r^
vv\
MEMOIR
MEMOIR OF THE LIEE
RT. REV. RICHARD CHANINING MOORE, D. D.
BISHOP OF THE PROTESTANT EPISCOPAL CHURCH
DIOCESE OF VIRGINIA.
BY J. P. K. HENSHAW, D. D. nj^cfj^,
RECTOR OF BT. PETEU's CHCIICH, BALTIMOIIE.
ACCOMPANIED BY A SELECTION FROM
THE SERMONS
• '. ; ; - , OF rriE
:.■'■ iATE UiSHOP.
PHILADELPHIA:
WILLIAM STAVE LY AND CO,
No. 12 Penr street.
1842. i^
Entered according to the Act of Coneress, in the year 1842, by
WILLIAM STAVELY AND CO.
In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the Kasiern District of
Pennsylvania.
PEEFACE.
The following Biography of the late Bishop Moore, un-
dertaken at the request of his family, has been written in the
hours which could be spared amidst the multiplied duties of a
large parochial cure. The labours of the biographer have been
lightened by the kindness of the Bishop's children, in copy-
ing from his letter-book the most interesting parts of his cor-
respondence ; and also in selecting and preparing for the press
such of his sermons as they desired to have published. What-
ever may be the faults and deficiencies of the Memoir, it
claims to furnish a faithful portraiture of the life and character
of a venerable Father in the Church, which her children may
contemplate with satisfaction and profit.
The writer has found it necessary to touch upon some deli-
cate points, affecting the policy and usagesof the Church, about
which there is an acknowledged diversity of sentiment. With-
out this, it would have been impracticable to present a faithful
account of Bishop Moore's life and opinions. He has aimed,
however, to perform this delicate part of his duty, less in the
spirit of a partisan, than in that of a sincere inquirer after truth.
He would not dogmatically enforce upon the reader an assent
to all the views entertained either by himself or the subject of
his memoir. For, however earnestly he may desire the exti no-
tion of party names and of party spirit, he is persuaded that
the readiest means of attaining it is to infuse the Catholic
spirit of the Church into all her ministers and members: — to
recognize the wide difference which really exists between doc-
tri7ies of faith, and mere matters of opinion: — and to require
nothing as essential to sound churchmanship, but a cordial
agreement in the former, whatever diversity may exist re-
specting the latter. The only proper test of orthodoxy is belief
of the truth, as taught in the Articles and creeds; and confor-
mity to the laws of the Church, embodied in her rubrics and
canons: and not an assent to the interpretation put upon them
by any particular class of Churchmen. Whenever the great
body of the ministry and laity shall be led, like the venerable
subject of the following iMcmoir, to act upon this principle,
which is the principle of the Church — we shall behold, through-
out the length and breadth of our communion, an answer to our
daily prayer that " all who profess and call themselves Chris-
tians, may hold the faith, in unity of spirit, and in the bond of
peace." The Lord hasten it in his time !
J. P. K. H.
Baltimore, August, 1842.
CONTENTS.
CHAPTER I.
1762 TO 1787. PAGE.
Introduction. The Bishop's Birth — Ancestry — Beneficial influence
of maternal instruction and example. Indications of piety in his
early childhood, and presentiments of future occupation in the
sacred ministry. His classical education. Visit to W-est Point
— anecdote of the Moore family during the Revolutionary War.
Brief trial of sea-life. Devotes himself to the study of medicine —
and enters into practice. His first marriage. His early religious
impressions in a great measure lost, and he conforms to the gaie-
ties of the world. His conversion. 9
CHAPTER II.
FnoM 1787 to 1809,
Immediate change of purpose as to his profession after conversion-
Reviews his classical studies. Enters upon preparation for Holy
Orders. Ordained Deacon, His Sermon on the Fiftieth Anni-
versary of his Ordination. His ministry at Rye, Intimacy with
John Jay. His removal to St. Andrew's Church, Staten Island,
Practises medicine and tenches a school to aid in the support of
his family. Letters to his children. Death of his wife, and
letters occasioned thereby. His second marriage. His first at-
tempt at extempore preaching, and subsequent success in it.
Anecdote illustrative of his fidelity in pastoral duty; — another,
showing his humanity. Remarkable revival of religion, Th«
character and success of his ministry on Staten Island, 30
CHAPTER III.
FnoM 1809 TO 1814.
The advantages and disadvantages of city and country charges
respectively. Dr. Moore's call to St. Stephen's Church, New
York. The state of the Church in that city. Ministry of Dr.
Hobart. The depressed condition of St. Stephen's when Dr.
Moore took charge of it. Its rapid increase. The active efibrts
VI CONTENTS,
PAGE
of George Warner, recorded by Bishop Moore in a letter to his
widow. Lecture-room services and prayer meetings. The
opinion of Bishop Moore respecting them. Their propriety dis-
cussed. Approval of Nelson, Bishops Claggett and Kemp, and
the present presiding Bishop. Letters on Prayer Meetings and
Associations. Revivals of Religion, and Clerical Associations.
Letters to Bishops Meade and Bowen on Anxious Seats and Re-
vivals. The course of Dr. Moore in reference to an unhappy
controversy in the Church of New York. A succinct review
of the effect of his ministry in St. Stephen's.-" 70
CHAPTER IV.
1814.
The early history of the Church in Virginia. Election of Dr.
Griffith as Bishop, in 1786. Bishop Madison, the first Bishop
of Virginia, consecrated in 1790. Deep depression of the Church,
and its causes. Apostolic character and labours of the Rev. De-
vereux Jarratt. Dr. Bracken's election in 1812. New era in the
Church under the auspices of a few young Clergymen. Erec-
tion of the Monumental Church in Richmond — and efforts made
to obtain Dr. Moore for its first Rector with a view to his elec-
tion as Bishop. Correspondence on the subject — including letters
from Judge Washington, Bishop Hobart, and others. Propriety
and delicacy of Dr. Moore's course in respect to it. His election
by the Convention, and circumstances connected with his con-
secration in 1814. His removal to Richmond. Previous condi-
tion of the Episcopal community there. His great popularity
and success. Fidelity in the pulpit and in pastoral visitation.
Presentation to him of a splendid copy of the New Testament by
his fellow citizens of all denominations. Summary view of his
character and labours as Rector of the Monumental Church. 107
CHAPTER V.
From 1814x0 1829.
The views and spirit with which Bishop Moore entered upon the
duties of his Episcopate. Notices of the early success of his la-
bours. An Episcoi)ate fund proposrj. Formation of Pr.iyer
Book and Tract Society. Rev. Benjamin Allen's labours. Mea-
sures taken to promote theological education in connexion with
William and Mary College. Founding of Theological School, and
the Education Society. Brief sketch of the history of both.
Fashionable amusements and lay discipline. View of Bible So-
cieties, and letters relating to them. His ardent love for the
Liturgy, and desire to have it strictly adhered to in bis Diocese.
CONTE>-TS. Vll
PACE.
Opposition to proposed changes in it. Letters on the Liturgy.
Baptismal Regeneration, &c. His views relating to the removals
of Clergymen from one parish to another. Episcopal services in
North Carolina. Death of Rev. Messrs. Norris and Wilmer.
Rumours of his wish to retire from the Diocese. His desire for
an Assistant Bishop. Dr. Meade elected, with an objectionable
restriction, which was afterwards removed. Consecrated in 1829. 159
CHAPTER VI.
From 1829 to 1841.
The expediency of having Assistant Bishops. Canonical restrictions
aa to their election, growing out of the case of Virginia. Bishop
Moore's letter expressing his gratification at the election of
Bishop Meade. A valuable relief to him. Performs Episcopal
duties ill Maryland. Conservative influences in the Church.
Assisted at the consecration of Bishop Stone and preached on the
occasion. His continued delight in Associations and Revivals.
Recommendation of weekly offerings. Inadequate support of the
clergy. Missionary efforts recommended. His zeal for the
Church, and readiness to defend it. Letters of condolence.
Prayer for an inquirer after truth. His ardent love for his chil-
dren. Specimens of his domestic correspondence. His opinion of
the " Tracts for the Times." Was ho a High or a Low Church-
man 1 He did all in a spirit of prayer. His love for the meet-
ings of the Virginiti Convention, and farewell addresses at their
close. His frequent excursions. Visit to Baltimore in the fall of
18.39, and again in 1840, to assist in the consecration of Bishop
Whiltingham. His visit to Westchester, Pa., in August, 1841.
Attendance at the General Convention. Strong testimony in re-
ference to Foreign .Missionary Bishops. Visitation to Lynchburg
— statement of his last illness and death. The monument erected
over bis remains. Sketch of his character. Conclusion. 227
S E R Ar O N I.
The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want. He maketh me to
lie down in green pastures ; he lendelh me beside the still waters;
he restorelh my soul; he leadeth me in the paths of righteousness,
for his name's sako. Yea, though I walk through the valley
and shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me,
thy rod and thy start", they comfort me." —23,/ Psalm, Ist,
2nd, 3d, and 4th verses. 331
VIU CONTEJJTS.
PAGE.
SERMON II.
"Jesus answering, saiJ, Were there not ten cleansed ? but where
are the nine 1 There are not found, that returned to give glory
to God, save this stranger." — St. Luke, xvii. 17, 18. 342
SERMON III.
" And Elijah came unto all the people, and said. How long halt ye
between two opinions 1 If the Lord be God, follow him; but if
Baal, then follow him."— 1 Kings, iviii. 21. 351
SERMON IV.
" Not willing that any should perish, but that all should come to re-
pentance." — 2 Peteu, iii. 9. 360
SERMON V.
" The hand of the Lord was upon me, and carried me out in the
Spirit of the Lord, and set me down in the midst of the valley,
which was full of bones, and caused me to pass by them round
about: and, behold, there were very many in the open valley ;
and, lo, they were very dry. And he said unto me, Son of man
can these bones live? And I answered, O Lord God, thou
knowest."— EzEKiEL, xxxvii. 1, 2, 3 370
SERMON VI.
" As he reasoned of righteousness, temperance, and a judgment to
come, Felix trembled, and answered, Go thy way for this time,
when I have a convenient season, I will call for thee."— Acts,
ixiv. 25. 380
SERMON VII.
" What wilt thou that I should do unto thee 1 The blind man
said unto him, Lord, that I might receive my sight. And Jesus
said unto him, Go thy way, thy faith hath made thee whole. And
immediately he received his sight, and followed Jesus in the way."
Maiik, X. 51, 52. 389
SERMON VIII.
' The angel of the Lord appeared unto him in a flame of fire out of
the midst of a bush : and he looked, and, behold the bush burn-
ed with fire and the bush was not consumed ; and Moses said,
CONTENTS. IX
PAGE.
I will now turn aside and see this grea t sight, why the bush is
not burnt.' — Exodus, iii. 2, 3. 199
SERMON IX.
'He hath sent me to heal the broken-hearted, to preach deUve-
rance to the captives, and recovering of sight to the blind, to set
at liberty them that are bruised." — St. Luke, iv. 18. 408
SERMON X.
• God be merciful to me a sinner." — Lcke, xviii. 13. 420
SERMON XI.
When thou passest through the waters I will be with thee ; and
when through the rivers they shall not overflow thee." — Isaiah,
xliii. 2. 430
SERMON XII.
How beautiful upon the mountains, are the feet of him that bring-
eth good tidings, that publisheth peace ; that bringeth good tidings
of guod ; that publisheth salvation ; that sailh unto Zion, thy God
reigneth !" — Isaiah, lii. 7. 441
SERMON XIII.
I have received of the Lord, that which also I delivered unto you,
that the Lord Jesus, the same ni^ht in which he was betrayed,
took bread : And when he had given thanks, he brake it, and said.
Take, eat, this is my body which is broken for you ; this do in
remembrance of me. After the same manner, also, he took the
cup, when he had supped, saying, This cup is the New Testa-
ment in my blood ; this do ye as oft as ye drink it in remembrance
of me. For as often as ye eat this bread and drink this cup, ye
do shew the Lord's death till he come." — 1 Cor. xi. 23 to 26. •••• 451
SERMON XIV.
As the hart pantelh after the water-brooks, so panteth my soul
after thee. O God ! My soul thirsteth for God, for the living God;
when shall I come and appear before God I" — Psalm, xlii. 1, 2. 463
SERMON XV.
Having a form of godliness, but denying the power thereof, from
such turn away." — 2 Tim. iii. 5. 471
X CONTENTS.
PAGE.
SERMON XVI.
" And he stretched forth his hand toward his disciples and said,
Behold my mother and my brethren." — Matthew, xii. 49. 481
^SERMON XVII.
" And God saw their works, that they turned from their evil way ;
and God repented of the evil that he had said be would do unto
them, and he did it not, " — Jonah, iii. 10. 492
Erratum. — On page twelve it is stated, on the authority of Mr. Nor-
wood's address, that John Moore was the first person interred in Trinity
Church-yard. It is probable that Mr. N. was misinformed as to this par-
ticular fact.
MEMOIR
CHAPTER I.
1762 TO 1787.
Introduction. The Bishop's Birth — Ancestry— Beneficial influence of
maternal instruction and example. Indications of piety in his early
childhood, and presentiments of future occupation in the sacred ministry.
His classical education. Visit to West Point — anecdote of the Moore
family during the Revolutionary War. Brief trial of sea-life. Devotes him-
self to the study of medicine — and enters into practice. His first marriage.
His early religious impressions in a great measure lost, and he conforms
to the gayeties of the world. His conversion.
To give a biographical sketch of an eminent servant of
God, vi'ho for more than half a century had occupied a dis-
tinguished station in the ranks of the Christian ministry,
and at least for a moiety of that period had been loved
and venerated as a Right Reverend Father in God, is a
task which one can hardly hope to execute so successfully
as not to disappoint the expectations of those to whom the
character and life of the subject of his memoir were fami-
liarly known. Those who have often felt the magic power
of action and the witchery of voice by which the living
teacher of the Gospel sways the understanding and leads
captive the affections of his hearers, and have been actual
observers of that life in which his doctrines were so sweetly
confirmed by the beautiful illustrations of a holy and vir-
tuous conversation, will find any written account tame and
unsatisfactory in comparison with the vivid impressions left
10 MEMOIR OF THE
on their minds by the knowledge of the original. To this
class of readers the memoir of a beloved and distinguished
individual would be like a pencil sketch of the Parthenon,
or any other beautiful temple to one who had spent his life
within view of its walls, — or an oral description of Niagara
to one who had for years listened to the roaring of the
cataract. Pictures of natural scenery and objects seldom
afford satisfaction to those who are familiar with the origi-
nals, and a man's own family most readily discover blem-
ishes in a likeness of himself. No power of art can im-
part to an image the beauty, or vividness, or interest of the
living subject : all that can be attempted is a true outline,
and a faithful representation ; which, while it may serve to
convey to strangers some true idea of one they had never
known, may, at the same time, serve to awaken pleasing
recollections in the minds of others.
The aged disciple, whose life is now to pass under our
review, was extensively known to the religious community
in the United Stales, and in the Church had long been es-
teemed a Patriarch of the family. In this biography we
shall attempt to give a faithful portraiture of the prominent
features in his character, and the most eventful incidents in
his history. If any who have known him long and inti-
mately, will complain that some points which they most
admired in him are not brought prominently into view, it
is to be hoped that there will be enough of fidelity in the
sketch to awaken in the minds of junior readers, and of pos-
terity (should any of them peruse these pages) an admira-
tion of the principles and practices of one they never had
the privilege of knowing ; so that the memory of a Chris-
tian Bishop, who largely possessed the love and confidence
of this generation, may be embalmed in the veneration of
the next.
LIFE OF BISHOP MOORE. 11
Richard Channing Moore was born in the city of New-
York, on the 21st of August, A. D. 1762. He was the
worthy scion of a good stock ; and so far as the history of
his family is known to us, extending back through a period
of more than two centuries, some respectable and honour-
able names are found enrolled in the list of his progenitors.
The first of these concerning whom we have any informa-
tion. Sir John Moore, had for his family seat Frawley, in
Berkshire, England. This gentleman was raised to the
order of knighthood by Charles I., king of England, on the
21st of May, 1627 : probably as a reward for some impor-
tant services rendered to the country and the crown. The
motto on his coat of arms was ; Nihil utile quod non
honestum. He was, doubtless, a monarchist in politics,
and a churchman in religion ; as he lost both his fortune
and life in those revolutionary excitements — produced more
by a blind and ignorant religious bigotry than by a love
of rational liberty — which deprived the unfortunate mo-
narch of his crown, and brought him to an ignominious end
upon the scaffold. It was a sacrifice professedly made to
establish the rights of subjects, and freedom of conscience
in religion. But the light which succeeding events have
thrown upon the character of the agents, and of the suf-
ferer, in that tragedy, has led many to contemplate it as a
case of martyrdom in the cause of God and his Church.
Of the descendants of Sir John Moore little is known
until we come to John Moore, the grandfather of the la-
mented Bishop, three of whose brothers, no less than him-
self, were distinguished for their stations and virtues. One
of them was the Rev. Dr. Thomas Moore, chaplain to Dr.
Atterbury, Bishop of Rochester, one of the most eminent
scholars and celebrated preachers of his age. The well-
known eloquent sermons of that admired prelate were
12 MEMOIR OF THE
edited and published under the direction of Dr. Moore.
He died rector of Little Britain in London, leaving a highly
respectable family, among whom was Thomas Moore.
D. D., rector of North Bray, in Kent. Another of the
brothers of John Moore, was Daniel Moore, a gen-
tleman of large estate, who was a member of Parlia-
ment for many years, and whose daughter married the
celebrated Lord Chancellor Erskine. Another of the bro-
thers was William Moore, of Moore Hall, Pennsylvania,
who left a highly respectable family. One of the daugh-
ters of this gentleman became the wife of the Rev. Dr.
William Smith, Provost of the College of Philadelphia ; a
preacher of great celebrity, and well known, in our eccle-
siastical annals, by his able and zealous co-operation with
Bishop White and others in organizing the government and
settling the doctrines, and discipline, and worship of the
Protestant Episcopal Church in this country. Dr. Smith
was chairman of the Committee for revising and altering
the Liturgy, in the first General Convention, in 1785, con-
tinued a most active and useful member of that body for
several successive sessions, and was the first President of
the House of Clerical and Lay Deputies, after the Bishops
constituted a separate house in 1789.
John Moore, a brother of William, and grandfather of
the Bishop, was a wealthy and respectable merchant of
New York. He was, at one time, an Alderman of the
city, for many years a member of the colonial Legislature,
and at the time of liis death colonel of one of the New
York regiments, and a member of the King's Council for
the Province. Dying in 1749 at the age of 03, he is said
to have been the first person buried in Trinity Church-yard,
where so many thousands have since found their last re-
pose. The family vault still remains, and the title to this
LIFE OF BISHOP MOORE. 13
resting place of the ashes of his fathers was held by
Bishop Moore at the time of his decease. John Moore
married Frances Lannbert ; they became the happy parents
of eighteen children, among whom were three pairs of twins.
The descendants of Mr. Moore became connected by mar-
riage with the Bayards, Hoffmans, Livingstons, Onderdonks,
Baileys, Tredwells, and Rogers's, who then, as now, were
ranked among the most respectable families in New York.
Stephen, the seventeenth child, was the proprietor of
West Point, the site of our national Military Academy.
After selling this property to the United States, he removed
to North Carolina. At the time of the invasion of the
Southern States by the British troops in 1779, he com-
manded a regiment of militia, and was, afterwards, taken
prisoner at the battle of Camden. Being in due time ex-
changed, he returned to his beautiful residence, Mount
Tirzah, in North Carolina, where he died, leaving in that
state a highly respectable family.
The seventh of the thirteen sons of John Moore, and the
one with whom our narrative is more directly concerned,
was Thomas Moore, the father of the subject of the pre-
sent memoir. He was born in 1722, and being sent to
England for an education, received his scholastic training
amidst the high advantages afiforded by the discipline and
instructions of Westminster School. On the completion of
his course of studies, he returned to his native country, at
about the age of twenty-one years, and engaged in com-
mercial pursuits as a merchant in the city of New lork.
The troubles of the revolution coming on, brought with
them a series of disasters and misfortunes, which led him
to retreat to West Point, where he lived with his family in
quiet retirement, (it being on what was called the neutral
ground,) during the early part of the revolutionary war.
14 MEMOIR OF THE
But at length, as we shall have occasion to state, more par-
ticularly, in the sequel, the footsteps of a plundering army
invaded his peaceful habitation — he and his helpless family
were driven out from their own tireside — homeless and
pennyless — 'the world before them, and Providence their
guide !' In this destitute condition he returned to the city,
where, having obtained an appointment in the Custom
House, he lived in comfort until the conclusion of the war.
After the restoration of peace, and the full establishment
of our independence, a change of government having de-
prived him of the office from which his support was derived,
he retired to spend the remainder of his days with his be-
loved daughter, the wife of General Huntington, in New
London, Connecticut. There, under the influence of pul-
monary consumption, his strength and health gradually
wasted, till, supported by the consolations of Christian faith,
and in the communion of the Church, he departed this life
on the 19th June, 1784. In the spring of 1785 his remains
were removed to New York, and deposited in the family
vault, in Trinity Church-yard, by his son, the late Bishop of
Virginia, then a resident of that city.
Elizabeth Channing, the wife of Thomas Moore, and
mother of the late bishop, was of highly respectable paren-
tage. Being left an orphan at the early age of two years,
she was carefully brought up in the family of her uncle,
John Pintard, Esq. She was highly accomplished ; having
received the most finished education, and being accustomed
to mingle freely in the best society to be found in her na-
tive city. In her all the polish and dignity of a lady of
" the old school" appeared in combination with a most
amiable disposition, remarkable soundness of judgment,
firmness of purpose, and strong good sense — all adorned
and sanctified by the graces of a fervent and exemplary
LIFE OF BISHOP MOORE. 15
piety. To the religious instructions and lovely Christian
example of his sainted mother, Bishop Moore often delighted
to revert with tears of gratitude in his eyes and a bosom
swelling with filial afTection and reverence. To her early
nurture and admonition of him in the ways of the Lord,
he ascribed, under God, all his happiness and usefulness in
this world, and his hopes of a blessed immortality in the
next. He had the pleasure of ministering to her support
and solace in her declining years, until she entered upon
her eternal rest, at his house, on Staten Island, the 7th of
December, 1805, in the 78th year of her age.
It has been truly said that so far as relates to intellec-
tual and moral character, " the boy is father of the man."
We regret that but few written memorials are to be found
which give any information respecting the childhood of the
subject of this memoir, and there are no surviving com-
panions of his early years whose memory of facts will
enable us to supply the deficiency. The few incidents we
have been able to gather from other brief sketches of his
life, from the Bishop's letters, and from the statements of
his only surviving sister, will, however, serve to show that
in the promise of childhood there was the earnest and seed
of the virtues and excellencies which were fully developed
in maturcr years.
While he was yet an infant in the nursery, his pious
mother, who, like Hannah, had devoted her son to the
Lord, faithful to the engagements entered into on his be-
half when he was received info the Church by Holy Bap-
tism, considered him as one of the lambs of Christ's flock ;
and laboured by every means to impregnate his budding
character with the principles of religion and lead hin^ to
an early acquaintance with Ilim who said, *' Suffer the
little children to come unto me, and forbid them not; for
16 MEMOIR OF THE
of such is the kingdom of heaven." The humble efforts
of this Christian mother, Hke those of Lois and Eunice,
were not in vain. The good seed sown in her instructions
was matured by her prayers and tears; and of Bishop
Moore, as of Timothy, it might be said that from a child
he knew those Holy Scriptures which are able to make
men wise unto salvation through faith in Christ Jesus.
Often did he, in advanced age, advert with sentiments of
devout gratitude to the benefits derived from the lessons of
maternal love ; and in the last summer of his life he was
heard to say, with deep and grateful emotion, " I was a
pious child." Under the hallowed influence of his mother's
teaching, example and prayers, we may believe that God
was not only laying the foundation of the superstructure
of personal holiness and virtue in his private character, but
was also, (perhaps unconsciously to the subject of it,) train-
ing his faculties and affections for that work of the Gospel
ministry to which the greater part of his future life was
so successfully devoted. While he was yet an infant prat-
tler, unable to speak intelligibly, he was in the habit of
gathering his little sisters and brothers around him, and
with his apron put on inversely as a substitute for a sur-
plice, " keeping church," as he called it, and imitating, as
well as he could, the different parts of the services of the
sanctuary. At a very early age he evinced not only a de-
cided taste for elocution, but also a more than ordinary
talent for public speaking. This talent and taste were often
exhibited for the amusement of his mother's visiters in his
happy recitations of hymns and other pieces previously
committed to memory for the purpose. Who can tell but
that the Holy Spirit might have imparted to his infant
mind early intimations of a future call to the sacred office?
Who shall say that this interesting boy when "keeping
LIFE OF BISHOP MOORE. 17
church" with his infant congregation, or delivering pious
sentiments in the presence of his seniors, may not have had
impressed upon his infant mind an idea of his future occu-
pation, and possessed, in embryo, the same emotions which
filled his bosom when, in after life, he led the devotions of
the faithful, and listening thousands hung with rapture on
his lips? The writer is inclined neither to superstition nor
fanaticism, but yet speaks from experience in expressing
the opinion that sometimes in the days of childhood, and
that, perhaps, a giddy and thoughtless one, there are vivid
anticipations of future occupation in the sacred office, and
strong impressions leading to an involuntary training for it,
in the absence of all encouragements to it from without,
which can only be accounted for by ascribing them to a
mysterious influence of the Holy Spirit upon the mind in-
dicative of God's purposes in reference to the future life of
the individual.
In the case of young Moore, there was doubtless on the
part of his mother a wish to strengthen every serious im-
pression, and encourage every holy desire that might be
produced in his mind. Her Christian associations and
habits were also adapted to produce the happiest influence
upon the forming character of her son. She was one of a
number of pious ladies who were in the practice of meet-
ing weekly, at each other's houses in rotation, for the pur-
poses of social worship and religious edification. Those
meetings were often attended by some one of the clergy ;
most frequently by Rev. Dr. Ogilvie, one of the min-
isters of Trinity Church, who is represented to have been
a man of exemplary piety and zeal, fervently devoted
to the spiritual improvement of the people committed to
his charge. This pious band of Christian sisters, in imita-
tion of the example of the devout centurion whose "prayers
18 MEMOIR OF THE
and alms went up together as a memorial before God," were
accustomed, as a fitting close of their religious services, to
make a contribution for some charitable object. It is pro-
bable that Richard Channing was often permitted to be
present in this devout circle, especially when it was assem-
bled under his paternal roof: nor is it unreasonable to be-
lieve that what he then witnessed of the happy influence
of those social religious services, upon his mother and her
fellow-worthippers, produced in his youthful mind such a
strong conviction of their usefulness as led him to be their
decided friend and advocate during the whole course of his
protracted ministry. We know not precisely the nature
of the services performed at those social meetings ; but pre-
sume they very much resembled the Bible Class and Lec-
ture-room services of the present day. And where is the
clergyman to be found who is in the habit of meeting por-
tions of his people for such social exercises, who does not
prize them as among the most valuable means which he
can employ for advancing the interests of intelligent piety
and fervent devotion in the Church of God ?
The faithful Pastor will imitate the example of the
" Good Shepherd," who said "suller the little children to
come unto me, and forbid them not ;" and his official
fidelity may be proved by the same test to which Peter's
profession of love was subjected : " Simon, son of Jonas,
lovest thou me? Feed my lamhs? Dr. Ogilvie mani-
fested the true spirit of the Christian ministry in fervent
love for the youth and children pertaining to his charge,
and in his assiduous cflorts to promote their spiritual wel-
fare and lead them early into the path of life. The sub-
ject of this memoir was not only a constant attendant upon
the catechetical instructions of his Pastor, but, what was
remarkable in one so young, was a frequent visiter at his
LIFE OF BISHOP MOORE. 19
study, and found satisfaction and delight in his society.
Would that we had some record of those interesting inter-
views between that faithful minister of Jesus and his infant
parishioner ! It would probably furnish us with some val-
uable lessons as to the best mode of training the tender
mind to wisdom and virtue. It might serve to show that
the experienced teacher discovered in his pupil clear indi-
cations of divine influence and teaching, while as yet the
child himself was ignorant thereof; as Eli perceived that
the Lord had called Samuel, though the infant prophet
knew it not himself. There are doubtless many instances
to prove that the work of the Holy Spirit upon the heart
and character of an individual becomes manifest to others
before it is perceptible to the subject of it: as the face of
Moses shone, so that the children of Israel were dazzled
by its lustre, while Moses was himself unconscious that any
change had passed upon his countenance. Bishop Moore
would sometimes, in advanced life, refer to his familiar and
affectionate intercourse with the spiritual guide of his child-
hood, with grateful acknowledgments of the benefit thence
derived, and the pleasing recollection that he was, even at
that early period, a recipient of the influence of Divine
grace : which was evidenced by those fruits of the Spirit —
a love of prayer and the other duties of religion.
His literary and classical education was acquired under
the careful instruction of Mr. Alexander Leslie, Professor
of Languages in King's (now Columbia) College, New
York. We have no means of ascertaining the extent or
variety of his studies in the arts and sciences : but presume
that his education was as liberal as was then common to
young gentlemen destined to professional life, and that his
acquisitions were rapid; he having finished his preparatory
course at the age of sixteen years.
XU MEMOIR OF THE
About the commencement of the revolutionary war, his
fat her, having abandoned commercial pursuits in the city
of New York, retired with his family to the old country-
seat at West Point. In that place of retirement from the
dangers and excitements incident to a state of war, the
subject of our memoir passed about a year and a half of
his boyish days in the happy society of his brothers and
sisters, often engaged in those rural occupations and sports
so grateful to the taste of childhood and youth, and sur-
rounded by the most sublime and lovely scenery which our
country contains. The following letters to two of his chil-
dren will show the vivid impression p( by-gone joys upon
his mind on visiting this sequestered spot after the lapse of
more than half a century.
LETTERS DESCRIBING A VISIT TO WEST POINT.
New York, August 10th, 1833.
My Dear Crissy ; — Although but a few days have elapsed
since I last wrote, still as I have since that period made an
excursion to the Highlands, and have visited the site of
my grandfather's country seat at West Point, at which I
passed eighteen months of my boyhood, I hasten to com-
municate the circumstance to you ; at the same time to in-
form you of a continuance of my health.
Last Thursday I embarked in the steamboat, with
Fanny and Mary Ann, in company with my nephew
Thomas Moore, and reached West Point before 1 o'clock ;
but being fatigued, 1 postponed my visit to the retreat of my
father in 1775, until yesterday morning : when, attended by
my daughters, Dr. Lyell and wife, Thomas Moore and
several strangers, I walked to Moore's folly, as it was once
called, and found the house totally gone 5 but perfectly re-
LIFE OF BISHOP aiOORE. 21
collected the spot on which it once stood, and to my pleas-
ing surprise, found one old English cherry tree remaining,
the relic of former times. One of the gentlemen ascended
the tree and took from it part of an old branch, which I
have in my pocket, and to which I intend to affix a label
and hang it up in my study. It was surprising to perceive
the pleasure discoverable in the countenances of several
gentlemen, who went with me ; and who had been informed,
that I had resided on that spot fifty-seven years gone by;
among whom was Professor Rodgers of William and Mary
College.
The walk was fatiguing, but I went and found the same
road, over which I had trodden many and many a time,
with a heart as gay as a lark, and a step as brisk as a deer.
The associations of early life burst upon me, with great
force, but when I recollected that my beloved parents, and
every soul but one of all the family, beside myself, were in
eternity, the pleasure I should otherwise have enjoyed was
sensibly checked. Betsey Livingston was born there — and
she and your father are the only remaining relics of that
day either in kitchen or parlour. The inclination I had
to tread on that ground, consecrated by filial- recollections,
the seat of so much juvenile happiness, and in which 1
partook so largely of a mother's care and love, forced me
to inspect its retired walks : and having complied with the
pleadings of my heart, I have bidden it adieu ; and shall
soon unite in a better retreat, with those, who once occu-
pied that family ground ; and whose spirits I trust are now
reposing in perfect quiet in the bosom of the God they
loved.
Perhaps, my child, you may not be able to enter fully into
your father's feelings on such a subject : unless you recur in
recollection to that spot, in which you first drew the breath
22 MEMOIR OF THE
of life ; and on which your dear departed mother bade an
adieu to you, to me, and to the world, and ascended on
angels' wings, to the arms of her divine Redeemer. May
God, who is rich in mercy, prepare us all to meet our rela-
tives in peace, beyond this vale of tears.
When at West Point, I was visited by young Harvie J.
Ellis and James Carter; the latter of whom I saw on guard
in the encampment, with a musket on his shoulder. They
were all well and in good spirits and delighted to see me.
Should you see their friends, they no doubt will be gratified
to hear of them.
Remember me in much love to all who inquire after me,
and when you write, let me know how matters stand in
Church and at home. With love to Sally, Eliza and house-
hold,
Believe me your affectionate father,
Richard Chaining Moore.
P. S. David has been with me two hours, and has re-
turned home this moment. Mr. and Mrs. Pendleton visited
me this morning — they are well, I have promised to visit
them at the Fort. Let Mr. Nelson know I have seen
them. All here send their love.
New York, August 21st, 1833.
My Dear Daughter, — My former letters have been direct-
ed to your sister Crissy, under the impression, that you as
well as she, would peruse them, and with the confidence
that it was a matter of no particular importance to whom
addressed ; but lest you should indulge the least suspicion
that you were overlooked, I now direct this to you ; and
must request my dear Crissy to consider it a piece of joint
property. My last letter embraced the history of my visit
to West Point, and involved in it an account of the tender
LIFE OF BISHOP MOORE. 23
recollections to which that visit gave rise. I there passed,
I think, eighteen months, at a period of life when no heavy
cares press on the mind, and we feel as cheerful as the face
of nature appears, and as happy as the feathered songsters
of the woods. Since that era I have experienced much
trouble and anxiety : my parents have passed into eternity,
and other severe trials have befallen me : comparing the
ease I then enjoyed, and of which every object informed
me, with the checkered scenes of subsequent life, it raised
emotions in my bosom which I want language to express ;
and in the edition I gave Crissy of the adventure, and in
the perusal of which I shed many tears, my feelings were
such as I cannot well describe. Should you live to be as
old as your father, who this day commences his seventy-
second year, you will be better qualified to judge of such
things, than you can now possibly be ; and you will then
recollect that what you then feel, has been experienced by
those who lived before you. To-day I dine with Dr.
Milnor, to-morrow with INlr. Ridgway, our former Consul
in the Island of St. Croix, and on Friday with Dr. Lyell.
I expect to preach on Sunday morning at St. Stephen's;
and on Monday to lay the corner-stone of a new church in
the city, and to deliver an address on the occasion. Your
brothers David and Channing, the latter of whom has gone
to visit his friend Hallam at New-London, are to be with
me ; and we expect to go to Staten Island on Tuesday.
On Friday it is my present purpose to start for Philadel-
phia, where I shall remain a few days with my dear Ger-
trude, and then bend my course to Richmond. Should
anything occur to arrest me in my progress to the South,
I shall apprize you of it ; so that you may not be disap-
pointed on the subject of my return. Mr. Cook has re-
quested me to sit for my portrait : which I have done three
24 JIEMOIR OF THE
times; and expect to give him another sitting to-morrow,
when I presume he will finish his work. It is thought a
likeness, but I shall be better qualified to decide on the
subject myself after to-morrow. I sincerely sympathize
with my dear friend Martha Chamberlayne ; but, as I am
sensible her little girl is much better provided for, than she
could have been in this world, I hope she will bend with
resignation to the dispensation of Providence, and remember
that she will again see her, with her harp tuned to praise,
and with the ability to join in anthems of joy with the
triumphant host of heaven. I intend to address her on the
subject, if not prevented by company, as soon as I finish
this letter. Last Sunday I passed in Amboy, where I
preached twice, and in the evening went to the Miss
Parkers, where, with all the members of that family, at
least twenty in number, I spent a devotional evening, and
closed with a prayer for the blessing of heaven upon them
all. It was a devotional, melting evening. I sincerely hope
that you are both in good health, and with my prayers for
your health and happiness, and for the happiness of all my
friends, especially my child Betsey Heath and husband and
family.
Believe me, my dear daughter, your friend and father,
Richard Channing Moore.
In contrast with the peaceful and joyous recollections re-
corded in the foregoing letters, we will here relate an in-
cident previously adverted to, well adapted to illustrate the
barbarities inseparable from war even when under the con-
duct of civilized and Christian nations.
The father of the peaceful family at West Point had
left home to visit a friend at a distance; and during his ab-
sence, a British frigate ascended the Hudson river with a
LIFE OF BISHOP MOOEE. 25
view of capturing Fort Montgomery. General Clinton, of
the British arnny, with the forces under his command, had
previously visited the residence of the Moores, committing
such acts as are common with a foraging party when inva-
ding the domains of an enemy. The soldiers, however,
were content with committing depredations out of doors.
They robbed the garden, took possession of the poultry, and
killed a cow which was feeding in the orchard ; but offered
no personal violence to the members of the family, nor even
attempted to invade the sanctuary of the domicil. But
when the seamen landed from the frigate, they immediately
entered the house, and, with ruthless violence, tore up the
carpets, stripped the beds, stole the tea-spoons from the
table where the family were seated at their evening meal,
and without restraint carried on the work of indiscriminate
pillage. One of the band of depredators, more savage than
the rest, with fiendish cruelty and dastardly cowardice, pre-
sented a fixed bayonet at Mrs. Moore's breast, threatening
the life of an unprotected mother surrounded by an inter-
esting group of weeping and helpless children ! The con-
sternation of the family may easily be imagined. They
fled to Mr. Charles Moore's for protection, where they re-
mained till they could return with safety to their own
abode. Even if we admit it to be necessary in the prose-
cution of war sometimes to invade the domicil and plun-
der the property of private and peaceful individuals, yet
surely, the bright escutcheon of the soldier should never be
tarnished with acts of cruelty and oppression to helpless
women and children. In this case, the outrage was per-
petrated not upon an enemy, but a friend : (for the Moores
were favourable to the royal cause,) it was the brutal act
of an infuriated, unrestrained body of men, who deemed it
their business and privilege to commit all sorts of violence
b2
2d memoir of the
upon those whom they supposed hostile to the crown in
whose service they were enlisted. General Clinton made
an ample apology for the assault, severely reproved it, and
caused the valuable plunder to be promptly restored to the
injured family.
At the time of the above outrage upon his paternal
home, the subject of this memoir was in the city of New
York; and as yet, perhaps, undetermined as to his future
avocation in life. Under the temporary influence of a wild
and romantic desire to visit other countries and see the
world, (so common in youths at that age,) he made trial of
a sea-faring life ; which, however, he very soon relinquished,
and devoted himself to the study of medicine.
His medical education was prosecuted under the direc-
tion of Dr. Richard Bayley, one of the most distinguished
physicians of his day. The advantages he enjoyed under
the tuition of this gentleman were probably equal to any
which could be commanded at that early period, — so long
before medical schools or colleges were instituted, with their
associated professorships, for the education of young aspi-
rants in the Esculapian art. Dr. Bayley had the reputa-
tion of being the most eminent surgeon in New York, and
young Moore is said to have been quite a proficient in this
branch of his profession. After the completion of his stu-
dies, he commenced his career as a practitioner of medi-
cine in the city. But finding, probably, as most young be-
ginners do, that it was difficult to maintain a rivalry with
older physicians of established reputation, and more diffi-
cult to obtain a support amidst the wide competition for
practice in a large city, he soon removed to the eastern
part of Long Island, to seek his fortune there. But, after
a brief residence at his new location, without a result an-
swerable to his expectations, he returned to the city, and
LIFE OF BISHOP MOORE. 27
resumed his practice there, favoured with brighter pros-
pects, and with encouraging success. At the age of twenty-
two he was married to Miss Christian Jones, of New York,*
who continued to be a faithful and affectionate wife to him
for twelve years. She was his chief domestic comfort-
soothing him amidst the toils, and rejoicing with him in the
pleasures and rewards of his earlier ministry on Staten
Island. She departed this life in April, 179G,
It is not unfrequently the case that the fair promise of
early piety is not realized and confirmed by the develop-
ment of character in maturer years. The buds and bios-
soms of grace put forth in childhood are often nipped and
withered before manhood comes. Many a pastor has been
forced to mourn over some who in the morning of life en-
tered upon the Christian race, and " ran well for a season,"
but were afterwards " hindered," and perhaps utterly turn-
ed out of their course by the adverse influence of a corrupt
and tempting world. Many a parental heart has been
stung to agony, and made to weep in bitterness, by the
worldliness if not open viciousness, of some wayward child,
upon whose opening virtues it had gazed with pleasure,
and over whose future prospects fancy had spread its fair-
♦ Dr. Moore first saw this lady in Trinity Church, and being smitten with
her beauty, followed her after the congregation was dismissed, determined
to form an acquaintance with her. Falling in with an old friend, he urged
him to introduce him to the lady. This, however, was declined, on the
ground that the gentleman himself had not the pleasure of her acquaint-
ance. Still bent upon the accomplishment of his purpose, when the lady
entered her father's residence, young Moore, turning to his friend, said
"Do you know who lives in that house ]" The reply was, " Mr. Jones,
an acquaintance of mine." " Then I insist upon it that you shall go in
and give me an introduction to the family, or I shall be under the disagree-
able necessity of introducing myself." He was accordingly introduced.
Personal acquaintance deepened his first impressions : and Miss J. soon
yielded her heart and hand tj so ardent and persevering a suitor.
28 MEMOIR OF THE
est visions. In some melancholy instances there is an utter
blighting of all the good seed of life so as to forbid the
hope that it will ever bring forth fruit unto salvation. In
other instances the seed is only " choked" for a season by
the " tares" of worldly wealth, honours, or pleasures ; but
when these are plucked up, it will spring forth vigorously,
and yield fruit in perfection, " first the blade, then the ear;
after that the full corn in the ear."
The case of young Moore resembled the latter rather
than the former of these instances. A large city, at any
time, presents numerous and powerful temptations to evil,
which are with difficulty resisted, even by the firmest vir-
tue, when found in association with the ardent imaginations
and strong passions of youth. But the state of society and
the scenes and associations connected with the residence of
a military force in a large city — which, in time of war, is
not only a focus of excitement, but of dissipation and un-
godliness also — are favourable to any thing rather than the
cultivation of piety in the youthful mind. It need not sur-
prise us, therefore, that in the midst of such counteracting
influences, he of whom we write, found his spiritual sensi-
bilities blunted, — lost, in a great degree, his devotional feel-
ings, and permitted himself to be drawn into the vortex of
gay and fashionable life.
While a student and practitioner of medicine, there is rea-
son to fear, he neglected his baptismal obligations by con-
forming to the pomps and vanities of the world ; though
we believe he was not chargeable with open viciousness of
life, and that the religious impressions he received in child-
hood were never entirely effaced. *
* Since the above was written a fact has been communicated by an aged
friend of the Bishop, who knew him well in early life, and confirmed by
a letter from Rev. David Moore, D. D., (the Bishop's eldest son,) who had
LIFE OP BISHOP MOOKE. 29
« He who is rich in mercy, for his great love wherewith
he loved us, when we were dead in sins," often preserves us
when we deserve to perish. When we become unmindful
of his covenant, grieve his Spirit, and alienate ourselves
from his ways, he might justly leave us to follow our own
courses, and to perish in our own devices. But such is not
the manner of God with men. He hath no pleasure in the
death of the sinner, but is constantly inviting him to turn
and live. Even when Israel had " caused him to serve with
their sins, and wearied him with their iniquities," he ex-
claimed, " I, even I am he that blotteth out thy transgres-
sions for mine own sake ; and will not remember thy sins."
He waits for the return of his prodigal child ; yearns over
heard his father speak of the event with humiliation and sorrow, that com-
pels me to qualify the statement in the text. However he might have been
preserved from other vices, the subject of this memoir had fallen into the
low and inexcusable habit of profane swearing, of which he was cured
by the remonstrances and prayers of his pious wife. Not long after his
marriage he returned home, about tea-time, in a state of excitement on ac-
count of some outrage he had received. The servant, who was about set-
ting the table, in bringing in the waiter, either from carelessness or by ac-
cident, let it fall, and the contents were dashed to pieces. He gave expres-
sion to his feelings in such language as shocked the pious sensibilities of
Mrs. Moore to such a degree that she immediately left the room and retired
to her chamber. When the tempest of his wrath had in some measure
subsided, he followed her, and was distressed to find her dissolved in tears.
On his inquiring why she was thus disquieted and wept 1 her reply was,
that the language which she had heard from his lips was such as to dis-
turb her peace, and excite her warmest, sympathies for his soul. As God had
declared, in the plainest terms, that He would not hold him guiltless who
taketh his name in vain — she trembled for the consequences, and at the
time he entered her chamber, was engaged in supplicating that grace which
would convince him of his error, and lead him, as a penitent sinner, to
choose that God and Saviour who was the solace of her heart, and her por.
tion forever. Dr. Moore was exceedingly affected by this earnest expostu-
lation from the lips of her whom he loved so sincerely ; he promised an
immediate abandonment of the odious habit : and there is reason to be-
lieve that this prepared the way for that gracious change of heart and life
which he soon afterwards experienced.
MEMOIR OF THE
him with all the tenderness of divine compassion ; and is
ever ready to magnify the riches of grace in bringing him
to repentance and salvation. About the year 1785 the
spiritual slumber into which Dr. Moore had fallen was dis-
turbed ; his mind was deeply exercised upon the subject of
religion ; and the pious feelings, desires, resolutions and af-
fections of his earlier life were reproduced in more than
their original strength and energy.
The following striking incident in relation to this period
of his religious history, is the most important fact which we
have been able to gather from the enfeebled recollections
of his only surviving sister. Being one day in a barber's
shop, for the purpose of having his hair dressed according
to the fashion of the time, he carelessly opened a Bible
which was lying upon a table, and the first passage upon "
which his eyes rested was the searching interrogatory which
the Lord Jesus addressed to that prince of persecutors who
became afterwards the prince of Apostles : " Saul, Saul,
WHY PERSECUTEST THOU ME?" The cifcumstance was appa-
rently a trifling and accidental one. But it startled him.
It appeared to him, doubtless, as a message from God,
though it had come at an unexpected time, and under un-
wonted circumstances. An impression was, we may well
believe, thus produced upon his mind which he could not
readily shake off. An arrow of conviction had pierced his
heart which could be extracted only by the hand of par-
doning mercy. Let him go where he would : and whether
engaged in the cares of professional business, or whirling in
the giddy circles of worldly pleasure, the awful appeal
of his neglected and injured Master would be still ringing
in his ears : " Why persecutest thou me .?" It would inter-
rupt his enjoyments by day and disturb his slumbers by
night; so that he could find neither rest nor peace, till,
LIFE OF BISHOP MOOKE. 31
bowing in the spirit of penitence and submission at the foot
of the cross, he inquired, like the subdued and converted
Apostle, " Lord, what wilt thou have me to do J?"
We have no further facts or materials which would
enable us to gratify the curiosity of the reader by a more
particular narrative of this work of grace in the heart of
Dr. Moore. He has left no written record of his experience
at this interesting epoch of his life, nor have we the means
of ascertaining the precise time when he first entered into
full communion with the body of Christ's faithful people
by a reception of the sacrament of the Lord's Supper.
But that a change did take place in his religious feelings
and character — a change in the views, desires and affections
of his mind — and in the purposes and habits of his life — a
change so great and radical as to be properly styled a con-
version, or new creation, the whole course of his future
history leaves no room for the shadow of a doubt. The
fruits of the Spirit, so clearly manifested in his temper and
conversation, afforded the best evidence of a renovated
heart. And the frequency and earnestness with which he
enforced the indispensable necessity of conversion, gave in-
dications, sure and convincing, that the doctrine of Scrip-
ture on this point had been confirmed to him by his own
personal experience.
From the period above named we must look upon the
subject of this sketch as standing before us in a new atti-
tude, bearing a new character, and sustaining a nearer
and more sacred relation to the Church of God. He has
entered upon a new life : — a life of faith in the Son of God.
He is animated by new principles ; even those of the " man
in Christ," the adopted child of God. He is devoted to
new objects : even the salvation of men, and the glory of
his Lord and Saviour. Henceforth, we are to behold him
;y4 MEMOIR OF THE LIFE OF BISHOP MOORE.
as one of the Lord's redeemed, — living, not unto himself,
but unto him who died for him and rose again. From this
period we contemplate him as one who feels that he is not
his own, but has been bought with a price ; and therefore
strives to glorify God in his body and spirit which are his.
And, if we are not mistaken in the estimate formed of his
character from an intimate acquaintance with it for many
years, seldom has it fallen to the lot of poor frail humanity
to afford a lovelier display of gentleness and meekness, of ten-
derness and affection, of devotion and charity, of simplicity
of purpose and energy of action, of fervent zeal and con-
scientious fidelity in the discharge of professional service
and the duties of the social relations, than was exhibited,
through the sanctifying influence of divine grace, in the
long life by which our departed father was permitted to
glorify God.
CHAPTER II.
From 1787 to 1809.
Immediate change of purpose as to his profession after conversion.- Re-
views his classical studies. Enters upon preparation for Holy Orders.
Ordained Deacon. His Sermon on the Fiftieth Anniversary of his Ordi-
nation. His ministry at Rye. Intimacy veith John Jay. His removal to
St. Andrew's Church, Staten Island. Practises medicine and teaches a
school to aid in the support of his family. Letters to his children. Death
of his wife, and letters occasioned thereby. His second marriage. His
first attempt at extempore preaching, and sutisoquent success in it. Anec-
dote illustrative of his fidelity in pastoral iluty; — another, showing his
humanity. Remarkable revival of religion. The character and success
of his ministry on Staten Island.
After the memorable change in his religious character
and views, referred to in the concluding part of the preced-
ing chapter, Dr. Moore not only withdrew from all the vain
pleasures and corrupting amusements of the world, but felt
less interest in its lawful occupations, and soon resolved to
relinquish the secular profession in which he was then suc-
cessfully engaged. To employ the resources of skill, science,
and a cultivated intellect, under the guidance of a tender
and sensitive heart, in soothing the pains and healing the
maladies to which the human body is liable, may properly
be esteemed a highly benevolent occupation, involving the
sacrifice of much personal comfort, and the exercise of much
self-denial for the benefit of others. There is nothing in it,
so far as we know, incompatible with that devotion to God
required by the spirit of the sacred office. The minister of
the Gospel, whether the field of his labour be in a Chris-
tian or Heathen land, may, (if it may be done without in-
c
34 MEMOIR OF THE
fringing upon the duties of his loftier vocation,) as the
subject of this memoir did for a season, employ his know-
ledge of medicine in the healing of the body, in subordina-
tion to his higher labours for the salvation of the soul. In
a Christian country, except under very peculiar circum-
stances, the combination of the two offices would be inex-
pedient and improper ; but the opinion entertained by many
that it would enhance the usefulness of missionaries in un-
enlightened heathen nations, is entitled to consideration.
St. Luke was probably none the less distinguished for love
to the Master, and fidelity in his service — and none the \es9
qualified for usefulness as an Evangelist because he bore
the appellation of " the beloved physician."
Far be it from us, however, to place the high office of
an ambassador of Christ upon a level with any secular pro-
fession, however useful and benevolent it may be, or to
countenance the opinion that a minister of God may engage
in the duties of any other calling as a means of support, or
to increase his reputation, or from any other motive than
that of rendering it subservient to his holy calling, by open-
ing a readier way of access for the Gospel and giving
increased efficiency to his labours for the salvation of souls.
We believe that a call to the ministry involves a separa-
tion of the individual so called from all secular pursuits and
occupations; the relinquishment of all strong regard to
pecuniary emolument and worldly distinction ; and the con-
secration of the whole man to the work of the Gospel and
the glory of God. Such, we are happy to say, was the
view entertained by the subject of this memoir. Soon
after his conversion, he resolved to devote himself fully to
the service of God and his Church. His heart, renewed by
divine grace, and animated by the love of Christ and of
souls, could no longer be content with the occupations of a
LIFK OF BISHOP 3I00RE. 35
secular employment, however honourable ; could no longer
be restrained within the limits of a worldly profession, how-
ever benevolent; but yearned with all the tenderness of a
new-born compassion over the wide-spread miseries of our
fallen race, and panted v/ith an unconquerable desire to
proclaim to his fellow men that precious Gospel which was
the source of his own hope and consolation.
His decision was speedily formed; and there is no ground
for questioning the purity of the motives which led to it.
On the one hand the avenue to wealth and fame was opened
before him. He was respectably established in an honour-
able profession ; his already large practice was constantly
increasing; his patrons w^ere numerous and liberal ; and
there was every prospect that perseverance in his secular
pursuit would be crowned with affluence and professional
reputation — prizes which have strong attractions for the
youthful heart.
On the other hand, the clerical office had no induce-
ments to offer but such as would be repulsive and distaste-
ful to a worldly or ambitious mind. The Church, as the
established religion of an oppressive government, shared in
the odium attached to the yoke which had just been thrown
off. She was made answerable, in some degree, for the
political heresies which were repudiated at the revolution.
The fact that Washington, and Jay, and Hamilton, and
other leaders in the contest for independence, were mem-
bers of her communion, could not disabuse the minds of the
public, and free them from the false impression that her
influence was favourable to monarchy, and adverse to free-
dom. They looked not to her spiritual character, as a
" kingdom not of this world," but to her accidental cha-
racter, as a creature of the state, having a lordly hierarchy
allied to sovereignty, and incompatible with the simplicity
36 MEMOIR OF THE
and equality of a free republic. They viewed not the
Church of Christ, as it really is, a divinely-instituted and
divinely-governed society, which, though planted in all na-
tions, is subject to none; which gives authority and sanc-
tion to law, and at the same time affords security and pro-
tection to individuals in life, and liberty, and fortune ; which
imparts vigour to the arm of righteous government, and at
the same time maintains and vindicates the rights of the
governed ; which bears equal testimony against the usur-
pations of tyranny, and the disorders of licentiousness ;
which, while it interferes not with the civil regulations of
earthly powers, aims to spread over all the hallowed re-
straints of the divine law, and bring them under subjec-
tion to righteousness and virtue.
Even to this day, notwithstanding the striking analogy
which exists between our ecclesiastical organization and
that of the political government of our country, and the
full demonstration that has been afforded, in the more than
half century which has now elapsed, that the Church
operates harmoniously with the state, though perfectly in-
dependent of it; and also exerts a conservative influence
upon our republican institutions; yet even now, men are
to be found whose interest or policy it is to denounce the
Church as hostile to freedom, and monarchical in its tenden-
cies. But soon after the revolution this false view was
much more common than at the present time. The ma-
jority of the Episcopal clergy had deserted their flocks from
attachment to the cause of the crown ; and the few scat-
tered parishes, greatly enfeebled and impoverished by the
vicissitudes of war, were reduced to a state of deep depres-
sion, bordering upon extinction. Before the revolution,
the support of the clergy had been chiefly derived from the
mother country ; but now their only dependence was the
LIFE OF BISHOP MOORE. 3
voluntary contributions of their flocks, few in number, ex-
hausted in finances, dispirited by opposition. Even tiie
incumbents of the city churches could expect nothing more
than food and raiment ; while those who undertook to re-
suscitate the country parishes, had no prospect before them
but self-denial and poverty.
It was under these discouraging circumstances that Dr.
Moore resolved to devote himself to the ministry. Had he
consulted his own love of ease and honour, he might have
shrunk back appalled from the prospect before him. Had
he taken the advice of his worldly friends, they might have
protested against his giving himself to the service of deserted
and impoverished altars. But he " conferred not with flesh
and blood" in deciding a point of duty between himself
and his Maker. He '< trusted that he was inwardly moved
by the Holy Ghost to take upon him the office and work
of the ministry." Under the solemn conviction of this truth
he would exclaim, " Wo is unto me if I preach not the
Gospel !" Constrained by the love of Christ — feeling that
he was not his own, but bought with a price, and must
therefore glorify God in his body and spirit, which were
his — poverty, persecution, shame would have no terrors
for his mind: but he would say, "None of these things
move me : neither count I my life dear unto myself, that I
may finish my course with joy, and the ministry I have re-
ceived of the Lord Jesus, to testify the Gospel of the grace
of God."
No sooner had he, under the influence of such pure and
elevated sentiments, determined upon his course, than he
entered heartily upon the work of preparation for the
sacred ministry. He acted not under the influence of that
fanatical impulse which leads many to believe that " igno-
rance is the mother of devotion;" that God is most glorified
c*
38 MEMOIR OF THE
bj sanctifiying dulness to bis service, that they can most
successfully preach the Gospel who are most unskilled
in the wisdom which man teacheth, and have the least
amount of human literature ; and who are not willing even
to admit that God may consecrate human learning to sub-
serv^e the interests of religion — as he did the gold and silver
brought from heathen 'countries to be ornaments of the
Temple at Jerusalem. No. Dr. Moore did not " rush in
where angels dare not tread," without that preparatory
training and study which, by the Divine blessing, would
make him " a workman that needeth not to be ashamed,
rightly dividing the word of truth." His first step was
carefully to revise his classical studies under his former tutor
Mr. Alexander Leslie. We know not under whose direc-
tion he pursued his theological studies, but presume that he
availed himself of the best facilities which the clergy of
New York could afford at that day.
Having completed his preparatory course as a candidate
for orders, he was ordained Deacon in July, 1787, by the
Right Rev. Samuel Provoost, D. D., who had been conse-
crated Bishop for the diocese of New York, in company
with Bishop White, for Pennsylvania, on 4th of February
preceding, by the Archbishop of Canterbury. This was
the first ordination which ever took place in the diocese of
New York. Its little band of six clergymen had just wel-
comed their first Bishop, whose consecration, in company
with Dr. White, and that of Dr. Seabury, obtained a few
years before from the non-juring Bishops of Scotland, gave
to the American Church the canonical number of Bishops
required for an Episcopal College, and, by securing to her
the Apostolical succession, combining two independent
lines of descent, furnished her with the means of perpetuity
and extension, while at the same time it rendered her in-
LIFE OF BISHOP MOORE. 39
dependent of all foreign Churches for ordination, as she
had previously become free from their jurisdiction and con-
trol. At this period the organization of our ecclesiastical
communion became perfect and complete. Now, and not
before, the Protestant Episcopal Church in the United
States became an integral member of the mystical body
of Christ — an independent branch of the Holy Catholic
Church.
Dr. Moore's ordination as Deacon took place in St.
George's Chapel, (now Church,) in the city of New York.
In that sacred edifice he had been devoted to God in holy
baptism, there he had renewed his baptismal vow in the
holy rite of confirmation, there he had knelt to receive for
the first time the consecrated symbols of the body and blood
of Jesus, and now, he was permitted before the same altar to
ofTer the higher vows of ministerial dedication. These
sacred and interesting associations made a deep impression
upon his mind, which seemed to become more vivid and
powerful as he advanced in age. Towards the close of
life he was in the habit of making an annual visit to the
scenes of his youthful residence ; and seldom did he do so
without officiating in St. George's. He loved the spot. He
delighted within its hallowed walls — dear to him by so
many precious recollections! — to unite his devotions with
those of the worshipping assembly, and to proclaim to dying
men the message of eternal life. In the year 1837 he
preached in that Church on the occasion of completing the
fiftieth year of his ministerial life. It was an occasion that
called forth all the tenderness and pathos for which he was
so distinguished, and gave full play to the warm aflTections
of his devoted and grateful heart. In his annual visits he
often touched upon the tender reminiscences of earlierdays
with such power as to stir up the souls of his auditors, and
melt them into sympathy and tears.
40 MEMOIR OF THE
The last occasion on which he officiated in St. George's
was Sunday, October 3rd, 1841. By the kindness of my
beloved friend and brother, the rector of that Church, I
am enabled to present a touching account of a most interest-
ing incident of the day as related in a sermon preached by
him in St. Andrew's Church, Staten Island, occasioned by
the decease of his venerated friend.
" In closing this notice of our lamented friend, may I be
allowed to notice a slight, but affecting, incident of recent
occurrence.
" From our long intimacy and friendship it has always
been my desire on his visits to New York to obtain for my
people the privilege of hearing his pleasing and pathetic
annunciations of heavenly truth.
"During the session of the late General Convention I sought
and obtained this favour at his hands. It was the solemn
occasion of our monthly communion, and his discourse (from
the text, ' It is a faithful saying, and worthy of all accepta-
tion that Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners,')
delivered almost with the same command of voice, and
earnest and affecting interest of manner, that characterized
his earlier years, was not only delightfully in consonance
with the views that have been presented of the general
character of his pulpit communications, but peculiarly
affecting and impressive by its adaptedness to the duties of
the day.
"While the sacred elements were in the course of distribu
tion, he asked of me a few moments' suspension ; and taking
his place in the desk, he stated to the congregation in a
few emphatic sentences the peculiar feelings of his mind at
that interesting moment. ' Here,' said the venerable
speaker, * in this very Church I was baptized; here I re-
newed my baptismal vows in the rite of confirmation.
Here I first knelt to receive the emblems of the dying love
LIFE OF BISHOP MOORE. 41
of my Redeemer; here I was ordained a deacon, and here
I was advanced to the order of the priesthood. Meeting
with you on this solemn occasion, and standing in this con-
secrated place, these reminiscences of some of the most in-
teresting incidents of my life, at my present advanced age,
and with little expectation of ever again being with yoa,
are to me so deeply affecting that I thought you would
excuse a few moments' interruption of the service, that I
might be allowed, with heartfelt gratitude to my heavenly
Father, thus briefly to advert to them.'
" Little more was added ; but you may easily imagine the
effect of such a communication, brief as it was, delivered at
such a time, and in such a manner, and by such a man.
There were few dry eyes in the congregation ; and it was
well calculated to deepen the impression of his excellent
discourse, and the sacred service by which it was followed.
" To me it is a grateful reflection that the house of God,
which has been the place of my humble ministrations for
the last quarter of a century, had been the scene of my
aged friend's first dedication to God, then of the confirma-
tion of his vows, and his first communion, and afterwards of
his investiture, in two of its grades, with his ministerial com-
mission.
" But our venerable father and friend is gone. Never
again in this world shall we hear that melodious voice,
which, even on the verge of death, lost not its sweetness ;
never again behold that countenance of calm serenity,
which beamed with affection on all around him; that ' hoary
head,' which to him was a crown of glory, being found in
the way of righteousness; that venerable form clothed in
its plain and modest attire, so well befitting his age and
station. He is gone ! Death, the mighty destroyer, has
done his work. But his shaft, though sudden, found him
42 MEMOIR OF THE
not unprepared ; and that goodness and mercy, which had
followed him all his days, permitted him an easy passage
into his eternal rest. If the depressing character of his
disease prevented his saying much, he was privileged to
say enough to satisfy all around him that he was resigned
to the will of God, and ready for the summons.
" It is not so much on the bed of death, where the pros-
tration of the body bears down all the mind's activities,
that we would in general seek our strongest evidences of a
spiritual state. It is to the tenor of the life we resort, as
the surest and the safest test ; and to that we may confi-
dently appeal for a well-grounded assurance that our dear
departed father is now resting in the bosom of his Father
and his God."
Dr. Moore was subjected to but a brief trial in the dia-
conate ; and we arc not informed of the special field of his
labours while he held the lowest order of the ministry. But
having been admitted to priest's orders in September, 17S7,
he was immediately appointed to the pastoral charge of
Grace Church, in Rye, Westchester county, in the diocese
of New York. For his services in this small and feeble
parish he received a salary of three hundred dollars per
annum and his fuel. Out of this stinted stipend he was
obliged to pay thirty dollars for house rent. But notwith-
standing his limited income, which would afford him the
means of procuring but few of the comforts and none of
the luxuries of life, he has been heard to say, that he en-
joyed much peace and happiness in this his earliest paro-
chial connexion. His fidelity and zeal in the discharge of
ministerial duty won the respect, confidence and affection
of his flock. He there secured the attachment of some
warm and valuable friends ; and especially that of the
Hon. Johx Jay, who to the highest qualities of a jurist,
LIFE OF BISHOP MOORE. 43
civilian and statesman, added the graces of a devout and
exemplary follower of Christ : who amidst all the tempta-
tions of diplomacy and politics, maintained a conscience
void of offence, because actuated by religious principles :
who in the whole of his brilliant public career never per-
formed an act which could sully his reputation, or bring dis-
grace upon his holy profession ; and who in the reception of
all the high honours with which his services were rewarded
by a grateful country, was ready to lay them all at the
foot of the cross, and counted them as nothing and less than
nothing in comparison with God's favour which is life, and
his loving-kindness which is better than life. This great
and good man, who was a vestryman of the parish while Dr.
Moore was rector at Rye, cherished ever afterwards a
sincere friendship for him, which was interrupted only by
death. And any minister of the Gospel might consider him-
self honoured in having enjoyed for many years the confi-
dence and affection of such a man as John Jay.
The ministry of the youthful rector in his first parish
was, as we have reason to believe, not only acceptable but
useful.
" The edifice in which the congregation at Rye now
worship, is a monument of his zeal, and a part of the first
fruits of his labours in promoting the temporal as well as
spiritual welfare of the Church, which he so long and so
truly loved : it was by his exertions that the money was
raised with which this church was built."* If we had
access to the register of that parish, or if we could inquire
of any of the surviving attendants upon his services there,
we might probably be able to state facts which would
show that his labours were not without their appropriate
♦ Dr. Hawks.
44 MEMOIR OF THE
results in the edification of that spiritual temple, formed of
lively stones, which God animates by his Spirit: but in the
absence of such information, the success of his subsequent
labours affords ample ground for the conviction that some
veill be gems in his crown of rejoicing who were seals of his
earliest ministry.
At the close of a ministry of about two years at Rye, Dr.
Moore was called to decide upon a change of residence by
an invitation to take charge of St. Andrew's parish, Staten
Island. To prevent those heart-burnings and misunder-
standings which are so apt to arise from an unexpected
sundering of parochial ties, Dr. Moore adopted a prudential
course worthy of imitation by all clergymen under similar
circumstances. He summoned his vestry together, communi-
cated to them the call he had received, and solicited their
friendly advice as to the decision which it would be proper
for him to make in the premises. The confidence thus re-
posed in the vestry was well adapted to disarm prejudice,
and to shield him from reproach. His friend Jay was the
organ of communicating the result of their deliberations ;
which was, that, although the vestry and the parishioners
would deeply regret the loss of his valuable services ; yet,
as his friends, they could not with propriety object to a re-
moval by which, in all probability, the comfort of his family
and his ministerial usefulness would be greatly enhanced.
He was not a stranger to the inhabitants of Staten Island.
On the contrary, he was well known to many of them,
having, while a student of theology, practised medicine
there for a short time. During that period he officiated on
one occasion, as a lay reader in the Church at Richmond,
and a very favourable impression was produced by the
fervent and animated manner in which he performed the
services of the Church. The first sermon he preached on
LIFE OF BISHOP MOORE. 45
the Island was occasioned by the decease of a daughter of
the Rev. Mr. Rowland, rector of the parish. This discourse
was greatly admired, and a vacancy occurring in the rector-
ship soon after, he was immediately selected as the suc-
cessor. By the prudent step above narrated he was
enabled, without alienating in any degree the confidence
and affection of his former flock, to accept this call ; and
he accordingly entered upon his new charge in October,
1789.
The beautiful and romantic island, which was the scene
of his ministerial labours for so many years, situated at the
mouth of the harbour of New York, is about fifteen miles
in length and about ten miles in breadth, and is one of the
most lovely and attractive places of residence that can be
found in the vicinity of that emporium of our country. At
the time of Dr. Moore's removal to it the whole island was
comprised in the parish entrusted to his charge. He was
then in the prime and vigour of life, and the field was ad-
mirably adapted to give full scope to the ardent zeal and
untiring energy which in him were consecrated to the work
of the Gospel. Most assiduously did he cultivate that field
for more than twenty years ; and by the divine blessing upon
his faithful labours much fruit was produced in the salva-
tion of souls, the extension of the church, and the advance-
ment of the glory of God.
At the present time the parish of St. Andrew's, Staten
Island, is one of the wealthiest, and affords one of the
largest ecclesiastical livings to be found in the Union. But
fifty-three years ago its faithful and indefatigable rector, by
reason of the smallness of the salary, felt, in common with
the majority of his clerical brethren then and since, the
" res angusise domi,''' to such an extent as to be compelled
to resort to different expedients for making such an addi-
46 MEMOIR OF THE
tion to his slender stipend as would enable him to meet the
wants of his growing family. At one time he practised
medicine in connexion with his ministerial duties : but the
frequent demands for his medical services so materially in-
terfered with his clerical labours, that he was soon com-
pelled to relinquish the practice. For about seven years,
in compliance with an invitation from the vestry of the
church in Perth Amboy, New Jersey, he officiated once a
fortnight in that parish. At the close of that period, in
1800, the chapel was built on the north side of Staten
Island, and to the advancement of religion at that point,
he subsequently devoted a portion of his time and labours.
In the year 1793 he commenced a school which he con-
tinued to instruct until 1802. The secular employments
he engaged in, innocent as they were in themselves, and
benevolent in their influence, were of course unsuited to
the taste of one who desired to " wait on the Lord without
distraction," and to be wholly given up to the work of
saving souls in the ministry of the Gospel : and we may be
sure that nothing would have reconciled him even to a tem-
porary engagement in them, but the necessity of thus pro-
viding for the comfort of those beloved ones whom Provi-
dence had made dependent on him for their support.
In few men have the feelings of paternal interest and
affection been so strong and vivid as they were in the heart
of Dr. jNJoore. His love for his children began with their
birth, and suflfered no diminution after they had reached
the years of maturity. The same deep interest in their
welfare, \Ahich marked his character as the parent of a few
infant children, — still glowed in the bosom of the hoary
headed patriarch, who could look around upon his numer-
oiis family settled in life as heads of their respective house-
holds : and the current of aflection which came in warm
LIFE OF BISHOP MOORE. 47
and gushing streams from the heart, descended in its free
flowings to his children's children. We have seen some of
his letters to his children, written about the time of which
we now speak, which afford beautiful illustrations of this
lovely trait in his character, and show the tender workings
of a heart ever yearning for the temporal and spiritual
welfare of his offspring.
The following specimens of his domestic correspondence,
addressed to two of his daughters, who were spending some
time with their aunt, Mrs. Davis, at Stratford, Connecticut,
will be gratifying to the reader.
Glebe, Staten IslanJ, June 29, 1802.
Your acceptable favour, my dear Crissy, came duly to
hand, and afforded me that pleasure which your filial at-
tentions have ever produced in my mind. A variety of
duties have prevented me from attending to your commu-
nications as immediately as I could have wished, but my
silence, I trust, has not been misconstrued by my daughter
into a forgetfulness of parental obligation. My children
share largely in my regard, and, I hope, by their virtuous
behaviour, will prov^e a source of great happiness to their
fond father. There is not an hour in which you are not
the subject of my thoughts! Oh, let me beseech you
both, to listen to the counsel and advice of your dear aunt,
and to profit from her maternal admonitions. She is close-
ly connected to you, and, I am sensible, will perform, with
cheerfulness, every duty attached to that connexion ; re-
member how much my peace and comfort is dependent
upon your conduct. My children have the happiness of
their father at command, and it rests with them to make
my life a scene of comfort, or to involve me in inexpressi-
48 MEMOIR OF THE
ble distresf. Behave well, and no exertions shall be want-
ing, within the reach of my abilities, to render you happy.
I have been labouring hard for years to procure you some
little support, in case it should please God to wrest me from
your embrace; and you shall never want that aid whether
I am spared or taken away, which it is in my power to
confer upon you. I mention this circumstance in order to
establish in your minds that claim which I have to your
regard, and to show you that you are bound in justice, as
well as duty, to contribute to my happiness. Keep the
example of your amiable mother in view, and endeavour
to imitate her virtues. Tread in her steps, and you will
secure to yourselves the approbation of your fellow mor-
tals, and the unspeakable pleasures of a quiet mind ! Neg-
lect not the performance of those duties which you owe to
your Creator and Redeemer. Let your prayers be regu-
larly offered up to the throne of divine grace, and show forth
the praises of your God " not only with your lips, but in
your lives." Be attentive to your aged grandfather, do
every thing that will contribute to his comfort, and nothing
that will give him the least pain ; live in love and unity with
your dear cousins, and be obedient to your aunt. I hope
soon to hear from you both, and to find your letters cor-
rect, and well written. Perhaps I shall see you next month.
Present my best regards to your grandpapa, your aunt,
and cousins, and believe me, my dear girls, with the since-
rest regard.
Your friend and father,
Richard Channing Moore.
P. S. Your mamma and brother send their love and re-
spects to you, and to sister Davis' family. Give my bro-
therly regards to Mr. Baldwin, to whom I beg you to be
LIFE OF BISHOr MOORE. 49
respectful. I hope that you devote a part of every day to
the improvement of your minds. Any assistance that you
may require with respect to dress or pocket money, your
aunt will be pleased to supply you with, and I will repay
her at our first interview.
My Dear Children, — Before I parted with you at Strat-
ford, we had entered into an arrangement of an epistolary
nature : and you both promised that 1 should hear from
you once in a fortnight: but notwithstanding your firm as-
surances, upwards of two months have elapsed, and only
two letters have reached the island. If you were ignorant
of those numerous duties in which I am involved, I should
think that my daughters stood upon ceremony with their
father ; but as you are both sensible how little leisure time
I possess, I cannot allow the thought a place in my bosom.
The/aci must be, that each of you have written at least
half a dozen letters, but through the neglect of the post-
master, they have failed in obtaining their destination ;
this being the case, my children have performed their duty,
and it would be cruel in me to attach the least blame to
either of them. I would advise you, however, to speak to
the post-master, in order that he may take proper mea-
sures to prevent a similar disappointment. Your dear
brother passed the holidays with us. He enjoys good health,
and appears to be pleased with his studies. His behaviour
secures to him the good opinion of all my friends, and num-
bers have expressed the warmest interest in his advance-
ment. Unless death should deprive me of his society, I feel
a high assurance that he will prove a source of very con-
siderable comfort to me. Virtue and discretion form
our road to happiness; the youth who is attentive to their
impressive dictates, will always preserve his own mind in
50 MEMOIR OF THE
serenity, and obtain also the approbation of God, and of
his fellow- mortals. Young people sometimes imagine that
the precepts of their parents are too strict, to merit their
attention and observation ; but were they acquainted with
the world, and could they see the difficulties which lay
before them, they would acknowledge the propriety of ad-
monition, and listen to the dictates of experience. Pa-
rents and friends, in aflfording instruction to those commit-
ted to their charge, can have but 07ie motive, and that is
the benevolent wish to see their children excel in the prac-
tice of every laudable virtue. The vivacity of youth re-
quires a check to keep it within the bounds of prudence.
Children should, therefore, submit to direction, and instead
of being displeased with admonition, they should be grate-
ful to those who mercifully bestow it upon them. You
are at present under the maternal care of an aunt who
loves you ; the aflfection which she entertained for your
dearest mother, she has fixed upon you. She views you
both as the representatives of a beloved sister, and her
heart beats with tenderness for you. Study, therefore, my
dear daughters, study, / beseech you, to make her happy ;
attend to her requests, and let her see that you value her
instructions, by paying an implicit obedience to what she
says. My happiness is suspended upon the thread of my
children ; if they behave well it is all that I desire. Provi-
dence has blessed me with a decent competency ; my only
object, therefore, in this world is to see them amiable, and
I shall be as comfortable as human nature will admit of.
It is by our behaviour in this life, that our happiness in the
next will be proportioned. If we live agreeably to God's
word, eternal joys await us beyond the grave ; if we are
sinful and disobedient, ruin unceasing stares us in the face.
Endeavour, then, to conduct yourselves in such a manner as
LIFE OF BISHOP MOORE. 51
to secure the smiles of your heavenly Father. Remember
with gratitude the mercy and compassion of your Re-
deemer; and show forth his praise, not only with your
lips, but in your lives. How pleasing is the thought of
meeting our departed friends in heaven ; of seeing those
with whom we have lived in love ; and of being established
in the possession of endless and eternal bliss ! Yes, my dear
daughters, if we are not wanting to ourselves, we shall
meet in glory, and enjoy with our God a state of uninter-
rupted happiness. Sorrow and sighing in heaven find no
admission — our harps of praise and gratitude will be ever
strung, and pure unsullied comfort fill and pervade our
bosoms ! Your mother, praised be God, is already there ;
her evidences were as clear as the sun, and her faith in the
promises of God, immoveable ! Prepare to follow her. As
a m,inister of the Gospel, I beseech you to keep your lamps
lit, and as a. father I pray you to tread in the path of duty
and of holiness.
Your friend and father,
Richard Channing Moore.
His first wife, whose peaceful and triumphant death is
alluded to in the preceding letter, was the mother of the
eldest son, David Moore, and of two daughters, Chris-
tian and Eliza. On the 23rd of March, in the year 1797,
he was married to Miss Sarah Messareau, of Staten Is-
land, who, at her decease, which occurred in August, 1824,
after their removal to Virginia, left six children as the
pledges of their mutual affection : four of whom were
daughters; Gertrude, Sarah, Frances, and Mary Ann: and
two sons ; Van Rensalaer, and Richard Channing. Both
the wives of the late Bishop were not only ladies of dis-
tinguished piety and virtue, but remarkable for great per-
52 MEMOIR OF THE
sonal beauty ; and his nine children still survive him. The
following letters exhibit the state of the Bishop's feelings
on the demise of his second wife.
LETTER 0\ THE DEATH OF MRS. MOORE, TO REV. MR. NORRIS.
Richmond, August 17, 1824.
My Beloved Son, — Your letter of sympathy and condo-
lence reached me in due time, and from the expressions of
tenderness which mark its pages, you have furnished me
vi'ith another, and an acceptable evidence of your regard.
I had formed the idea when a young man, that such a be-
reavement in advanced life, would be attended with less
distres sthan I have found it to be. I had concluded that
as we advanced in years our feelings became less acute,
consequently the pungency of grief less severe ; but expe-
rience has taught me a different lesson, and convinced me
that as long as we live we have much to learn. In early
life our spirits are so buoyant, that we are enabled to view
the brightest part of every scene ; and from the hope of
better days to come, our aiflictions are divested of that
edge, which prostrates in the dust the expectations and
promises of age. In advanced life we become more at-
tached to home, and although from principle, as well as
inclination, we occasionally mingle with the world, still
home is always uppermost in our minds, and furnishes us
with the most delight.
To have our domestic retreat stripped of its enjoyments;
to look, and look in vain, for those with whom we have
been associated for many years, constitute considerations of
a character so formidable and impressive, that nothing
less than experience can present to our view the dreari-
ness of the picture. Afflicting, however, as these events
are, the Almighty, I believe most firmly, intends them for
LIFE OF BISHOP MOORE. 33
our good. Every tie that he is pleased to sever, serves to
break our hold upon this transitory world ; every connex-
ion which he takes from our embrace, provided those con-
nexions are prepared for death, he takes to himself, and by
assuring us that our friends are living in the enjoyment of
happiness in his presence, heaven is brought more fully to
our view. The transition which we must soon experience,
appears to the believer as the transition from one apart-
ment of his father's mansion to another — from an abode in
which sickness and sorrow dwell, to that abode in heaven
where sorrow and sighing find no admission, and where our
departed friends will bid us the most sincere and joyful
welcome. To murmur at the dispensation of Providence
I feel no temptation. The Lord has been so good to me,
my dear son, that 1 should be worse than ungrateful, were
I to dispute his love. I kiss the hand which has dealt this
last blow, and am resigned to His will.
Dr. Wilmer has no doubt related to you the calmness
and composure with which my dear departed wife was
blessed. She was sensible to the last moment. Her mind
was serene and unclouded. Her hopes were bright and
encouraging. Her last words to me were spoken in reply
to a quotation I made to her from the 23d Psalm : " Though
I walk through the valley and shadow of death, I will fear
no evil." She turned to me, and with a smile which pro-
claimed the presence of the God she loved, she said,
" There is no evil there." May we die the death of the
righteous, and may our last end be as tranquil as was her's !
With love to all my friends in Alexandria,
Believe me your affectionate father in Christ,
Richard Chanmng Moore.
54 MEMOIR OF THE
TO HIS SON UPON THE SAME SUBJECT.
August 11th, 1824,
My Dear Son, — The long indisposition of your dear mo-
ther has been brought to a termination ; and she has bid
an adieu to all her ailments, and entered into the joy of
her Lord. The tranquillity and composure with which she
met her dissolution, forms another evidence to the many I
have heard of the power of a saving faith, and of that be-
lief in the promises of God which inspires the soul with
confidence and the mind with perfect assurance in his
word. To the inquiries I repeatedly made of her relative
to the state of her mind, she uniformly assured me that
she had not a doubt of her acceptance with God, and that
her prospects were perfectly clear. When I called her
attention to the declaration of the Psalmist — " Though I
walk through the valley and shadow of death, I will fear
no evil," she looked at me with an eye beaming with life,
and a countenance clothed with a heavenly smile, and then
said, " There is no evil there." Her understanding to the
last moment was undisturbed ; and I do not believe that
her reason left her until the breath left her body. She
placed, a few minutes before her death, her hands upon
her breast ; and from the motion of her lips, it was evident
that she was engaged in prayer; after which she raised
her eyes to heaven, and exclaimed, " Come, Lord Jesus,
come quickly !" She died without the movement of a
finger. In a conversation she held with me the morning
preceding her dissolution, her children formed the objects
of her solicitude ; and she requested me to press religion
upon their consciences. Her funeral was attended with
every mark of respect; and Dr. Wilmer, who had come
upon a visit to me, preached upon the occasion the day
LIFE OF BISHOP MOORE. 55
following, which was Sunday, the 8th inst., from these
words — " Watchman, what of the night ?" Her remains
are interred in my church-yard — the first burial which
has taken place within that solemn enclosure. Thus, my
dear son, am I left alone in my old age. God has blessed
me with a promising family of affectionate children, to
whom I look up with confidence for every return of duti-
ful attention. They have been the subjects of my prayers.
They have cost me many a pang when I have seen them
in distress. They have enjoyed my love without inter-
mission ; and I cannot doubt for a moment their disposition
to make me those returns to which my conduct to them
gives me the most legitimate claim.
Your affectionate father,
Richard Channing Moore.
Soon after Dr. Moore's settlement on Staten Island a
circumstance took place which exerted an important in-
fluence upon his whole future ministry, adding greatly to
its acceptableness and efficiency : I mean one by which he
was driven, without any such purpose of his own, to adopt
the habit of extemporaneous speaking. It was what he
had never attempted while at Rye ; and had never thought
of doing so, because it was not customary with the clergy
of the Church at that day. But he seems to have been
drawn into it against his will. We here recite the facts,
learned from his own lips, as an addition to the many in-
stances on record in which God has employed strange and
apparently trifling incidents as means of accomplishing most
important results. Being at the house of one of his parish-
ioners, where he had been invited to spend the evening,
after tea several of the neighbours came in ; and soon, very
much to his surprise, the master of the house placed a stand
56 MEMOIR OF THE
with a Bible on it before him, at the same time requestin-g
that he would give them a word of exhortation. He found
himself placed in a most embarrassing position. It seemed
very much like the scene exhibited at the house of Corne-
lius, when the devout Centurion, having called together his
near kinsmen and friends, said to Peter, " Now, therefore, we
are all here present before God, to hear all things that are
commanded thee of God." What could be done 1 He was
indeed the ambassador of God, charged with a message of
peace and reconciliation to man ; but he had never pre-
sumed to deliver the heavenly message except in the form
of a written communication. But would it do for him to
dishonour his commission in the view of the people, by
pleading inability to discharge it? Could he answer it to
God, if he were to refuse the word of pious instruction thiis
solicited of him by a waiting assembly ? No ! Necessity
was laid upon him. And he felt that he could not, without
disgrace or guilt, evade the duty thus strangely and unex-
pectedly demanded of him. He might be filled with trem-
bling and fear at the prospect of failure, but there was no
other alternative but to nerve himself for the undertaking.
He gave out a hymn, and while it was being sung, selected
a chapter for exposition, at the same time, doubtless, lifting
his heart in fervent prayer to God for grace to do his duty.
His mouth was opened, and the Lord enabled him, as he
did St.Peter, to preach peace by Jesus Christ, and to say
to his hearers, with tenderness, fidelity and airection, " To
you is the word of this salvation sent."
His success in this first etfort so far exceeded his expecta-
tions, that " he purchased to himself great boldness in the
faith which is in Christ Jesus:" and ever afterwards was
ready to improve every opportunity of usefulness that was
afforded, and whether "in season" or "out of season", to
LIFE OP BISHOP MOOSE. 87
preach the word without fear, relying upon the sure
promises " My grace is sufficient for thee" and " as thy day
so shall thy strength be."
Would it not be well if others of our clergy should, by^,
the like means, be forced into the discovery and exercise of
ministerial gifts which the Lord has conferred upon them,
not to lie idle and unimproved, but to be freely used for the
conversion of sinners and the edifying of the Church.
Bishop Moore was at no period of his ministry a purely
extemporaneous preacher. His sermons were the result of
studious and careful preparation, and his general habit was
to take his manuscripts into the pulpit with him, although
his attention was not much confined to them during the
process of delivery ; and his manner had much of the ease
and animation which characterize that of the extempora-
neous speaker. When he was so far advanced in life as to
render glasses necessary in the use of his written discourses,
some of the most intelligent and pious of his hearers were
accustomed to say, " We are always glad to see him push
his spectacles up ; for we are certain that we shall then
hear something peculiarly impressive." Who that has
ever listened to his lecture-room addresses, or to those fervid
and eloquent appeals after sermons by other preachers,
which he was in the habit of describing as "codicils," and
which he so much delighted in, would hesitate to reckon
them among his happiest efforts ? Their pathos melted the
hearts — their persuasiveness moved the wills and swayed
the decisions of his auditory : and while all gazed with
admiration at those brilliant scintillations which sprung out
hke sparks from the glowing furnace of his soul — the
trembling sinner was incited to flee from the wrath to come,
and the mourning penitent was inspired with consolation
and hope. Under such affecting exhibitions of the gospel
58 MEMOIE OF THE
none could doubt its truth, or fail to realize its power.
Vain would be the attempt to catch the spirit of those
glowing addresses in the lecture-room and the chancel,
which received their charms from the inspiration of the
moment. We might as well attempt to imprint the colours
of the rainbow upon canvass by pressing it against the
cloud, as to transfer such warm and living messages of
truth to paper. To attempt to embody their excellences
in a written address would be to strip them of their highest
beauties. To use a comparison of Montgomery, it would
be like gathering the dew drops in your hand in the hope
that they would retain their brilliancy. While hanging
upon the morning grass and reflecting the rays of the sun,
they sparkle like diamonds of the brightest lustre, but when
gathered and mingled together, there is nothing in their
aspect to distinguish them from common water !
During his residence on Staten Island, Dr. Moore ac-
quired habits of fidelity and zeal which were confirmed
and strengthened, and gave great efficiency to his labours
in subsequent years and other scenes of his devoted minis-
try. He never shrunk from self-denial and hardship, nor
did he ever allow pleasure to interfere with duty. Not
only was he ready to comply with all parochial services by
day ; but, if, as sometimes happened, he were requested in
the night to visit a distant part of the Island to baptize a
sick child, or administer the consolations of religion to a
dying parishioner, he did not hesitate to expose himself to
the inconvenience and danger of a dark and even stormy
ride. This promptness in the discharge of the most try-
ing duties which devolve on a parochial clergyman, was
probably confirmed, if not induced, by an affecting incident
which occurred at an early period of his ministry. '• On
one occasion he was invited to meet a company of highly
tIFE OF BISHOP MOORE. 59
esteemed friends at dinner. Just as he was getting into
his gig a messenger arrived from a distant part of the
Island, requesting him to visit a very poor communicant,
who was dangerously ill. Obedient to the call of duty he
relinquished his proposed pleasure, but still with some re-
luctance, wishing that the call of duty had not been made,
and almost incUned to delay it until to-morrow. When
arrived at the humble cottage, he was unusually success-
ful in imparting the consolations of religion, and in quiet-
ing the fears and animating the hopes of his humble friend.
As he knelt on the dirt floor, the grace of God warmed
his affections, and with unwonted fervour he poured forth
his supplications for the dying Christian before the throne
of their common Father and God. As he returned home
late in the evening, with his own faith strengthened and
his Christian graces enlivened, he wept at the thoughts of
the reluctance with which he had gone to so delightful a
duty, and was humbled under a sense of his ingratitude to
that merciful God, who had thus by his very kindness re-
buked him. That night his sick friend died, full of peace and
hope. The Bishop continued to his death to look back to
that evening, spent in the dying Christian's chamber, as per-
haps, the happiest of his life ; and he learned from the oc-
currence a lesson which he did not forget ; never under any
circumstances to postpone duty to pleasure."*
Soon after the death of Bishop Moore, there appeared
in the secular newspapers a thrilling narrative illustrative
of his philanthropy and piety. The act which it records
is worthy of a more permanent memorial than it has re-
ceived from the periodical press ; and the reader will be
gratified by having the original account of the incident
transferred to these pages. It is as follows :
* Rev. Mr. Norwood's address at the funeral of Bishop Moore.
60 UEUOIS OF THB
From the N. Y. Observer.
A REMINISCENCE OF BISHOP MOORE.
Messrs. Editors, — I have read, with interest, your notices
of the death and burial of the late Rt. Rev. Bishop Moore,
of Virginia. No eulogy from so humble an individual as
myself can add any thing to the estimation in which he
was held by the public, — yet I have long owed him a debt
of gratitude which I would repay by any means in my
power. I must therefore solicit the privilege of recording
in your valuable paper a scene of danger and distress in
which the Rev. Richard Moore was made the instrument,
in the hands of God, of saving myself and nine other per-
sons from a watery grave.
Many years ago, before the bridges were built over the
Hackensack and Passaic rivers, it was customary when a
drove of cattle arrived from the eastward for the Phila-
delphia market, to transport them from Whitehall to Eliza-
bethtown point ; and on such occasions, all the ferry boats,
six or seven in number, were collected, in order that the
drove might be transported at one and the same time. It
was on such an occasion, on the 0th day of April, 1793,
that I took a passage in one of the Elizabethtown ferry
boats, in which ten or eleven oxen completely filled up the
hold. There were on board the boat eight male and two
female passengers, and the boatman, named Hiram Hat-
field. The wind was blowing so violently at S. W., and a
strong tide of ebb, that all the boats which preceded us,
thought it dangerous to keep the ship channel, and there-
fore steered immediately across the North river, in order
to gain the shoal water to the west of Gibbet Island. But
our captain, more ambitious and adventurous, determined
LIFE OF BISHOP MOOHE. 61
to avail himself of the strength of the tide in the ship
channel, and in that way outrun his competitors. We had
proceeded down the bay to a point between Robin's reef
and Yellow-hook, on the Long Island shore, when the
turbulence of the waves was so great, and the boat rolled
so heavily to leeward, that much water was taken in over
the gunwale, and the oxen occupied the hold of the boat
so entirely, that no access could be had to the well, where
a scoop was ordinarily used to free the boat from water :
the consequence was, that the boat soon became water-
logged, and not answering her helm, fell off into the trough
of the sea. In order to bring her head to wind, the fore-
sail was lowered, but without effect; and an abortive at-
tempt was made to put her before the wind and run back
to the city; so that we then lay at the mercy of the wind
and the waves, drifting rapidly towards the Narrows. An
attempt was then made to free the boat of the oxen, and
those to windward were cut loose, which only hastened
the sad catastrophe — for the oxen, unable to keep their
feet, sunk down to leeward, and the water then made a
complete cascade over the gunwale. It now became evi-
dent that the boat would fill; bat we had no apprehension
that any part of her would sink — not knowing that there
was a quantity of ballast under the floor of the cockpit
but as soon as the water had reached that part of the boat
it began to settle rapidly, and most of the passengers rushed
forward to the forecastle; I myself ran to the mainmast
and was in the act of ascending by the hoops of the main-
sail, which was still hoisted, when one of the female pas-
sengers, a stout, athletic person of about my own weight,
caught me round the neck, and held me with such a death-
like grasp that she broke my hold of the hoops, and we
both plunged into the billows. My situation at that moment
e2
62 MEMOIR OF THE
appeared without a ray of hope; to unclasp her hands was
impossible ; but through the kind providence o^ God I was
enabled to thrust them over my head, and I immediately
rose to the surface, and found a barrel of oil about twenty
feet to leeward of the boat, (as to the tide,) by which I
sustained myself; but in a moment, the woman whom 1
had left eight or ten feet under water, and whose face I
never expected to see again, rose by my side, (by reason
of the quantity of air in her clothes,) and again attempted
to grapple me ; but dreading such a dangerous contact, I
resigned the barrel to her and swam to the head of the
mainmast, and straddled the gaff of the mainsail, which
was still hoisted, holding on by the halyards. I had not
a moment's time to look round for my fellow passengers, for
I felt a youth of about twelve or fourteen years of age
cUnging to my feet, whom I drew up and placed before me
on the gaff. It was the son of a Mrs. McLean, who had
lived at Whitehall slip. As soon as he could speak, he in-
quired eagerly for his mother — but in looking round I found
she was missing ; and I afterwards learned that she had
tied herself to the leeboard tackle to prevent being washed
overboard, and attempted to tie her son also, but he made
a successful resistance. In looking round for my other
companions in affliction, I found that our brave boatman
had secured six of them on the bow of the boat, not more
than four feet of which was above water. Placing him-
self on the outside of the shivering group, with the boat
rope in his hand, as often as one or another of them was
washed off by the violence of the waves, he would leap
off and restore them to their narrow and precarious rest-
ing place. The woman whom I left at the barrel of oil,
had been driven by the wind within reach of the main-
LIFE OF BISHOP MOORE. 63
mast, and seizing hold of the block, she clung- to it until
^e was finally rescued.
We had drifted down below the watering place (now
the Quarantine ground,) and not a rag of sail could be dis-
covered on the whole expanse of the bay, that could afford
us relief, except the Staten Island ferry boat, which was
three or four miles to leeward, and we knew not that our
situation was discovered by those on board. For forty-five
minutes we had been alternately drenched by the water,
or pierced by a cold wind, until our bones were benumbed,
and our hearts given up to despondence — for the danger
was every moment increasing, and the evening closing in.
At that fearful moment, that all-seeing and merciful Being,
without whom a sparrow falleth not to the ground, sent
Bishop Moore as an angel of mercy to save us from a
watery grave.
He and his lady had taken passage in Vanduzer's Staten
Island ferry boat, navigated by one young man, having in
tow a skiff with two men returning from market. Yielding
to the heart-touching appeals of the Bishop, these men con-
sented to encounter the wind and the waves, and row
directly towards us, while the Rev. gentleman (being
familiar with the management of the boat, from his pastoral
location on the Island,) undertook to assist in plying the
boat to windward under a press of sail, in which he exer-
cised the skill of a sailor united to the benevolence of a
Christian, — not without hazard of their own lives. The
sail-boat arrived first within hailing distance, and pressing
under our lee, our deliverer stood on the forecastle, with a
handkerchief bound round his head, and waiving his hand,
he exclaimed, " Hang on, my dear souls, a few moments
longer, and we will be there for your deliverance !^
While the sail-boat was making another tack to gain the
64 MEMOIR OF THE
windward side, the skiff had reached the leeward, and
directed their attention to the woman at the head of the
mainmast, who was in the greatest danger — but from her
helplessness, the skiff filled in attempting to get her in, and
their own safety depended on keeping hold of the mast. At
that critical moment the sail-boat gained a position which
enabled them to rescue every soul, except Mrs. McLean,
who at that time was 15 or 20 feet below the surface.
When we arrived on board the boat of our deliverers,
we found the cabin shoe-deep in water, from which, on ac-
count of the motion of the boat, it was impossible for Mrs.
Moore to secure herself, and it is probable she then laid the
foundation of the disease of which she died not long after-
ward.
We were then conducted back to Mr. Vanduzer's ferry,
where, through the active benevolence of Bishop Moore,
and the hospitality of Mr. Vanduzer's family, we were
made as comfortable in body as our circumstances rendered
possible ; and then Bishop Moore endeavoured to improve
our calamity and deliverance to the salvation of our souls.
He animadverted on the extreme danger in which we had
been involved — the hopelessness of our situation for near an
hour, and the feeble, and unlooked for means which God
had employed for our deliverance. " For his own part,"
he said, " the kind providence of God, in our deliverance,
appeared as manifest as if a hand had been stretched out
from heaven, and taken us by the hairs of our heads."
And then with a most impressive appeal to our hearts and
consciences, he said, ' Does not this demand a sacrifice of
heartfelt praise and gratitude to your Maker and Pre-
server ? And will you not unite witli me while I endeavour
to address the throne of Grace in your behalf?*' — To this
we feelingly assented, and were all, by his example, instant-
LIFE OF BISHOP MOORE. 65
ly on our knees : when the man of God poured out his
heart in a prayer so tender, devout and appropriate, that
our hearts must have been harder than the nether mill-
stone had they not melted with sorrow for our sins, and
gratitude for our deliverance.
A short recital appeared in one of the city papers at
that time, of the casualty, with a tribute of praise and
gratitude to Bishop Moore — which has probably been for-
gotten by all those who then read, or heard it; but al-
though nearly a half century has elapsed, the impressions
then made on my heart, have never been effaced, and the
name of Bishop Moore has never failed to call to my re-
membrance my deliverance from a watery grave, and my
able, and estimable deliverer !
William Steele.
December, 1841.
The fearless exposure of his own life to save his fellow
creatures from a watery grave, insured for this servant of
God the affectionate confidence of those who had been pre-
served by his instrumentality, and inclined them to listen
with docile meekness to the spiritual counsel and exhorta-
tion he addressed to them, and fervently to join in the sup-
plications and thanksgivings which he offered in their be-
half at the throne of the heavenly grace. The good seed
sown amid the melting and hallowing influence of that
eventful hour, will doubtless yield fruit unto eternal life.
Never does piety appear more attractive than when
clothed in the garment of charity, and acts of kindness and
beneficence on the part of its ministers prepare the way
for the effective exhibition of the Gospel. A cheerful ex-
ercise of all the tender charities of life, leading to a steady
course of well-doing, gave to Dr. Moore a strong hold upon
66 MEMOIR OP THE
the affections of his parishioners at large, and prepared
them to receive with meekness those doctrines of salvation
which were so beautifully illustrated and enforced by his
benevolent example. Never, probably, was a pastor more
thoroughly grounded in the respect and love of his flock
than the subject of this memoir. They knew the voice of
the shepherd and followed his gentle guidance as he led
them into green pastures and beside the still waters. In
the duties of that rural parish he found great delight, and
while cheered by the steady advancement and prosperity
of the churches entrusted to his care, he was also occasion-
ally favoured with those plentiful harvests which, in the
spiritual no less than in the natural world, give joy to the
heart of the husbandman. Amidst the trials and discour-
agements of his later years, he often adverted with plea-
sure to the ministry of his early manhood, and seemed, for
the moment, to live again in renovated youth, amidst the
interesting and beautiful scenery of that lovely Island.
More than once have we seen his old eyes sparkle with
pleasure, and his countenance brighten with joy, while rela-
ting a memorable incident that took place there. He
had been preaching at one of his usual stations in the
afternoon, and, the ordinary closing devotions being ended,
pronounced the benediction. But not a person moved to
retire. All seated themselves in the attitude of fixed and
solemn attention. A member of the church arose and said
' Dr. Moore, the people are not disposed to go home ; please
give us another sermon.' At the close of that, the like
scene was repeated. And the services were continued un-
til, at the close of a thi?'d sermon, the preacher was obliged
to say — * My beloved people, you ?nust now disperse — for,
although I delight to proclaim the glad tidings of salvation,
my strength is exhausted and I can say no more.' On the
LIFE OF BISHOP MOOEE. 67
next day, in his visits among his people, the mystery of this
strange occurrence was revealed. He found that while he
had been addressing the ears of the assembly, God's spirit
had been working powerfully upon their hearts. Under
those sermons many were awakened to righteousness ; it was
the commencement of a glorious revival of religion, as the
fruits of which more than sixty new-born souls were added
to the communion of the faithful.
While Dr. Moore was rector of St. Andrew's, Staten
Island, he was elected one of the clerical deputies to repre-
sent the diocese of New York in the General Convention of
the Protestant Episcopal Church in the United States,
holden in Baltimore, in the month of May, 180S. During
the session of the Convention he preached several times in
the churches of the latter city with his usual success, and
afterwards, on the death of Dr. Whitehead, received an
invitation from St. Paul's parish to become their rector.
This was the second call he received to that important
church ; both of which, however, he felt it his duty to de-
cline. At that General Convention, the only one ever held
south of Philadelphia, the hymns of the Church were in-
creased from twenty-seven to fifty-seven. Dr. Moore was
chairman of the committee by which the additional hymns
were selected. When the report was read by the chair-
man, one hymn after another was adopted without discus-
sion ; till at length an opponent of the measure paid the
following compliment to the sweet voice and impressive
manner of the reader. " I object to the hymns being read
by that gentleman, for we are so fascinated by his style of
reading that we shall without hesitation adopt them all."
During the whole of his more than twenty years' ministry
in St. Andrew's, he was incessantly engaged in the arduous
08 MEMOIR OF THE
but delightful duties of a faithful parish priest. He was in
labours most abundant ; " in season and out of season ;" in
the churches on the Lord's day, and in school-houses and
farm-houses in different parts of the Island on week-days, he
ceased not to proclaim to the people of his charge " the
unsearchable riches of Christ." His ministry there was,
in its character and effects, very much like that of the
sainted Legh Richmond, in the Isle of Wight. Such
scenes of pastoral fidelity on the one hand, and docile piety
on the other; of cordial co-operation and mutual affection
between ministers and people, give joy to Heaven, but,
alas ! are too seldom witnessed upon earth.
The following extract from the funeral address delivered
in the Monumental Church, by the Rev. Wm. Norwood,
Bishop Moore's assistant in said church, will form an ap-
propriate conclusion to this review of his ministry on
Staten Island.
" His faithfulness in all the departments of ministerial
duty; his zeal in the advancement of true religion; his
love of his Divine Master, and of his work ; his unaffected
love of all men ; his serenity of manners and entire freedom
from spiritual pride, and all moroseness in his theological
views, gave him not only an unbounded popularity among
the people, but won for him their warm admiration and
sincere attachment. The fruits of such labours, and of
such a Christian character, were soon abundantly mani-
fested. His congregation soon overflowed, and it became
necessary to enlarge the church edifice. The number of
his communicants rapidly increased, and the standard of
their piety was much elevated. Even after a large addi-
tion to the sittings of his church, it soon became necessary
to make still further provision for the numbers who flocked
LIFE OP BISHOP MOORE. 69
to his ministry, and a Chapel of Ease was provided, six
miles distant from the parish church. During his attend-
ance upon the late General Convention, in October last, the
writer of this sketch visited this scene of the early labours
of his venerated and beloved friend. It was grateful to
every good feeling of the heart to witness the ardent love
and unaffected veneration for their old pastor, which were
still cherished, and remained enshrined in the hearts of his
former parishioners and their children. It was delightful
to address, in the two beautiful churches of the Parish,
large congregations of zealous worshippers of Almighty God,
and to see the son of this venerable man, who had, in his
earliest manhood, and immediately after his admission to
Holy Orders, succeeded his father in this interesting charge,
now himself more than fifty years of age, and honoured
with the title of Doctor of Divinity, after a useful and suc-
cessful ministry of thirty-two years, still occupying the post
of his father's duties, and walking in the steps of that good
old man as a faithful and beloved shepherd of Christ's
flock."
CHAPTER III.
Fbom 1809 TO 1814.
The advantages and disadvantages of city and country charges re-
spectively. Dr. Moore's call to St. Stephen's Church, New York. The
state of the Church in that city. Ministry of Dr. Hobarl. The depressed
condition of St. Stephen's when Dr. Moore took charge of it. Its rapid
increase. The active efforts of George Warner, recorded by Bishop
Moore in a letter to his widow. Lecture- room services and prayer meet-
ings. The opinion of Bishop Moore respecting them. Their propriety
discussed. Approval of Nelson, Bishops Claggett and Kemp, and the
present presiding Bishop. Letters on Prayer Meetings and Associations.
Kevivals of Religion and Clerical Associations. Letters to Bishops I\Ieade
and Bowcn on Anxious Seats and Revivals. The course of Dr. Moore in
reference to an unhappy controversy in the Church of New York. A
succinct review of the effect of his ministry in St. Stephen's.
While Dr. Moore was prosecuting that long career of
success and duty which has been imperfectly sketched in
the preceding chapter, the nature and effects of his minis-
try upon the Island were closely watched by multitudes
in the neighbouring city. He enjoyed a high and enviable
reputation for the meekness, benevolence and devotion of
his character; for his bold and uncompromising exhibition
of the great principles of evangelical truth : for faithful-
ness and assiduity in the performance of parochial duties ;
and for a powerful and persuasive eloquence, which rivet-
ed the attention, and moved the hearts of the auditories
he addressed. If there were some who contemplated his
course with an envious and malignant eye, there were
others who gazed on it with admiration, and resolved to
embrace the first opportunity which offered to procure his
MEMOIR OF THE LIFE OF BISHOP MOORE. 71
removal to the city, which was then rapidly rising into im-
portance, and has since become the commercial emporium
of our country.
If a country parish, with its homogeneous society, fixed
character, simple unsophisticated habits, and peaceful
seclusion from the dissipations and vices of fashionable life,
holds out the greater promise of personal comfort and hap-
piness, it must be admitted that the large and crowded city
opens a wider field of usefulness to the able and faithful
minister of Jesus Christ. Large cities are the chosen thea-
tres for the strife of covetousness, the emulation of vanity,
and the struggles of ambition. There are concentrated
pomp, and pride, and luxury. There is to be found every
incentive to passion — every allurement to excess. There
the polluted temples of pleasure throw open their gilded por-
tals, through which multitudes of thoughtless votaries are
lured to eternal ruin. There the din of incessant occupa-
tion, tbp. exciting bustle of traffic, the ever-changing variety
of scenes, combine with the pageantry and vanity of wealth
to distract the attention and wean the thoughts of men from
the great themes of morals and religion. There intempe-
rance, debauchery, and impurity are exhibited in all their
degrees, from decency to loathsomeness. There we behold
an exhibition of all those varieties of profligacy and vice,
which it is the design of the Gospel to eradicate, and which
that divine system alone has the power to restrain and re-
form. There the enemies of our faith are combined in
most formidable numbers; its advocates are required to
grapple with the whole legion of adversaries, and are com-
pelled to be incessantly engaged in close conflict with " the
world, the flesh, and the devil." Is the Gospel to be preach-
ed to sinners? In large cities they are found in the greatest
numbers. Are ministers "fishers of men?" Then, like
72 MEMOIR OF THE
other fishermen, they may more successfully use their nets
where there are shoals of fishes, rather than where only
occasional stragglers are to be found.
But while we thus speak of the wider field of usefulness
which the population of a large city opens to the ministers
of Christ, we are far from believing that every clergyman
should be desirous of a city charge. As in a great house
there are not only different apartments, but different uten-
sils — some of silver and gold, and others of wood, and brass,
and stone — so is it in the Church ; and God, in the wise
economy of his providence and grace, has assigned to his
servants not only various gifts, and tastes, and dispositions,
but also different theatres of usefulness, where they may
serve and glorify him, according to his will, in the exercise
of their various qualifications. Many a servant of God
may rise to high eminence and usefulness in the patient
discharge of his duty as a village or country pastor, who
would sink beneath the weight of discouragement and ne-
glect, if he were exposed to the excitement and cares,
the collisions and rivalries, the trials and disappointments
incident to the charge of our city Churches. Even so, on
the other hand, there are, doubtless, many who are success-
ful pastors and popular preachers in city congregations,
whose powers would be unknown, and their peculiar talents
and capabilities for usefulness would never be brought to
light, if they were required to labour amidst the quiet and
unexciting scenes of a country parish.
The circumstances by which men are surrounded, in the
providence of God, commonly bring into use the various
gifts and qualifications by which He designs that they
should glorify him in the spheres respectively allotted to
them in his Church. Nevertheless, we now and then meet
with a rare instance of one who seems to have risen above
LIFE OF BISHOP MOOHE. 73
the control of circumstances, and by the peculiarity of his
talents, and the adaptation of his character, to be equally
at home before a fashionable or a rustic congregation, and
to be alike fitted for usefulness in any sphere.
Dr. Moore was one of this description. Having accepted
a call to the Rectorship of St. Stephen's Church, in the
dty of New York, in the spring of 1809, he readily adapted
himself to the duties of his new position; and the popularity
which he had acquired upon Staten Island was fully sus-
tained, and even increased, after his removal to the city
of his nativity.
The condition of the Church in New York, at that day,
was very different from what it is at the present time.
The majority of the clergy were, perhaps, more orderly than
zealous — more orthodox than evangelical — more distin-
guished for attachment to the ritual of the Church than
for a fervent and edifying mode of performing it — more in-
tent upon guarding their folds against the inroads of enthu-
siasm than upon (he conversion of sinners and the making
of aggressive movements upon tlie world. This is said with-
out any design to disparage the characters or labours of the
very respectable and worthy men who, as Rectors or As-
sistants, exercised pastoral supervision over the city con-
gregations in that day. The design is merely to remind
the reader of the existence of a calm, temperate, unruffled
state of things among our Churches which would be likely to
undergo some change, and, perhaps, be temporarily dis-
turbed, by the introduction of a minister distinguished for
evangelical boldness, and burning with zeal to promote the
glory of Christ in the conversion of souls. The spirit of Dr.
Moore's ministry, the measures he prosecuted for the spiri-
tual edification of his people, and his style of preaching,
(whether right or wrong, about which there will be various
f2
74 MEMOIR OF THE
opinions.) were undoubtedly different from those most pre-
valent among his clerical brethren in that city. It is true
that Dr. Pilmore, who visited this country as one of the
pioneers of Methodism, (having in early youth been en
trusted by its founder with the oversight of all his societies
in Ireland, and being afterwards selected, on account of his
popular eloquence, to act as missionary in the American
colonies,) had, after taking Episcopal orders, maintained in
Christ Church a course of ministerial duty marked by its
zealous and evangelical character, in which he was fol-
lowed by his worthy successor, also a distinguished convert
from the same sect. It is true that Dr. (afterwards Bishop.)
Hobart, (who for eight preceding years occupied the sta-
tion of an assistant minister in Trinity Church,) had, by his
commanding talents, his habit of memoriter preaching,
(giving to his sermons all the tenderness, pathos and unction
of extemporaneous preaching,) and by his voice of various
intonations and vast compass and power, employed, not in
the delivery of cold, didactic, ethical essays, but of warm
and impassioned appeals to the conscience and the heart,
thrown high attractions about the art of preaching, and
impressed a new character upon the pulpit exercises of
that city. His was a genius which marked out a course
for itself, breaking through the narrow restraints, and soar-
ing above the grovelling axioms of the schools. He felt
that his high duty was to preach, not the morals of Seneca,
but the doctrines of redemption; that his ministry had to do
with the affections no less than with the understandings of
men. And while, unappalled, he was ready to break a
lance with the giant of Presbyterianism, — in his " Apology
for Apostolic Order" — through the press, he could no less
easily maintain his claim to an equality with him as a
preacher of Christ crucified, in the pulpit.
LIFE OF BISHOP MOORE. 75
The ministry of Hobart may be said to have prepared
the way for that of Moore in the city of New York. For
notwithstanding their acknowledged differences of opinion
on certain points, they were alike animated by sincerity
and fervor; the ministry of both was of a stirring and ex-
citing character. They laboured successfully in their dif-
ferent spheres. The one in his refined and wealthy con-
gregation in the heart of the city ; the other with his humbler
flock in its suburbs. Both aimed at the same great results
— the salvation of souls, and the extension of the Church of
God. Whatever might have been the difference in their
views and usages, keeping them sundered for a season ; —
yet in after life, when the mists were dispersed which in-
tercepted and marred their vision of each other's character,
there was a perfect harmony of feeling — an exercise of
mutual confidence and love. Each regarded the other as
a faithful son of the Church at whose common altar they
served. Let their misconceptions of each other be forgotten,
as the fruits of our fallen nature. Let their unity be kept
in perpetual remembrance, as a fruit of that Holy Spirit
by which we are all baptized into one body.
St. Stephen's, at the time Dr. Moore accepted the rector-
ship, offered but few attractions. It presented a forbid-
ding and unpromising field to all except a man of God,
exercising full reliance upon the promises of him who
is able from stones to raise up children unto Abraham, — and
has declared that the word which proceedeth out of his
mouth shall not return unto him void, but shall accomplish
that which he doth please, and shall prosper in the thing
whereto he hath sent it. There were not more than thirty
families connected with the congregation, and out of these
there were but about twenty who knelt as communicants
at the Lord's Table. So discouraging were the circum-
76 MEMOIR OF THE
stances under which Dr. Moore entered upon his new
charge. But he " despised not the day of small things ;"
and the Lord, who had placed him there, gave him such
favour in the eyes of the people, that his congregation
rapidly increased, and his whole ministerial career in New
York was one of uninterrupted prosperity and success.
Soon after his settlement in St. Stephen's, a body of
seventy communicants from one of the sister Churches
transferred themselves to his pastoral care. These were
pious and devoted followers of Jesus Christ, who were in-
tluenced to the adoption of this plan of colonization, not
more by a desire for their own spiritual improvement and
comfort than by an earnest wish to be employed as co-
labourers with him in the edification and enlargement of
the Church of God. At the head of this band of communi-
cants was the late George Warner, Esq. He was a man
of liberal fortune and easy circumstances. Highly esteemed
for his good sense and integrity, he often held a place in
the common council of New York, and more than once was
a representative of the city in the general assembly of the
state. He had a wide circle of acquaintances in which his
inOuence was great, and he was disposed to exert that in-
fluence to the utmost in favour of truth and godliness. A
Qiristian above the ordinary grade, he was not content
with adorning his profession by a decent life of exemplary
virtue, but freely devoted his wealth, and influence, and
personal labours to the cause of piety and the Church.
His religious zeal, bordering upon enthusiasm, perhaps, in
some instances, leapt over its appropriate limits, and was
not duly tempered with discretion. He was not only fond
of extemporaneous prayer in social meetings, but occasional-
ly, in singing a hymn, would supply the defects of memory
by composing a verse or line under the impulse of the
LIFE OF BISHOP MOORE. 77
moment. This good man was never more in his element
than when conducting a prayer meeting ; and in addition
to his activity in visiting the sick and afflicted, there was
scarcely a day in the week when he did not lead the devo-
tions of a praying circle in some section of the city. All
these "society meetings" as they were called, proved so
many fountains of spiritual activity and feeling which
poured their rills into the reservoir of St. Stephen's. Such
a layman, watchful, self-denying, benevolent, burning with
zeal and unwearied in labours, is " a host in himself" — and
it is probable that the efforts of Mr. Warner proved more
efficient, as auxiliary to the work of the rector, than the
services of any curate or assistant minister would have
been. He attached himself to Dr. Moore with all the
intensity of implicit confidence and warm affection. He
was ever ready to sustain him under his burdens, to sympa-
thize with him in his trials, to swell the number of atten-
dants on his ministry, and to employ every means in his
power to secure for that ministry the greatest amount of
efficacy and success.
His affection for his pastor was warmly reciprocated.
Often did Dr. Moore speak with admiration and gratitude
of the unvarying sympathy, and faithful co-operation of his
beloved parishioner, to whose labours and prayers he ac-
knowledged a deep indebtedness for the uncommon success
of his ministry in St. Stephen's. The delightful intercourse
of their kindred minds was often renewed during the
Bishop's annual visits to New York, and ceased not, till his
old friend " rested from his labours by dying in the Lord."
On hearing of this event. Bishop Moore addressed the fol-
lowing letter to Mrs. Warner, in which he declares his high
estimate of the character and services of her departed hus-
band.
78 MEMOIR OF THE
TO MRS. GEORGE WARWER.
January 21st, 1825.
I have seen in the public prints that it hath pleased the
Almighty to remove from the Church militant, to the
Church triumphant in heaven, my much beloved friend,
Mr. Warner. To you, my afflicted friend, and to the re-
ligious community to which he belonged, the loss of his
society and conversation must be inexpressibly great. Much
however as he was beloved by us, we must not suffer his
removal to excite in our minds an unkind thought of Deity;
the good qualities we discovered in him, his devotedness to
the God we love, his unwearied efforts to promote the good
of souls, should convince us of his fitness for the change
through which he has passed : and influence us to prepare
for the same solemn and momentous event. There are
few individuals in society who knew Mr. Warner more
perfectly than myself. For five years he was my affection-
ate companion and kind parishioner. We took sweet
counsel together, and went into the house of God as friends.
I can say with truth that our intimacy never for one
moment experienced interruption. And while I live I shall
remember him with affection, and thank God for the encour-
agement he gave me in the work of the ministry. I have
always thought that much of the success which attended
my labours at St. Stephen's, was owing to the efforts of my
departed friend. His prayers and his influence were united
with my exertions ; our hearts were fixed upon the same
object, the good of Zion, and the Lord prospered the work
of our hands upon us. He has reaped, I trust and believe,
that rich reward promised to the faithful, and may God in
infinite mercy in his own time invest us also with the crown
IIPE OF BISHOP MOOHE. 79
of eternal life. In the course of five years the number of
communicants increased from about twenty, to four hundred.
Pleased and delighted as was my soul at the prosperity of
Zion, still I am fully of opinion that his pleasure and delight
was equal to my own. We would walk from one end of
the city to the other, visiting the sick, praying with the
aflflicted, and exhorting those in health to seek the Lord,
and never did I hear him say he was fatigued. When
indisposed myself, and under these circumstances incapable
of visiting the children of sorrow, I would send the appli-
cant to George Warner, and satisfied myself that the ob-
ject would be as fully answered, as if I had attended in
person. He heard me deliver my last sermon in Christ
Church, and escorted me to my brother's house — we then
shook hands with all the warmth of friendship, and parted
in this world, alas ! forever. Were I near you, my afilicted
sister, I would endeavour to console you w^ith a relation of
a thousand of his virtues. Should we never meet in this
vale of tears, I trust we shall meet in a better world, and
again see those pious friends, from whom God in his provi-
dence hath separated us. May God be your refuge, and un-
derneath you may he place the everlasting arms of his love.
With every sentiment of Christian affection,
Believe me in truth, your sincere friend,
Richard Channino Moore.
Thoroughly grounded in the affections of his parishioners,
favoured with the confidence of the Christian community
in New York, and as a preacher, attractive to many of the
strangers who resorted to the city, Dr. Moore, " through
evil as well as through good report," pursued the even tenor
of his way, as a faithful ambassador of the cross, and was
diligently engaged, " in season and out of season," in labour-
MEMOIR OF THE
ing for the conversion of sinners and the edification of be-
lievers. Some made him the object of their reproach ;
others of ridicule and scorn ; but whether it were his lot to
encounter the bold opposition of the world, — or the more
secret, but not less bitter censures of false brethren, " none
of these things moved him," while assured that he was
doing his Master's work, and enjoying his Master's bless-
ing. Never was there a stronger example given of a la-
borious and successful ministry. In addition to three full
services in the church on the Lord's day, he was in the
habit of holding two or more lectures in the week at school
houses. He imitated those Apostles who " daily in the tem-
ple, and in every house, ceased not to teach and preach
Jesus Christ."
It was about the year 1811, in the days of his boyhood,
that the writer of this memoir was so favoured as to be in-
troduced to the friendly regards of Dr. Moore. Gratefully
do I remember the deep interest he manifested in my spi-
ritual growth and welfare as a youthful disciple of Christ,
and the paternal tenderness with which he cherished and
encouraged my trembling desire to devote myself to the
ministry of the Gospel. During my occasional visits to
New York, previous to my ordination, it was my delight to
be found among the worshippers who, on the Lord's day,
crowded to St. Stephen's, to offer their devotions and hear
the gospel preached in purity and power. On one occa-
sion I accompanied my venerated friend to one of his week
night services in a school-house ; and what was my sur-
prise to observe a large audience, under the power of truth,
melted into tears ! At the close of the service, many of
them gathered around their beloved pastor to lay open the
sorrows of their sin-stricken hearts, and inquire what they
must do to be saved ! Never shall I forget a remark he
LIFE OF BISHOP MOORE. 81
made to me at that time in answer to an inquiry respect-
ing the propriety and usefulness of such meetings, about
which there was and is a diversity of opinion in our church.
I shall never forget it, because it has had its influence upon
the whole course of my ministry, and its wisdom and truth
have been fully confirmed by my own experience. The
remark was substantially as follows: — " I encounter much
reproach and opposition from some of my brethren on ac-
count of these meetings. But they are neither inconsistent
with the principles, nor prohibited by the canons, of the
Church. And, although some condemn them as irregular
and methodistical, I cannot, as a minister of Christ, desi-
rous of the salvation of souls, give them up. For I know
that God's blessing is upon them. They are the nurseries
of my communiorJ''
How great the change which has taken place since that
time ! Now, in our cities and towns, a lecture room is
thought to be almost a necessary appendage to a Church.
The holding of weekly lectures may now be considered as
the rule, the omission of them as the exception.
At the period of which we write there were very few
of the Episcopal clergy in the United States who ever held
any other services than the public worship of the Church
on the Lord's day and some of the greater festivals. The
few who held lectures and prayer-meetings in unconse-
crated places, were viewed with an eye of suspicion, and
were subject to evil report as being regardless of rubrics
and canons, if not utterly disaflfected towards the worship
and principles of the Church at whose altars they served.
So decided and strong was the opposition to the rector of St.
Stephen's on this score, that " he was compelled to throw
himself under the protection of Bishop Benjamin Moore,
82 MEMOIR OF THE
then the acting Bishop of New York, and said to him, ' if you
will take the responsibihty of saying I shall have no prayer-
meetings, I will give them up.' The Bishop replied, ' Sir,
I will do no such thing.' 'Then Sir,' said Dr. Moore,
' neither will I.' And from that time he continued his meet-
ings with much less difficulty."* This interview was very
similar, in its nature and result, to one which took place
between the writer, soon after his appointment to the rec-
torship of St. Ann's Church, Brooklyn, and the late Bishop
Hobart. The Bishop was well known to be unfavourable
to what are called prayer-meetings, and fearing that there
would he an attempt to force them into the congregation
at Brooklyn, sought an interview with the Rector, in which
he expressed his apprehensions on the subject. He was
assured that no design was entertained to impose such ex-
tra services upon the people contrary to their wishes — and
this question was proposed to him : " If any portion of the
congregation shall desire voluntarily to meet during the
week for prayer and other religious services, do you think
it would be my duty, as a minister of Jesus Christ, to pro-
hibit or discourage it ?" To which the Bishop, in his em-
phatic manner replied, *'God forbid!" Notwithstanding
the diversity of opinion between them as to the utility of
the extra services referred to, he always treated that young
rector with the utmost courtesy and kindness, never found
fault with his parochial arrangements, and, in the ser-
mon preached when he admitted him to the priesthood,
spoke in too flattering terms of his past ministry in the
Church, not excepting his social lectures or prayer meet-
ings.
That the opinions of Dr. Moore, in relation to the meet-
♦ Rev. Dr. Tjng, in Christian Keepsake for 1810.
LIFE OF BISHOP MOOEE. 83
ings in question, underwent no innportant change after his
elevation to the episcopate and removal to another sphere
of duty, will be manifest from the following letter, address-
ed to one of his clergy in the year 1823.
TO THE REV. MR. , 0^ SOCIAL MEETINGS FOR PRAYER.
Richmond, Jan. 13th, 1823.
Rev. and Dear Sir, — The canons require that before all
sermons and lectures the form of prayer should be used,
but I do not recollect any statute against what you call
prayer-meetings. Should ten, twenty, or fifty of your peo-
ple choose to meet at a private house, and be disposed to
sing a psalm, or hymn, and unite in extempore prayer,
there is certainly no canon to forbid it. Is it not better
that they should thus pass their time than to waste it in
common conversation ? Nay, if a clergyman knows that
such is their disposition and desire, would it not be improper
in him to oppose it ? The church has ordained services to
be used in public, but certainly the Church does not mean
to prevent her members from praying without form in pri-
vate. I have seen good effects to arise from such pious
assemblies of neighbours, and, so far from opposing it, I
would encourage it, especially if the people wish it. The
only fear to be apprehended is enthusiasm, but, under the
direction and control of a judicious minister, that evil may
be avoided, U 1 was so situated as to be convinced of its
utility in a country parish, / would keep the reins in my
own hands, and give it my countenance. Prayer, if sin-
cere, ought to be encouraged, and I think I can say with
truth, that I have seen the greatest benefit flow from the
practice. When I say that I would keep the reins in my
84 MEMOIR OF THE
own hands, I mean that it should be done, if done at all,
under my patronage. I would form the plan, and give it
ray support. The people thus seeing their minister dis-
posed to afford them his countenance, instead of conceiving
a dislike to our inimitable forms would become attached to
them, and by an indulgence in private, would advocate
them in public. When i lived at the North, my people
were ardently attached to the service of the Church ; an
attachment which in many instances grew out of the in-
dulgence I gave them in private. If the clergy are con-
sistent in their public duties, and adhere to the Rubric
strictly ; if they preserve their distinctive character, and
yield no points in the discharge of their stated services, I
think that there can be little fear of injuring the Church,
by permitting their people to meet at each other's houses,
and pray to God without a form. I have found it neces-
sary to caution some upon this subject, because I have
discovered that they have yielded every thing; even by
leaving their congregations and services, and improperly ex-
changing with dissenters ; nay, one person acknowledged
that he had united in the sacrament and thought it right
so to do. When I am writing to you, I consider myself as
addressing a sound Churchman ; I have, therefore, no fear
that you will yield too much. I have the most perfect con-
fidence in your judgment, and would wish you to do what
you think is proper, guarding, how-ever, your public duties,
and thus evincing your attachment to the Liturgy.
Believe me, dear Sir,
Yours, &.C. &c.
Richard Channing Moore.
To the last year of his life Bishop Moore continued to par-
ticipate in such services with a degree of zeal and enjoy-
LIFE OF BISHOP MOORE. 85
ment uncommon for one of his advanced age, and equal to
that which he had experienced at any earher period of his
ministry. Even his mitred and hoary head afforded him
no protection against reproach upon this account. It will be
seen, however, from the following extract of a letter to a
clerical friend, that he not only bore it meekly and unmoved,
but was even stimulated by it to greater energy and fer-
vour in the service of the Lord.
March, 22n(], 1832.
" So far am I, my beloved sir, from regretting any of our
proceedings at our Association last summer, that I am re-
joiced we proceeded as we did. Much good at the time
was done; it \vould therefore be sinful to regret the means
we honestly made use of, and which appeared to be pre-
eminently blessed. I am the last man who would inten-
tionally offend any person; but if, in the faithful discharge
of my duty, people will be offended, although 1 would
lament the circumstance, and grieve at their mistake, still
I would patiently and steadily persevere. I have reached
a period of life in which T have a right to an opinion; and
as a clergyman of near half a century, I do think that
opinion is entitled to some consideration ; and in cases in
which laymen differ from me, as it regards measures, they
ought to remember that there is more reason for them to
think I may be right, than that they are right, and that
I am positively wrong. I do not presume to blame them,
and only ask in return that they will not blame me. I
sincerely hope that the precious Redeemer may be with us
at our approaching meeting. I do pray that he will mani-
fest his saving power in the conversion of sinners, and in
building up believers in the faith of the Gospel. I do pray
that my health may be preserved ; that my heart may be
G 2
86 MEMOIR OF THE
warmed by his grace ; and that I may preach in demon-
stration of the spirit, and of the truth as it is in Christ
Jesus. I do pray that Satan's kingdom may receive a
shock from which it may never recover, and the will of
God may be done on earth as it is in heaven ; and 1 do
pray also, that all the clergy who may be present, may be
blessed with a double portion of the Holy Spirit, and that
our united labours may eventuate in the promotion of that
cause committed to our charge. To these supplications,
my brethren in Alexandria must not rest satisfied with
saying amen ! but to that amen I entreat them to add their
most fervent and sincere supplications to Almighty God, and
call upon the pious members of both congregations to unite in
prayer for the same purpose. God has promised that if we
ask we shall have ; and as his promises are yea and amen in
Christ Jesus, we have a right to believe our joint supplications
will be heard, and such blessings poured down upon us as
will rejoice our hearts and strengthen our hands. When
you see the clergy, I will thank you to remember me to
them in much ailection: and with love to your companions,
believe me, Rev. and dear sir,
Your sincere friend and father in Christ Jesus,
R. C. MOORK."
Surely none can read this extract, glowing with zeal for
Christ and the salvation of souls, and not exclaim, " This
is the very spirit of the Gospel ! If all our Bishops and
clergy were thoroughly imbued with such a spirit, the
Church would soon shake herself from the dust and shine
forth in all the beauty of holiness."
The question relating to Lecture-room Services, by which
our communion was at one time seriously agitated, at this
time excites comparatively little feeling, and less contcn-
LIFE OF BISHOP MOORE. 87
tion. The advance of evangelical truth and godliness, con-
nected with the extension of our borders, has afforded con-
stantly increasing evidence of the utility of such services;
and in their extensive adoption by the Bishops and clergy,
the Church may be said to have given its suffrage in their
favour.
With regard to the mode of conducting such services,
there is, and there may properly be, a difference of opinion
among their advocates. Some believe themselves obligated
to use the whole morning or evening prayer precisely as
they would in the church. Others believe themselves to be
at liberty to select a service for such social assemblies, just
as they do for Sunday Schools and Bible Classes — that ser-
vice consisting of the Litany, (which is a perfect act of
social devotion in itself,) or of the prayers in the daily ser-
vice — there being a compliance with the requisition of the
canon, that before Sermons and Lectures no prayers shall
be used except those set forth in the Book of Common
Prayer. A chapter from the Bible is read, and a Lec-
ture founded upon it, or an exhortation, delivered by the
officiating minister, who closes the services with a short
extempore prayer and the benediction. There are some
few clergymen who occasionally request some pious and
discreet layman to lead in prayer at the close of the meet-
ing. In some of our congregations, the Sunday-school
Teachers, and others piously disposed, meet by themselves
alone, or under the direction of their minister, for social
prayer and conference.
It is of the Lecture-room Services, conducted by the
minister alone, that the writer deems it necessary to speak ;
because these alone are the services which so extensively
prevail " through evil and good report" in the Episcopal
Church. They are substantially such services as are com-
88 MEMOIE OF THE
mended by the pious Nelsox, in the preface to his work on
the Festivals and Fasts, with this difference, that the re-
ligious societies of which he speaks were composed of lay-
men, who prayed with and exhorted each other without
the presence of a clergyman. Of these Nelson says : " 1
cannot apprehend but that they must be very serviceable
to the interests of religion, and may contribute very much
to revive that true spirit of Christianity which was so much
the glory of primitive times. . . And for those objections
which are urged against these societies from some canons
of the Church, they seem to be founded upon a misunder-
standing of the sense of those canons."
Lecture-room services, if properly conducted, " the minis-
ter," as Bishop Moore expressed it, " keeping the reins
in his own hands" — giving precedence and pre-eminence to
the services of the Church — will tend to increase rather
than lessen the attachment of the people to the Prayer
Book. Social religious meetings, (holding an intermediate
rank between the public worship of the Church and
family worship,) but far more liable to abuse than those now
advocated, have received the approbation and sanction of
some of our Bishops who prided themselves upon their
rigid attachment to the forms and usages of the Church.
The following will suffice as an evidence of it. The con-
vention of the Church in Maryland many years ago adopted
the following resolution : "Resolved, that it be recommended,
and it is hereby recommended, to the ministers of this
Church on the Western and Eastern shores, to meet in
voluntaYy associations on their respective shores three times
in every year; that they labour at these meetings, by fre-
quent and earnest preaching and prayer, to awaken people
to a more lively sense of the important concerns of religion ;
encourage themselves to a more ardent zeal in the work of
LIFE OF BISHOP MOORE.
their holy calling ; and form such rules for their government
at those associations, as to them may appear expedient :
provided nothing be ordained contrary to the discipline of
the Church." To effect these objects the following rules
were agreed to : " The members shall recommend to their
several congregations to establish among themselves a
society or societies for catechizing and preparing the can-
didates for confirmation, for religious discourse, prayer,
and singing, to meet once a week, or a fortnight, as may
best suit their avocations and engagements. That each
member shall select out of his congregation a small
number of persons who shall be communicants remarka-
ble for experience, prudence, humility, and zeal, to act
as a stated council for promoting religion in the said
societies ; one of whom, at least, shall attend, to prevent
enthusiastic heats, or light, trifling, or worldly conversation
in them."
June 14,1816.
" We approve of this plan and will be happy to find it
carried into operation.
Thomas John Claggett,
James Kemp."
But notwithstanding long experience of the Church, both
in England and this country, has proved the usefulness to
the cause of religion of such social services as we now speak
of, yet there are some among us who think it safer for the
Church to dispense with them, and do not in their con-
sciences approve of them. We hope the time may come
when there shall be perfect unanimity of sentiment among
us on this, as well as all other points which affect the in-
terests of the Church and the great work which her Lord
90 MEMOIR OF THE
has given her to do in the world. In the meantime, " let
brotherly love continue." Let us cultivate " things which
make for peace, and things wherewith one may edify
another."
To indulge in crimination and recrimination has no tend-
ency to advance the cause of truth or charity. And while
the advocates of lecture-room services and prayer meetings
should abstain from all severe condemnation of those who
see fit not to adopt them ; those who disapprove of them
should be careful how they question the integrity and
orthodoxy of those who indulge a liberty which they con-
scientiously believe the Church has allowed : they should
inquire " what manner of spirit they are of," before they
flippantly talk of a violation of ordination vows and a want
of Church principles, as involved in a practice sanctioned by
the usage of a large body of the most active and devoted of
our clergy, and by that of perhaps a majority of our present
house of Bishops.
Our remarks upon this point have been extended beyond
our design, not only because we deem it of vital importance
to the welfare of the Church that the liberty hitherto
allowed in this particular should be preserved unimpaired,
in conformity with the liberal spirit of her institutions, but
also with a view of protecting the memory of a departed
father in the Church from the reproaches of some of her
thoughtless sons.
The following wise counsels of our venerable presiding
Bishop, inculcating mutual forbearance and brotherly
love, if duly heeded, could not Aiil to exert a salutary
influence upon the Church. Like every thing which falls
from his patriarchal pen (as the result of deep reflection,
extensive observation, and long-tried principles,) they
deserve to be treasured up in our memories and our hearts,
LIFE OF BISHOP 3I00RE. 91
to be frequently pondered as the advice'of rare judgment,
unquestioned prudence, and fervent piety.
" The most candid of those who are opposed to prayer-
meetings, admit that this subject is ' a question of expe-
diency.' That God's word forbids such meetings, no one
probably will venture to affirm. That the Church forbids
them, no one has been able to show. And should she dis-
approve, nothing hinders that she should forbid them. And
if it be, as certainly it is, a question of expediency, what
judges can be more fit or competent to decide the question
than our parochial clergy, each in his own parish 1 Any
clergyman who is incapable of judging in this case, cannot
be qualified for the pastoral charge. Supposing that they
are so qualified, and their being continued in that office is
a proof that they are so esteemed, and to their decision we
may safely leave the question. They best know, each one
in his own parish, what the people need, and what means
and eflforts it pleases God to bless among them.
" There is reason to fear that some write and speak
against these meetings more from prejudice than knowledge.
They who have not attended them can be no better qualified
to judge of their use, than they who have not attended our
public worship, to judge of our Liturgy. By the latter we
are told, and they endeavour to prove, that our printed
prayers produce of course a lifeless formality ; by the for-
mer, that prayer meetings are productive of spiritual pride
and many evils. They both can urge very plausible rea-
sons : but we, who judge from long and decided experience,
are convinced that both are mistaken. In either case
hese evils may be, and in too many instances, no doubt,
have been produced ; but they are no less the necessary
consequence in the one case than in the other. If they
who frequent our solemn assemblies, and devoutly use our
92 MEMOIE OF THE
service, find it lifeless and unsatisfying to a pious mind, they
may with better reason condemn its use. And they, who
attend the prayer meetings, and find in them no religious
improvement, may well forsake them. And if it be a
known fact and generally true that they who frequent
those meetings, are less pious, and less humble than other
Christians; if they are more worldly, and vain, and wicked;
if they are not so constant nor so devout at Church ; if they
are less given to prayer, and often absent from the Lord's
table; if they are less regardful of the godly admonitions
of their spiritual rulers ; if they are not so constant in fami-
ly prayer, and generally not so good Christians, this
certainly is some good proof that the meetings are of evil
tendency'; and till this be proved, with what truth or
justice is it affirmed that experience has shown them to
be of evil tendency ? If meetings of the like nature in
other parts have produced bad effects, we are not an-
swerable. After long experience, we have not, to the
Lord's praise be it said, discovered any of those bad effects
which some of our brethren apprehend. A regard for the
Prayer-book has not, in any degree, been diminished but
the contrary: it is the full belief of the present writer, that
in no one of the United States are the Rubrics and canons
of the Church better observed than in Rhode Island. If
others make an ill use of the ordinance of preaching, or of
the celebration of Christmas, or of conference meetings, let
those who are disposed and accustomed to make a good use
of the same things, enjoy their privileges quietly and with-
out reproach. A large part of our communicants in this
state do not attend the meetings ; and for this I have never
heard them blamed. If they spend their evenings better,
we rejoice and bless God. Happy would it be did all
observe the most excellent rule of charity given in the
LIFE OF BISHOP MOOKE. 93
14th diapter of the Romans. Then he that regardeth the
day, would regard it unto the Lord ; and he that regardeth
not the day, to the Lord he would not regard it : — he
would neither presume nor desire to judge another man's
servant^ but to his own master let him stand or fall.
The evil most to be feared, and most prevalent among us,
is lukewarmness. With shame must we acknowledge that
we incline to be cold rather than hot. Enthusiasm is as
rare in our Churches as a scorching sun in a northern win-
ter : the mercury of our zeal is constantly below the
degree of temperate.''''*
There seems to be a natural and established connexion
between clerical associations, social devotional meetings,
and revivals of religion ; and whenever opposition to either
or all of them exists on the part of pious clergymen and
laymen, we believe it arises from the want of adequate ex-
perience and observation in the premises. Good men con-
tract prejudices against measures and means of doing good,
of which they know nothing but from hearsay : whereas, if
they could be persuaded to acquire that accurate knowl-
edge of their character and effects, which can be obtained
only by personal observation and participation, not only
would their prejudices against the measures in question be
removed, but they would themselves become their most
decided friends and active promoters. Many of our clergy,
not trained up under the influences of the Church, having
known social lectures and prayer meetings to be abused to
the purposes of fanaticism in the denominations from which
they came, and not duly estimating the conservative power
of Church institutions and principles, suppose that services;
amongst us bearing the like name, would necessarily be
* Bishop Griswold on Prayer meetings.
94 MEMOIR OF THE
followed with the like results. Even so there are jriany^
who, having witnessed or heard of, those disorganizing,
tumultuous excitements, which, gotten up and sustained by
human machinery of questionable propriety — spread like
wildfire through a community, destroying good fruits, rather
than producing them — but dignified with the name of re-
vivals, — look with sentiments of distrust or aversion upon
any state of things in the Church to which the same name
is applied, though it be essentially different in its nature
and results.
But as when we speak of a lecture-room service or a
prayer meeting in the Episcopal Church, we mean an
orderly assembly in which the service of the Church is
treated with due respect, and the exercises are wholly con-
ducted or controlled by the clergy ; even so when we speak
of a " revival" in the Episcopal Church, we mean a season
of more than usual interest in the subject of religion, pro-
duced by the special influence of the Holy Spirit giving
efficacy to the ordinary means of grace — such as faithful
preaching of the word and fervent prayer. The result is
that the graces and virtues of the devout are revived and
strengthened ; an unwonted depth of solemnity and feeling
exists in the congregation at large, and within a short time,
many sinners are converted from the error of their ways,
who *' profess the faith of Christ crucified" in Baptism or
Confirmation, and, by participating in the Lord's Supper,
become united to the communion of the faithful.
These " times of refreshing from the presence of the
Lord," — these vernal seasons o( g^race, may be expected to
occur in those congregations, where the faithful preaching
of the clergy is accompanied with the frequent and fervent
prayers of the people. With such seasons Dr. Moore was
favoured during his ministry on Staten Island : such seasons
LIFE OF BISHOP MOORE. 95
he rejoiced to witness, more than once, during his ministry
in St. Stephen's. He preached the Gospel there amidst
the effusions of the Holy Ghost sent down from heaven.
The blessing came in fulfilment of the promise, " ask and
ye shall receive." Often was the heart of the preacher
cheered, before commencing the service, by the entrance of
his friend Warner, who had come from the prayer meeting
to the vestry-room — and, with a countenance beaming with
joy, exclaimed, " my dear pastor, I am persuaded that your
labours will be attended with a blessing to-day, for we
have had great freedom in praying for you this morning !"
Never, perhaps, did he administer the Lord's Supper in
that Church without having some new communicants ; but
there were times when many were at once " added unto
the Lord." The great blessing of God which so often ac-
companied the labours of Dr. Moore, rendering them in-
strumental in the conversion of multitudes, necessarily
made him the friend and advocate of " revivals of religion,"
in the sober and rational meaning of that phrase. He was,
however, no friend to any religious excitement inconsistent
with the decent order and staid character of the Church,
He looked with suspicion and displeasure upon those " new
measures" which certain travelling evangelists of other
denominations have represented to be indispensably neces-
sary to the " getting up of a revival." He viewed the
''anxious benches," — the calling upon those who were
willing to go to heaven to rise — the putting it to vote
whether a congregation were desirous to be saved — and all
parts of the modern machinery of Pelagianism, so exten-
sively employed in some places to subserve the ends of
fanaticism, as not only dishonourable to religion, and de-
lusive in their tendency, but also chargeable with impiety,
in preferring human inventions to the divinely instituted
MEMOIR OF THE
means of grace. It will be gratifying to the reader to
peruse the Bishop's sentinnents on these interesting topics,
as expressed in the following extracts from his corres-
pondence.
As a suitable introduction to the extracts, we give the
following brief paragraph from Dr. Hawks' history of the
Church in Virginia.
"It is not wonderful that in the retrospect of the facts
we have here related,* the Bishop should entertain an
opinion, best expressed in his own words, that, ' although
w-e have the promise of heaven to be always present with
the Church, still there are particular seasons in which the
Almighty displays his power in a manner so overwhelming
as to command the attention of his rational creatures; to
dispel that coldness which makes them indifferent to the
calls of duty ; to excite their gratitude to God for his mer-
cies ; to melt obdurate offenders into contrition, and to
oblige them to sue for forgiveness at the throne of grace.'
Nor is it matter of surprise that the good Bishop should be
led by this incident in his own religious experience, often
to impress, as he does, especially upon the younger clergy,
the duty, at seasons in which the Almighty manifests his
presence in a more than ordinary way, gladly to avail
themselves of such propitious times to put forth redoubled
efforts in their Master's cause."
The following letter to Dr. (afterwards Bishop) Meade,
was probably occasioned by a fear that some of the clergy
of Virginia, misled by the reports of the success attendant
upon the use of the " new measures" among other denomi-
nations, might be induced to resort to them. But between
* The remarkable scene attending the three consecutive sermons on
Staten Island.
LIFE OF BISHOP 3I00RE. 97
the writer of the letter and him to whom it was addressed
there was a perfect agreement of opinion on the points of
which it treats.
TO DR. MEADE, (AFTERWARDS BISHOP.)
Nov. 20th, 1828.
Rev. and Dear Sir, — I am confident that your mind
would revolt at every thing like management in the con-
'cerns of religion. I have been acquainted for many years,
with what I have seen in some other societies, and what
1 have been obliged to call by that name; and I confess my
heart has been pained at the picture which at times has
been presented to my view. If Christianity is a system
founded on truth, the work of grace must be God's work ;
and I cannot believe that the Almighty stands in need of
the cunning craftiness of man to promote his designs. I
once told a presiding elder, that I observed in their exer-
cises what 1 considered unlawful. He replied that the
effect was visible ; to which I rejoined, that the end could
not justify improper means. Upon which he left me in a pet.
I cannot think that the Spirit of God can be brought into
operation by human management. In striving for the
mastery, we must strive lawfully ; we must use the means
God has appointed ; prayer, reading the Scriptures, and
the faithful preaching of the Gospel, constitute the ordi-
nances of heaven for the conversion of sinners; and where
this is done in sincerity of heart, that effect will be pro-
duced, which in the wisdom of God he may think proper.
If we wish to see the work of grace prosper in our hands,
and a lasting and permanent effect produced, we must ob-
serve order and decency in our worship. A momentary
influence may be effected, by measures pursued by some
h2
98 MEMOIR OF THE
other societies; but how often do we see those whose pas-
sions have been excited, and who have attempted to build
without counting the cost, relapse into former indiscretions,
and show that the work was that of man and not of God.
We have to do with people whose minds have been informed
by reading, and who would fly from us with disgust, were
we to permit feeling to take place of reason, or to use any
means other than those prescribed by Scripture. A morbid
appetite is by no means an uncommon thing in religious
concerns. As judicious physicians, we cannot consistently
with duty apply such things as would increase it, but, on
the contrary, should administer the wholesome and rational
remedies presented by the Lord Jesus Christ. Indeed, I
have thought that there is great impropriety in attempting
to iirvite the Spirit of God to descend upon the people in
any other way than Scripture has authorized. That we
are too cold is a solemn truth. To remedy this evil is in
our power, provided we will seek the aid of God's Holy
Spirit, in sincere and fervent prayer; and I am persuaded
that if we hoxestly call upon God to assist us with his grace,
and honestly preach his own word, he will make that
word quick and powerful to the conversion of those who
hear it. Can wo suppose that the Almighty stands in need
of the arts of man to further his designs ? " lie will work,
and who shall let it." Let us, then, be faithful and indus-
^ trious, and we will see the work of the Lord prosper in
our hands. Call into exercise your own experience, and
that experience will tell you that when in private prayer,
you would not think of invoking God's blessing in any other
way than in sincere and fervent supplication, i^ou would
make use of no art; on the contrary, you would fly from it
with abhorrence, lest your devotions should excite the dis-
pleasure of that Being whom you addressed. Why, then,
should we attempt in public what we should shrink from
LIFE OF BISHOP MOORE. 99
doing in private? Direct your attention to the state of
things in this diocese when you first entered the ministry.
Could you, at that dreary hour, have promised yourself the
success with which a merciful God has blessed us? Did
you expect to see, in fifteen or sixteen years, upwards
of fifty churches built and repaired? Did you expect
to see, instead of three or four men to help you, fifty
clergymen disposed to do their duty ? Would you not,
at the moment of your ordination, have been willing to have
compromised for such an enlargement of our Zion as you
now witness? Had the Almighty promised you that we
should have a Seminary for the instruction of our youth,
of so flattering a description as that with which we are
now favoured, would you not have called on all the powers
of your soul to bless his Holy Name ? God has hitherto
blessed us: let us redouble our diligence, and not be led to
choose some other way, lest he should withdraw from us
in displeasure, and leave us in our own hands. I love the
spirit of zeal which you manifest ; old as I am, I feel some
of it myself, and will cordially unite with you in prayer to
God to warm our hearts, to strengthen our hands, and to
direct us by his counsel. I remember when you first in-
vited me to remove to Virginia, and when Wilmer and
Norris wished me to visit the diocese, that good old George
Warner, of New York, entreated me not to stir a single
step ; if the Lord wishes you to settle there, (he observed,)
he will make the way clear before you ; if you attempt to
take the measure in your own hands, he will be displeased.
I have written a long letter, because the subject called for
it; should you consider me wrong in my views, 1 am open
to conviction, and will thank you for a full expression of
your heart. Love to Mrs. .
Your sincere friend,
R. C. M.
100 MEMOIR OF THE
TO THE SAME, ON " ANXIOUS SEATS.
"There is one disadvantage, in my opinion, inevitably
resulting from all attempts to produce undue excitement
by extraordinary measures, and that is this : people are
led to suppose that there is no real religion without it, and
therefore disrelish all services which are sober and rational,
and brand those who do not think as they do, with indif-
ference to religion. This I call a morbid appetite ; an
appetite which is not reasonable, and which leads men to
place more reliance on their own measures, than those
measures deserve, and less on that Spirit which quickeneth
and giveth life to the sinner. As far as I am acquainted
with religion, one of its first operations on the mind is that
of great humility; we feel that we are sinners — that im-
pression makes us very humble. Now, an humble Chris-
tian is, in general, so doubtful of himself, that instead of
rushing into the first seat, he naturally prefers a less con-
spicuous place. Why the prayers of the minister could
not be heard unless the anxious occupied a particular seat
I cannot understand ; the Publican, I recollect, stood afar
off, and yet his modest and sincere petition was heard;
while the Pharisee went empty away. I have always
been charged with a leaning towards too much religious
feeling. I love feeling in religion; nay, I will say that
there can be no true religion without it; but then I like
to see THAT feeling produced by a faithful disclosure of
evangelical truth ; by preaching Christ as the power and
wisdom of God ; by leading men to the Saviour for life, free
from every thing that looks like management or human
contrivance. In your last letter you lament that our
Clerical Associations are not more attended to. Of this I
LIFE OF BISHOP MOORE. 101
am as sorry as any man can be, knowing, from experience,
that the people will attend more generally on such occa-
sions than on the stated services of an individual. I wish
that' the brethren would take that measure into considera-
tion ; and I am sure, if they would, that the services of the
Church, and the preaching of our own estimable clergymen
thus assembled, would be productive of the greatest and
best effects."
TO BISHOP BOWEN. REVIVALS — ANXIOUS SEATS.
June 13th, 1832.
" I am sorry that causes should exist in your department
of the Church calculated to produce disquietude of mind,
or to excite the least uneasiness in your bosom. Individuals
placed in the situations we occupy cannot (amidst the va-
riety of opinions which prevail on the subject of what are
called revivals,) expect to escape, without meeting with
some things opposed to our immediate views, and which,
under all circumstances, we cannot perfectly approve. In
such instances, my attention has been invariably directed
to what my judgment convinced me would be the ultimate
results ; and in all cases my dependence has been placed
on the influence of persuasive expedients, keeping the su-
preme management in my own hands, and uniting with the
clergy and people in the use of such lawful means as I
thought calculated to secure the unity and welfare of the
Church, and to satisfy them that I have at heart the inte-
rests of vital religion, and am as much disposed to promote
the advancement of true piety as themselves.
" To further the above important objects, I have recom-
mended Clerical Associations, on which occasions the clergy
most contiguous to each other meet together, and hold re-
102 MEMOIR OF THE
gular services in the parish in which they convene. They
in general commence on Thursday, and finish their united
duties on the succeeding Sunday, when, after the celebra-
tion of the Lord's Supper, they separate. The services are
confined exclusively to the clergy of the Church, and the
duties are performed by themselves. If the association is
held within a reasonable distance I sometimes attend, and
always bear as great a portion of the labour as my age and
strength will admit of. Such an association will commence
to-morrow in , the residence of the Rev. ,
who is fully of opinion that such meetings are useful, and
expedient, and calculated to produce the best possible ef-
fects to religion and the Church, indeed such is the opinion
of all the clergy of the diocese. I never hesitate to ex-
press my aversion to every thing like human management
on such occasions. I think it profane to suppose that the
aid of the Holy Spirit can be secured in any other way
than in the use of the appointed means of grace, and be-
lieve that the faithful preaching of the Gospel, preceded by
our own services, constitute those means. I am opposed,
totally opposed, to ' anxious or enquiring benches' as they
are called, and think that humble penitents would prefer a
private intercourse with their Maker and their own pastor,
to an exposure of themselves to public view.
*' With respect to revivals, as they are termed, I would,
as an old man, observe : that every Christian clergyman
must be sensible, that there are seasons in which his reli-
gious affections are more animated than at other times, and
that if this superior animation should influence the minds
of his parishioners as well as his own, it is his duty to im-
prove the opportunity by an increased faithfulness and zeal
in the service of God. It is by such a course that he be-
comes (in my opinion) a co-worker with his Maker and Re-
LIFE OF BISHOP MOORE. 103
deemer, and discovers his wish to further and promote that
good work, which he has reason to believe has been begun
by that gracious being in whose service he is engaged. In-
dividuals, feeling impressed with the necessity of loving God
with all their heart, soul, mind, and strength, do not like,
and will not consent to have their desires, (desires which
they conceive owe their origin to divine influence,) restrain-
ed, controlled, and spoken into silence by their fellow mor-
tals. They would tell us that the three thousand at the
feast of Pentecost were in earnest when they inquired,
' Men and brethren what shall we do V That the Philip-
pian jailor felt the weight of his responsibility, when, in
distress of mind, he solicited for spiritual direction; that
Mary was engaged, with all the energies of her mind, in seek-
ing the salvation of her soul, when she sat, bathed in tears
of penitence at the feet of her Redeemer ; they would tell
us, that divine grace is, in its operations at this moment,
(what it has ever been,) convincing us of sin, producing a
repentance to salvation not to be repented of, influencing
those to ask for mercy in sincere prayer, who never truly
valued the privilege of prayer before, and rendering those
who were cold and heartless in the cause of religion, alive
to its concerns, and giving rise to a newness of life and con-
versation. Individuals who have been virtuously brought
up from their infancy, and who have been preserved from
those departures from moral and religious duty which cha-
racterize the greater part of mankind ; who have been
accustomed daily from their childhood to ask the protection
of heaven ; who have loved the Saviour from the first dawn-
ings of intellect, can form no proper idea of the convictions
of those who have wandered far from God, who have pro-
faned his name, his Sabbath, and his laws, without being
alive to their awful condition ; they can form no idea of
104 aiEMOIK OF THE
that distress which sometimes takes place in the mind of
the offender, when first awakened to a sense of his alarm-
ing situation ; they call the necessity of his earnestness in
question, because they have never been so deficient in duty
as he knows himself to have been ; and consider that en-
thusiasm which is really the product of divine grace. On
the other hand, an individual thus awakened, very often
thinks that others who do not feel as he does, have never
experienced the influences of the Holy Spirit; and because
they are not equally alarmed with himself, he takes it for
granted that their prayers are cold and heartless, and their
devotion more a thing of habit than of a spiritual nature.
To show to those labouring under such prejudices, the im-
propriety of their views, I have told them that Christian
experience, however much it may vary in degree, will
always, if genuine, produce the same results; that it will
be attended with a supreme love to God, that an obedience
to his laws will mark their lives, and that the fruits of the
spirit will be manifest in their general deportment ; that if
the tree is really of the planting of the Lord, it will pro-
duce good fruit. Such being, as far as my knowledge ex-
tends, the general operations of the mind in the two de-
scriptions of persons I have mentioned ; it follows of course
that the minister of a parish should attend closely to his
duties, harmonizing, as far as in his power lies, the two dis-
cordant opinions ; uniting those in love and charity, who
are in fact children of the same family, pursuing the same
object, and whose affections are fixed on things above.
Richard Channkvg Moore."
In the years 1810 — 11 a controversy of a most unplea-
sant and exciting character took place between the Rev.
Cave Jones and Dr. Hobart, both assistant ministers of
LIFE OF BISHOP MOORE. 105
Trinity Church, which gave rise to several inflammatory
pamphlets, and produced serious divisions among the clergy
and laity of the Church in the diocese of New York. The
controversy was not allayed by the election and consecra-
tion of Dr. Hobart to the episcopate in the year 1811.
But as the diocese then had three Bishops, questions about
the right of jurisdiction, arising out of attempts to exercise
discipline upon the principal of one party, occasioned much
diversity of opinion among distinguished members of the
legal as well as clerical profession. It is unnecessary to
enter upon the merits of that controversy, which involved
the power of a diocesan to divest himself of his office and
its prerogatives by resignation, and other important points
deeply affecting our ecclesiastical organization. Dr. Moore,
in common with other distinguished gentlemen, clerical and
lay, was of opinion that the senior bishop. Dr. Provoost,
was, notwithstanding his resignation, (for which the Church
had then made no provision,) still to be regarded as the
rightful diocesan. He also sympathized with the minority
as to the other points involved in that painful controversy.
But it is a cause of gratitude that the differences between
him and Bishop Hobart, arising out of it, were entirely
healed by subsequent mutual explanations; and they ever
afterwards shared each other's confidence and affection.
His ministry in New York was one of commanding in-
fluence and most important results. The popularity which
he won in the early part of his rectorship in St. Stephen's
continued to be enjoyed, without any interruption, till its
close. His Church on the Lord's day, and the school-
houses where he lectured during the week, were always
crowded with solemn and attentive auditories. The pious
of every name, delighted, occasionally, to attend upon his
soul-stirring ministrations. To serious minded strangers
106 MEMOIR OP THE LIFE OF BISHOP MOORB.
visiting the city, St. Stephen's was one of the leading points
of attraction, and many who were savingly benefited by
casually listening to the Gospel which he preached, bore
back with them a blessing, and became radiating points of
spiritual illumination in the places of their respective abode.
In his different excursions to New London, Saratoga, and
other country towns, his preaching excited much interest and
produced happy results. Wherever he went, he scattered
" the good seed," and the extent of its fruitfulness, the great
day alone can reveal. "Within five years, his little band of
twenty communicants had swelled to more than four
hundred ; and his thirty families to a congregation large as
his Church could contain. Possessed of the respect and
love of all his parishioners, he enjoyed as high a share of
happiness as any parochial connexion can afibrd. He
would have desired no greater measure of comfort, satisfac-
tion, and pleasure, than to have spent the remainder of his
days with that humble but devoted flock. The Lord,
however, had a higher and more extensive field of useful-
ness for this favoured servant at his altar. As he had been
employed in resuscitating a dead, and in repairing a decay-
ed parish, he was now to be used as the honoured instru-
ment of raising a decayed and prostrate Diocese from a
state of desolation and ruin. His election and consecration
to the Episcopate of Virginia, and his entrance upon the
duties of that higher station, will demand our attention in
the following chapter.
CHAPTER IV.
1814.
The early history of the Church in Virginia. Election of Dr. Griffith
as Bishop, in 1786. Bishop Madison, the first Bishop of Virginia, con-
secrated in 1790. Deep depression of the Church, and its causes. Apos-
tolic character and labours of the Rev. Devereux Jarratt. Dr. Bracken's
election in 1812. New era in the Church under the auspices of a few
young Clergymen. Erection of the Monumental Church in Richmond —
and efforts made to obtain Dr. Moore for its first Rector with a view to
his election as Bishop. Correspondence on the subject — including letters
from Judge Washington, Bishop Hobart, and others. Propriety and deli-
cacy of Dr. Moore's course in respect to it. His election by the Conven-
tion and circumstances connected with his consecration in 1814. His
removal to Richmond. Previous condition of the Episcopal community
there. His great popularity and success. Fidelity in the pulpit and in
pastoral visitation. Presentation to him of a splendid copy of the New
Testament by his fellow citizens of all denominations. Summary view
of his character and labours as Rector of the Monumental Church.
It will not be an inappropriate introduction to our ac-
count of the elevation of the subject of this memoir to the
Episcopate of Virginia, to take a brief glance at the pre-
ceding history of the Church in that Diocese. The estab-
lishment of the Church and the propagation of the Gospel
among the native tribes of the new world seem to have oc-
cupied a prominent place in the views of government and
the designs of those who were instrumental in the founding
of the first English colony in America. " As far back as
1588, when Sir Walter Raleigh made an assignment of his
patent to Thomas Smith and others, he accompanied it
with a donation of one hundred pounds * for the propaga-
tion of the Christian religion in Virginia. ' It was also en-
108 MEMOIR OF THE
joined by the King's instruction ' that the presidents, coun-
cils and the ministers, should provide that the true word and
service of God be preached, planted, and used, not only in
the said Colonies, but also as much as might be among the
savages bordering upon them, according to the rites and
doctrines of the Church of England.' And the first charter
assigns as one of the reasons for the grant, that the con-
templated undertaking was a work which may, by the
providence of Almighty God, hereafter tend to the glory
of his divine majesty in propagating the Christian religion
to such people as yet live in darkness and miserable igno-
rance of the true knowledge and worship of God."*
In conformity with these pious designs, the Church was
planted with the Colony, at Jamestown, in 1606, and the
remains of the old Church tower is almost the only relic
which indicates to the traveller the site of the original
settlement. In a few years the Rev. Robert Hurst, pastor
of Jamestown, was joined by the Rev. Alexander Whitaker,
who established the Church at Henrico. By this gentle-
man, Pocahontas, the Indian princess, was baptized; and
in consequence of his faithful evangelical labours he re-
ceived the honourable title of " Apostle of Virginia." In
the year 1619, by the first legislative assembly ever con-
vened in the province, the Church of England was made
the established religion of Virginia, and fixed provision was
made by law for the decent support of the clergy. By
the appropriating of glebes, the imposition of taxes, and the
providing of funds for the establishment of schools and a
university — liberal provision was made not only for sustain-
ing the services of religion among the Colonists, but also for
the extension of its benefits to the benighted Indian tribes
• Burk's History of "Virginia, Charter, Hazard's State papers, cited by
Dr. Hawks.
LIFE OF BISHOP MOORE. ]09
by which they were surrounded. From this time the num-
ber of ministers and parishes increased as rapidly as could
be expected in the infant G)lony ; and notwithstanding the
neglect of the provincial government, the fierce assaults of
sectaries, and the prevalence of irreligion and vice, incident
to newly settled communities of adventurers, the Church
continued to exist, though attended with various fortune
until the war of the Revolution. That momentous struggle,
deprived it of many of its clergy, and some of its warmest
friends among the laity, who left the country from attach-
ment to the royal cause, — and the measures which re-
sulted in the political independence of the Colonies, left the
Church in a state of great feebleness and prostration. In
Maryland and Virginia, where the Church, as the estab-
lished religion, was sustained by a system of taxation, its
hold upon the affections of the people was weaker, and it
was more thoroughly crippled by the revolution, than it
was in the other provinces, where its existence imposed no
involuntary burdens upon the people. As the established
religion of an oppressive government, it shared deeply in
the odium attached to the royal power by which it had
been imposed. Moreover, the character of the clergy
who were brought into frequent collision with the provin-
cial officers, and with their flocks, in the enforcement of
their legal claims to support, became more secularized, and
was less virtuous and exemplary than that of the clergy in
the other provinces ; who, as missionaries, were responsible
for their good behaviour to the societies in whose service
they laboured, — and who depended for their support upon
the Christian bounty of the mother country.
There was presented in the American Colonies the
anomaly of an Episcopal Church, comprising hundreds of
ministers and congregations, without a resident Bishop on
i2
110 JIEMOIR OF THE
the continent, and for the space of more than one hundred
and fifty years subject to no Episcopal supervision or con-
trol that could be at all effective. It is true that the
Bishop of London had nominal jurisdiction over the
Churches in the provinces, and occasionally imposed some
restraints and exerted some salutary influence through the
medium of his commissaries. But in the absence of all pro-
per discipline, many of the clergy not only became negli-
gent in the performance of the spiritual duties of their of-
fice, but brought discredit upon their profession by indulg-
ing in the vices and dissipations of the world.
Notwithstanding the very depressed state of the
Church in V^irginia, arising chiefly from the causes
which have been adverted to, it was organized into an
ecclesiastical body by the calling of a convention, soon after
the close of the revolutionary war; and an early attempt
was made to complete its organization and secure episcopal
services, by the election, in 1786, of the Rev. David Grif-
fith, of Fairfax parish, to the office of Bishop. But we
have melancholy proof of the slender attachment of the
people to the Church and its divine institutions, in the fact,
that the convention did not furnish the means necessary to
defray the expenses of the Bishop-elect in proceeding to
England to procure consecration ; and as his own resources
were too limited to enable him to bear the expense himself,
Dr. Griftith was not consecrated ; and in 1789 he resigned
the honourable appointment to which the suffrages of the
Convention had called him. It was not until one hundred
and eighty-four years after it was first planted at James-
town, that the Church in Virginia received its first Bishop,
in the person of the Right Rev. James Madison, D. D., who
was elected by the convention in 1790, and consecrated at
Lambeth, in September of the same year.
LIFE OP BISHOP MOORE. Ill
Bishop Madison seems to have entered upon the duties
of his office with a sincere desire to elevate the character
of the Church, and to employ a commendable zeal in the
prosecution of such measures as would be likely to promote
its prosperity. In his addresses to the convention he ex-
horted the clergy to fidelity, activity, and energy in the
performance of the various duties of their sacred func-
tion, enforced upon the laity the duty of contributing to
the support of the ministry and other institutions of reli-
gion, recommended the catechising of children, the distri-
bution of religious tracts, and other efforts which seemed
well adapted to advance the interests of truth and piety in
the diocese. But however wise and judicious were his
schemes, and however serious his purpose to have them
carried into execution, it is certain that the result was in
no wise answerable to his anticipations and desires. The
deep-rooted prejudices against the Church grew and
strengthened. The minds of men, animated by the spirit
of revolution — and too often mistaking licentiousness for
liberty — burned with hatred towards every thing connect-
ed with the government whose yoke they had cast off, and
seemed disposed to break loose from all restraints, those of
religion and virtue not excepted. The mad demon of blas-
pheming infidelity, which had rode upon the whirlwind of
the French Revolution, was welcomed as an angel of light
and freedom by the leading civilians of Virginia. And it
was no difficult matter to persuade the vulgar to treat with
abuse and violence the sacred things which their superiors
and leaders contemptuously despised. The sectaries had
long viewed the Church with jealousy, suspicion and hatred,
and were willing to combine with the enemies of all religion
to strip her of her inheritance and lay her dignity in the dust.
This alliance of sectarianism and infidelity in the prosecu-
112 MEMOIR OF THE
tion of a common object, having succeeded in procuring a
repeal of the law incorporating the Episcopal Church in
Virginia, paused not in the prosecution of its end till it had
obtained a sacrilegious enactment confiscating the glebes
and other property of the Church to the uses of the state.
In the midst of these adverse and counteracting influ-
ences the course of the Church in Virginia was constantly
retrograde. Like a strong man, she staggered under the
heavy blows inflicted by her enemies, in rapid succession
one after another, till at length, exhausted and spiritless,
she fell prostrate in the dust. Bishop Madison himself seems
to have yielded to the spirit of the times. Despondency led
to an entire remission of effort; — for several successive
years not even a convention was called, or a single com-
bined attempt made to preserve the Church from irretrieva-
ble ruin. During fifteen years of his episcopate, the state
of ecclesiastical affairs had becom.e more and more disas-
trous ; and then he seemed to be like a pilot with his ship
among the breakers, who, in despair of escape, resigns the
helm, in expectation that his noble barque will soon lie
stranded as a shattered wreck upon the shore.
Need we dwell longer upon the melancholy scene of
spiritual barrenness and desolation which that period of our
ecclesiastical history presents to view? Need we more
minutely recapitulate the painful tale which the faithful
pen of history has recorded in part, and the disgraceful re-
mainder of which the busy, restless tongue of tradition has
not suffered to be forgotten ? Need we say more of the
poor inheritance of unwatchful shepherds and slumbering
flocks — the only relic of a proud establishment that had
survived the revolution ? Need we speak of careless gene-
rations who suffered churches to sink in ruins, ecclesiasti-
cal property to be scattered to the winds — and, in some
LIFE OF BISHOP MOORE. 113
instances, profanely used the sacred vessels of the sanc-
tuary in their bacchanalian orgies ?* No : we need advert
no farther to a former state of things which renders it
almost a miracle that the Church was not utterly extermi-
nated in Virginia. Nought but pure gold could have
abided the test of such a fiery ordeal. No tree except that
which the hand of the Lord hath planted could have sur-
vived the withering effects of such a storm.
But low and prostrate as was the condition of the Church
at the time of which we now write, there were some few
" faithful among the faithless found." Some humble
pastors of the flock who, in the retirement of their parishes,
resisted the influence of the times, and conscientiously per-
formed their duty, without the praise of men, content only
with the approbation of their Lord. Among them there
was one upon whose memory the shades of oblivion should
never settle, for in the darkest period of the Church's
history, he was " a burning and shining light ;" and so long
as truth and holiness continue to be prized in the Church of
Virginia, the thoughts of her devout sons will dwell with
grateful veneration upon the name of Devereux Jarratt.
This extraordinary man, who was self-educated under
the most discouraging circumstances, after his conversion,
devoted himself to the work of preparation for the ministry
with such success that the Bishop of London, who ordained
him, complimented him by saying, that according to the
testimony of Dr. Jortin, and others who examined him, he
passed his trials better than some graduates of Oxford and
Cambridge who received ordination at the same time.
* In one instance a marble baptismal font was converted into a watering
trough for horses ; and in more than one the communion cups were pro-
faned to the same purposes to which Belshazzar degraded the vessels of
the temple at Jerusalem.
114 aiEMOIB OF THE
Having received priest's orders in one week after he was
ordained deacon, at Christmas, 1762, he returned to Virginia,
and in the following August was unanimously received as
minister of the parish of Bath, Dinwiddle county.
Mr. Jarratt was a fearless and zealous advocate of the
great doctrines of the cross, and an uncompromising opposer
of all those worldly vices and pleasures which are incon-
sistent with the Christian profession. He brought strange
things to the ears of his people ; and his style of preaching,
80 entirely different from any thing to which they had been
accustomed, awakened the enmity of their carnal hearts,
and brought forth decided manifestations of hostility. But
in his case, as in all others, the preaching of the pure and
unadulterated Gospel, while it encountered the enmity of
men, was followed by the blessing of God. He preached
the Gospel amidst the effusions of the Holy Ghost. Many
were convinced of sin, and led to inquire " what must we
do to be saved ?" Souls were converted to God ; and at
every communion season " the Lord added to the Church
of such as should be saved." When Mr. Jarratt looked
around him and contemplated the desolations of Zion, his
heart yearned within him, as did that of his Master, when
gazing upon the multitudes, he had compassion on them,
because they were scattered as sheep having no shepherd.
His large soul, glowing with zeal for the salvation of men,
and the glory of Christ, could not rest satisfied while his la-
bours were confined to the limits of a single parish. He
therefore went on enlarging the sphere of his operations,
till it embraced a circuit of hundreds of miles; and he be-
came daily employed in preaching to anxious and solemn
congregations, in different and distant places, the words of
eternal life. He found great delight in thus " doing the
work of an Evangelist." His vigorous mind, lively imagi-
LIFE OF BISHOP MOORE. 115
nation, powerful voice, and commanding eloquence, pre-
eminently qualified him for this species of clerical occupa-
tion ; and his itinerating labours awakened a deep interest
in the inhabitants of the district favoured with them, second
only to that produced by those of Whitefield on a more
extended scale. His converts were exceedingly numerous.
Il was not uncommon for him, on sacramental occa-
sions, to administer the Lord's Supper to as many as nine
hundred or a thousand communicants, who, in the judgment
of charity, were meet recipients of that holy mystery.
There are a few aged disciples still living in Virginia, who
acknowledge Jarratt as their spiritual father. Their
countenances kindle with pleasure, and their eyes sparkle
with joy at the mention of his name; and the comparison
which they make between his services and those of modern
ministers, is any thing but complimentary to the clergy of
this generation. These reminiscences, however, ought
doubtless to be received with some qualifications; like all
others which connect themselves with the vivid impres-
sions of youth and childhood.
The spirit of this apostolic man was too uncompromising
and zealous to receive much sympathy from his contem-
poraries. There could be no strong affinity between him
and a class of ecclesiastics who deemed it a hardship to
forego the customary pleasures of the world, and a work of
supererogation even to attempt any thing more than the
perfunctory discharge of the duties of their office.
Mr. Jarratt was treated with too much indifference, not
to say contempt, by many of his clerical brethren, to take
a very active part in the public business or legislation of
the diocese. He never attended more than two or three
conventions. At one of these, held in Richmond, 1792,
he preached the opening sermon. And never, perhaps,
116 MEMOIR OF THE
was there a more faithful exhibition of the spirit of the
Christian minister, of the doctrines he should preach, of
his awful responsibility, and of the eternal consequences of
his labours either in weal or woe to himself and his hearers,
than in the discourse pronounced upon that occasion. At
that Convention he was appointed on a committee to devise
means for carrying into cifect certain canons relating to
discipline ; and immediately after it was desired to assist in
the examination of some candidates for orders. But find-
ing that there was no disposition to render the discipline of
the Church efficacious, and that his refusal, " for good rea-
sons," to recommend two of the candidates, did not prevent
their ordination, he retired, in sorrow and disgust, and
thought himself excused for absenting himself from Con-
ventions ever afterwards.
Still his labours for the benefit of the Church within his
appropriate sphere, were diligent and unwearied as be-
fore, till arrested by disease, he sunk to rest 29th January,
1801, sustained in death by the hopes and consolations of
that Gospel which it had been the joy of his life to pro-
claim to others.
His life, written by himself, in a series of letters to his
friend, the Rev. Mr. Coleman, of Maryland, while it calls
us to grieve over the corruption of human nature in the
records it contains of the opposition he encountered from
brethren of his own household, and of the ingratitude and
treachery of some Methodist preachers, whose labours he
countenanced and favoured, till he discovered that they
had made a schism in the Church ; calls us also to magnify
the grace of God displayed in the instructive experience
and successful ministry of one of the most favoured of his
servants. This autobiography, and three volumes of ser-
mons, published after his death, by some editor who was
LIFE OF BISHOP MOORE. 117
illy qualified to prepare them for the press, are all that re-
main of the productions of that eminent and holy man.
If John Wickliff be appropriately styled the " morning
star of the Reformation" in England, Devereux Jarratt
may be no less truly called the morning star of the revival
of the Church in Virginia. We hope this hasty sketch
will not be deemed a censurable digression. We could
not, perhaps, say more, consistently with the object of the
present w^ork ; we could not have said less, with justice to
our theme, li the "witness" of the departed be "in
heaven, and his record on high," it is but right that a me-
morial of him should be sacredly preserved upon earth.
The names of Jarratt and Moore may be associated here
as their spirits will be there.
In the year 1812, after having occupied the Episcopal
office for more than twenty-one years, Bishop Madison de-
parted this life. Soon after his decease, the Convention,
which had not met since 1805, was assembled, chiefly, it is
presumed, for the purpose of electing a successor. The
Rev. John Bracken, D. D., was duly elected, but was in-
duced by circumstances, afterwards to decline the appoint-
ment. In the journal of the Convention for this year, the
name of the Rev. William Meade appears, for the first
time, as Rector of Christ Church, Alexandria.
This young man, connected with some of the more
wealthy and influential families in Virginia, having been
educated at Nassau Hall, in New Jersey, and brought, at
an early period of life, to know the truth, and experience
the converting power of the Gospel, sympathized with the
pious few scattered throughout the diocese, who, mourning
over the desolations of Zion, " thought upon her stones, and
favoured the dust thereof." Soon after his ordination to
the ministry, he appeared in the Convention of 1812, to
118 MEMOIR OF THE
bear part in its deliberations, and fully purposed to devote
his talents, fortune, and influence to the good work of re-
viving the Church of his fathers. The Rev. John Dunn,
the Rev. William H. Wilnier, and the Rev. Oliver Norris,
(the two latter of whom had come from Maryland in com-
pliance with the solicitations of Mr. M.,) zealously co-
operated with him in his holy enterprise; and several lay-
men of distinction were persuaded also to take an active
part in ecclesiastical affairs. So rapid and effective was
the success of this movement, that in the Convention of
1813, there seems to have been a retirement of those who
had previously governed its operations. The Rev. John
Dunn, William H. Wilmer, Oliver Norris, the Hon. Bush-
rod Washington, Nicholas Fitzhugh, and Edmund I.
Lee, Esqrs., were elected the Standing Committee of the
diocese. The following resolutions exhibit the first fruits
of that new and better influence which had now been
brought to bear upon the interests of truth and piety in the
Church of Virginia. They afforded the earnest of a deter-
mination to active energy in the cause of God, which has
ever since been vigorously maintained. In them we be-
hold the dawning of a light which has continued to shine
with increasing brightness from that day to the present.
" Whereas, from the destitute state of the churches in
this state, many piously disposed persons who are attached
to the doctrine, worship, and discipline of the Protestant
Episcopal Church, are deprived of the means of worship-
ping God according to her venerable forms, to the great un-
happiness of themselves, as well as to the great detriment
of the Church at large;
Resolved, therefore. That it is expedient to raise a fund
for the purpose of aiding in the support of such clergymen
of piety and talents as may be obtained to perform divine
LIFE OF BISHOP MOORE. 119
service in such districts in the state as may be assigned to
them by the Convention.
Resolved, That the clergy and vestry, or any influen-
tial members in the several parishes in the State, be, and
are hereby requested, to use their best endeavours, either
by subscriptions or otherwise, to promote this object.
Resolved, That the members of this Church, generally,
are hereby most earnestly entreated to consider the ne-
cessity o{ adopting zealous measures for the restoration
of religion among us; that they endeavour to manifest
their gratitude to Almighty God, and their sense of the
awful importance of his bl%*sed revelation; that they con-
sider the unspeakable rewards they will receive from that
gracious Master to whom they belong, whose goodness
demands the warmest returns of love, duty, and obedience;
and that they will contribute to the utmost in their power
to render this most acceptable service to his cause.
Resolved, That the Standing Committee do frame an
address on the state of the Church ; and that they cause to
be printed thereof two hundred copies, and to address
them in the form of a circular letter, and accompanied by
the journal, to the Minister and Vestry of each parish, and
to such other persons as may be likely, in their judgment,
to promote the interests of the Church."
It was evident, however, to those who had thus ener-
getically entered upon the good work of restoring a pros-
trate Church, that the noble object of their desire would
never be accomplished but under the supervision, and
through the divinely instituted agency of an Episcopal
head. But the active clergy of the diocese were all too
young for the office. Their attention, of course, was direct-
ed to some other quarter ; and although Dr. Moore was
personally a stranger in Virginia, yet those upon whom
120 JIEMOIR OF THE
Providence had devolved the principal managennent of
diocesan concerns were perfectly united in him as the man
of their choice. There was no fund for the support of a
Bishop ; and but a single congregation in the state that
would be able to elect him as its rector with the oflfer of a
suitable maintenance. That was the congregation of the
Monumental Church, Richmond, who were then erecting
a costly edifice upon the site of the theatre destroyed Dec.
2Gth, 1811, by a fearful conflagration, in which more than
one hundred persons had been consumed; being sum-
moned as in the twinkling of an eye from a gay spectacle
of worldly amusement into tl^ presence of their Judge !
It was an event which carried sorrow into many a domes-
tic circle. The citizens were prompted by it to the speedy
erection of an edifice which would at once commemorate
that fearful visitation of God's judgment, and at the same
time furnish them with more suitable accommodations in
humbling themselves before him in acts of penitence, sup-
plication, and praise.
The leading friends of the Church at once set themselves
at work to obtain Dr. Moore's consent to be elected as
rector of the principal Church in the Metropolis, and
Bishop of the Diocese. They commenced their efl^orts be-
fore Dr. Bracken officially made known his declinature to
the Convention of 1813. The first letter addressed to him
upon the subject was dated in January of that year.
But the history of the whole negotiation, the earnestness
with which the appeal was prosecuted on their part, and
the delicacy and discretion manifested on his, will be most
readily and satisfactorily learned from a perusal of the
correspondence itself.
LIFE OF BISHOP MOORE. 121
LETTERS ON REMOVING TO THE EPISCOPATE OF VIRGINIA.
January 27th, 1813.
Rev. and Dear Sir, — We have good reason for believing
that the Rev. Dr. Bracken, elected Bishop of Virginia will
decline consecration. In that event we shall have to turn
our attention to some other person suitable to fill that holy
and important office. But really. Sir, Virginia presents not,
in our estimation, one, in whom the qualities essential for
such an office unite. In the consideration of this melancho-
ly fact, the Rev. Mr. Meade and I take the liberty of
opening a confidential communication with you upon this
subject; should you think proper to encourage our wishes,
we shall take care to proceed in a manner likely to obviate
(in case of disappointment) the delicate embarrassments to
which your feelings might be subjected. Richmond is now
vacant, and would offer a favourable situation for the
residence of a Bishop. Could you pay it a visit, it would,
1 doubt not, facilitate the object we have in view. The
inhabitants of that place have, I hope, derived some advan-
tage from their calamities, and are desirous of obtaining a
man of zeal and piety. It would be a great pity that these
poor lacerated lambs should fall into the hands of an un-
faithful Shepherd. Besides this, Richmond, in its relation
to the other parts of Virginia, is an infinitely important
situation ; it is the heart, and if it be unsound, the body
and extremities must of course be unhealthful. It is right
to remark, however, that the probable salary at that place
may not be equal to that of New York. But there is no
doubt that a faithful discharge of the itinerary duties of a
Diocesan would command an increase of salary adequate
to your wishes. The state of the Church in Virginia is
indeed most deplorable.
53
122 MEMOIR OF THE
The desolations of many generations are to be repaired ;
yet the prepossessions throughout the state are remarkably
in favour of Episcopal principles and worship, and amidst
the widely extended ruin, furnish a foundation for the hope
that, under pure and faithful men, her walls might be built
up, and herself advanced to a grade equal, at least, to that
of her sister Churches. The task, though arduous, is noble
and glorious, and as such has claim to the favourable con-
sideration of those whom God hath endowed with talents
for so great a work. I wish you could make a visit to
Richmond this winter. I cannot express the idea of import-
ance, which belongs to the right management of the
Church there. It is the place of meeting for the legislature:
tbe resort of persons from all parts of the state, and conse-
quently the state of the Church there, would affect most
materially, if not form, its character and influence through-
out Virginia. I have a threefold motive to urge me in the
request that you would pay it a visit soon: one of which,
though the least, is, the pleasure it would afford to
Yoxir affectionate brother in the Gospel,
W. H. WiLMER.
REPLY.
No Date.
Rev. and Dear Sir, — The important nature of the com-
munication with which you have favoured me, must apolo«
gize to you for any apparent neglect with which my long
silence may have impressed your mind. The subject is of
a description so serious, and involves in it such weighty con-
siderations, that I have not, until within a few days, been
prepared to give you an answer. There are no privations
of a personal nature, to which I would not cheerfully sub-
mit, were T persuaded that my labours among you would
LIFE OP BISHOP MOORE. 123
be productive of those good effects which you so fondly an-
ticipate. From the duties attached to the office in question,
however arduous and extensive, I should not for a moment
shrink, were I assured that Divine Providence had fixed
upon me as the individual to extend the interests of his
Church, and to repair the desolations of which you so feel-
ingly complain : but as the way appears to me so obscured
by doubts, I dare not venture to comply, lest after having
embarked in that cause, I should be denied that assistance
without which the labours of a Paul would prove barren
and unprofitable. With respect to the maintenance I
should receive, I entertain no fears, as I firmly believe that
a faithful man would be furnished with every necessary
support. To live in luxury and pomp, a Christian Bishop
has no claim ! but while he serves his Master with fidelity,
things convenient will be afforded him. Elijah's God will be
his God, the barrel of meal, and the cruse of oil will be for-
bidden to fail. Be pleased to accept my sincere thanks for
the good opinion which you entertain of me. May that
God whom we serve in the Gospel direct your attention to
some person better qualified for the office in contemplation!
May the solemn trust be confided to no man to whose heart
the Saviour is not precious, the chief among ten thousand,
and altogether lovely ! Present my sincere respects to my
Rev. brother, Mr. Meade, and accept for yourself the
assurance of that affection with which
I remain
Your Brother in the Gospel
of the Lord Jesus,
R. C. MoORE.
124 MEMOIR OF THE
Alexandria, March 4th, 1813.
Rev. Sir, — Let the importance of the subject excuse a
stranger in addressing you. I was associated with Mr.
Wilmer in writing you a letter concerning our unhappy
Church, and the city of Richmond, the one wanting a head,
and the other a pastor. A few days since an unwelcome
answer was received, and yet I cannot despair, because I
think that God yet means well to us. I do not wonder at
your doubts, fears, and backwardness ; but these, I think,
will all give way when you shall come and visit us, and see
how things stand. The object of this letter is to persuade
you to make us a visit as soon as you conveniently can. I
hope and believe, Sir, that you have given yourself up to
God, and that you wish to serve him, and desire to know
and do his will. This is all we want of you, to come and
see if it be not God's will that you abide among us. I doubt
not you will be informed truly of God. Now, Sir, is the
trying and critical moment. Now is to be decided whether
God means to keep a remnant of our Church alive
among us, or to destroy it entirely. The town of Rich-
mond contains by far the largest body of Episcopalians in the
Southern country. If some one of suitable talents and real
piety does not go there, it will either fall into the hands of
some miserable creature, (many of whom have already been
fawning for it) or, if a clever Presbyterian should offer, they
will throw away Episcopacy, and fall under his banners.
And if Episcopacy dies there, at the heart, of course it dies
elsewhere. This is the central place: here each winter the
assembly of the state sits. The supreme court, and the
Convention of the clergy meet here also. You would
have a large and respectable congregation; hitherto they
have not heard the truth, but now I believe they are well-
LIFE OF BISHOP MOORE. 125
disposed to receive it, and would despise the man who
should not declare it. I received a letter from one of its
members a few days since; I will repeat his own words:
*' From your character of Dr. Moore, I have no question of
his being invited to take charge of our flock, provided he
would visit us and preach to us. Before the ensuing au-
tumn some proper person must be fixed on, or there is an
end of episcopacy in the metropolis of Virginia." Your
election to the high office of Bishop, I have no doubt, would
follow your acceptance of the Church in Richmond, and
here also in time you might be of great service. If ever
our Church is doomed to rise, it must begin by a Bishop of
zeal and talents fixed in Richmond. No evil can ensue
from your visiting us, much good may. I think. Sir, you
ought to take the subject into serious consideration, and
consider not only the good that may be done by coming,
but the evil that might follow from not coming. Certain ,
I am, that unless we have a Bishop of real piety, zeal,
and talents in Richmond, episcopacy is gone forever. If
such a person was there, I think it highly probable, from
present circumstances, that in many places she would rise
from the dust.
Believe me,
Your friend and brother,
VVm. Meade.
REPLY TO. MR. MEADE.
No date.
" Rev. and dear Sir : — In reflecting upon the plan pro-
posed to me by Mr. Wilmer and yourself, I have in vain
looked for those evidences, which were necessary to con-
126 ME3I0IR OF THE
vince me that it was my duty to acquiesce. Had I con-
sented to the proposition, I must have done so without that
full persuasion which was necessary to my own quiet. My
advances, therefore, would have been so tremulous that
your expectations would have been disappointed, and the
cause injured which you are both so anxious to promote.
Could I have felt the pressure of duty upon my conscience,
it would have required more than a human arm to have
arrested me in the prosecution of the measure ; but want-
ing that evidence, I have taken it for granted that your
partialities have misled you, and that I am not the indi-
vidual calculated for the work. To be instrumental in
raising Zion from her ruins, and in repairing her waste
and desolate places ; to be instrumental in advancing the
Redeemer's kingdom, and in bringing sinners to the fold of
Jesus, is a work in which my soul delights, and wherever I
have seen a solitary individual grounding his weapons of
rebellion, and lifting up the voice of supplication to the
throne of Grace, my heart has vibrated with pleasure, and
I have sung and given praise with the best m.embcr that I
have. How much more should I exult in seeing your Church
shaking herself from the dust, divested of the spirit of hea-
viness, and putting on those beautiful garments, in which
Zion will appear when in a state of prosperity and joy.
I hope you will pardon my long silence, for, rely upon it,
that if your subject had been of less importance it should
have been immediately attended to, but involving in it such
deep considerations, I have not been able to answer you one
moment sooner.
Believe me, in great truth.
Your brother in Christ,
Richard Channing Moore.
LIFE OF BISHOP MOORE. 127
Alexandria, Nov. 19th, 1813.
Rev. Sir, — The founders of the new Episcopal Church
in the city of Richmond in Virginia, being anxious that it
should be filled by a clergyman of talents, respectability
and piety, have done us the honour of requesting us to in-
vite, in their names, such a character to visit them, with a
view of engaging him to accept of the charge. From the
inquiries we have made of those whose opinions are enti-
tled to great respect, as to the proper character to fill so
important a station, we consider you as the person best
suited to the place, and object of our friends. Under this
impression, we, on behalf and in the name of the Episcopal
congregation in Richmond, ask the favour of you to visit
the people of that congregation. It is the wish and desire,
not only of the members of the Richmond Church, but of
others belonging to the Episcopal Churches in the state of
Virginia, that whoever is fixed as the established minister
of that Church, should be appointed Bishop of the State.
If it should be consistent with your views to accept this in-
vitation, we have reason to expect you will find induce-
ments to make Richmond your place of residence, and that
an ample field of usefulness will then be opened unto you.
Your early reply will much oblige us.
We are, Rev. Sir,
Your most obt. servants,
BusHROD Washington,
Edmund I. Lee.
TO BUSHROD WASHINGTON, ESQ.
New York, Dec. 16th, 1813.
Dear Sir, — The situation in which Providence hath
placed me, and the blessings with which my labours in this
128 MEMOIR OF THE
city have been attended, would render me extremely cul-
pable, were 1 to listen to any invitation, or consent to any
change, except such an one as bore the evident traces of
his own divine appointment. The destinies of my life I
have long since submitted to the God I serve ; it is there-
fore my duty, and I can assert with truth that it is my in-
clination, to be disposed of agreeably to his will. Could I
be convinced that the sphere of my usefulness would be en-
larged, or the cause of the Redeemer be promoted, by my
removal to Virginia, I should think it criminal to hesitate
a moment, or to indulge the least fear or apprehension.
Your address to me upon the subject has excited my deep-
est attention, and has led me to seek most ardently for the
direction of heaven upon the occasion, and although lean-
not consent to visit Richmond as you propose, still I should
not feel myself justifiable, were I to decline altogether the
propositions you have made me. With respect to pecu-
niary matters, my present establishment is so comfortable,
that I stand in need of no change ; under this impression it
would be imprudent in me to risk the alienation of my peo-
ple's regard, by looking for a settlement which perhaps
may not be within the control of my friends at the south-
ward: for a man. Sir, who has seen fifty years, to rush into
such an experiment, would betray, in my opinion, a want
of those solid principles necessary to preserve the confidence
of my old friends, and to secure the good opinion of those
with whose acquaintance I may hereafter be honoured ; in
addition to which evil it would discover also a wish to lead,
instead of being led by Providence. Should the congrega-
tion of the Episcopal Church at Richmond, from the repre-
sentations of character which they may have received of
me, think proper to call me as their rector, with a suitable
support, and should the Convention of the state unite in my
LIFE OF BISHOP MOORE. 129
election to the episcopate, I should think it my duty
to make them as early a visit as possible in order to
converse with the leading members of the Church upon
the subject, and to come to an immediate conclusion re-
specting the expediency of my removal. The Church in
Virginia, I have been informed, is from a variety of cir-
cumstances in a depressed situation. Should it fall to my
lot to be appointed to watch over her interests, my utmost
energies shall be exerted in repairing her waste and deso-
late places : it is the society, Sir, into whose bosom I was
received at my baptism, and in whose religious peculiari-
ties I have been educated from my infancy. To see her
lay by her weeds and put on her beautiful garments, in
which Zion in her prosperity shall be arrayed, would con-
vey to my mind sensations of the purest joy. To promote
this object, fidelity in her clergy is an indispensable requi-
site. To produce this effect they must be labourers indeed
in the Vineyard of the Redeemer.
Believe me, dear Sir, &c.
Richard Channing Moore.
Alexandria, Dec. 28th, 1813,
Rev. and dear Sir, — The same mail which conveys this
contains one also from the Standing Committee. We ar-
dently desire the supply of Richmond with a faithful and
evangelical minister, and the Church with an apostolic
Bishop. Such have been the representations of character
in your behalf, as to authorise the expectation of seeing in
you these qualities exemplified. The Church in Virginia
is in a peculiar situation. Its having been once the esta-
blished Church, the prevalence and virulence of other de-
nominations, the sequestration of its glebes, the irregularity
130 MEMOIR OF THE
of the lives of its ministers, and various political causes
have combined to svv'ell high the tide of public opinion and
indeed of odium against her public form of service, her
surplices, and all the paraphernalia of clerical costume.
Although this sentiment does not prevail in all its force in
this place, or in Richmond, yet they present powerful ob-
stacles to the Episcopal ministry. Under these circum-
stances, and to hearts thus constructed, it appears to me
that no man can carry our forms, in all their rubrical rigour,
with any prospect of success. He must give it to them
gradually as they can bear it, he must deal with them as
with babes, with discretion and zeal correct their taste,
and strengthen their appetite until they can digest stronger
food. If there be not a discretionary power in the clergy,
verily I know not who will be innocent in these matters.
This discretion, I am well aware, should be exercised with
great caution, and with a solemn view to the responsibility
of evading a rule sanctioned by the Church, and our ordi-
nation vows. We want a Bishop who will watch over his
clergy with tears and tenderness; who will be an example
as well as teacher to his flock ; who will know nothing
among us *•' save Jesus Christ and him crucified ;" and who
while he inculcates a due reverence for our venerable
forms of doctrine, discipUne, and worship, as being of apos-
tolic authority, will at the same time direct his best ener-
gies towards the end of all religious institutions, namely,
the deliverance of immortal souls from hell. Such a bishop
will have our co-operation, our love, and our prayers. It
was, therefore, with heart-felt pleasure, we received the
first intimation of hope that the Church could procure you.
Sir, in whom we believe these qualities to unite, as our
diocesan. In these sentiments, I think I speak those of the
clergy and laity of my acquaintance in this state, and had
LIFE OF BISHOP MOORE. 131
we been so unfortunate as to obtain a Bishop of other views,
the genius and temper of Virginia would have rendered his
offices as disagreeable to him, as they would have been in-
efficacious to the prosperity of the Church over which he
presided.
Permit me to add my own opinion and wishes to those of
the Standing Committee in relation to your making them
a speedy visit at Richmond.
I am, dear sir, Slc,
W. H, WiLMER.
New York, Jan. 8lh, 1814.
Rev. and Dear Sir, — The prejudices which are enter-
tained by many of the Virginians, against the services of
the Church, and the appropriate costume of the clergy
afibrd matter of considerable surprise to a person bred in
this part of the union. Every denomination of Christians
possesses some distinguished feature by which they are
known, and it appears to me that the people would have
reason to be displeased, w'ere their clergymen so far to aber-
rate from these peculiarities of their religious profession, as
to lose sight of those marks by which they have always
been characterized. Educated in the bosom of the Epis-
copal Church, I have always been taught to entertain the
most profound respect for all her services: her liturgy, in
particular, forming the very expression of that devotion
in which rny forefathers w^orshipped God, is peculiarly dear
to me ! In addition to which, the consideration of my ordi-
nation vows binds me to the public observance of it, by a
tie which it would be criminal to rend asunder. Let the
ministers of the Church tread in the steps of their Divine
Master 1 Let them visit the sick, and bind up the broken-
132 MEMOIR OF THE
hearted ! Let the poor of Christ's flock be the objects of
their care ! Let such be their conduct, and I will venture
to predict that the mountains of opposition will in a little
time become a plain, the Prayer-book will be venerated,
our ceremonies approved, the cause of the Church be pro-
moted, and penitent sinners will seek for an asylum in
our bosoms, and attach themselves to the standard of our
profession. Should I ever settle among you, I trust that
the Lord Jesus will go with me to bless me. The moment
the people of Richmond choose me as their Rector, I will
make arrangements to visit them. It rests very much with
themselves to afford me the pleasure of seeing and convers-
ing with you.
Believe me, yours, &c.,
Richard Channing Moore.
Ret. W. H. Wilmer.
EXTRACT OF A LETTER.
Alexandria, Dec. 18th, 1813.
" 1 hope God will enable you to make up your mind very
soon, and that you will lose no time, but come on as soon
as possible. I think it important for you to visit the Church
at Richmond, from all I know and have heard upon the
subject ; you are the very person who will be their choice;
and, further, our Church here is without a diocesan, and
you may rest assured, my dear sir, that you are the cler-
gyman who will meet the wishes of a great majority.
" Yours, &,c.,
0. NORRIS."
Alexandria, March 9th, 1814.
Rev. and Dear Sir, — Your favour of the 5th came duly
to hand. I can well conceive, sir, and I assure you I enter
LIFE OF BISHOP MOORE. 133
with lively interest into the delicate considerations suggest-
ed in your letter. If any serious opposition to our views were
apprehended, I should feel it due to you to make known
those difficulties. But as far as I am acquainted, there is no
serious difficulty to be anticipated. Mr. Meade, Mr. Norris,
Mr. Dunn, Mr, McGuire, a candidate for orders, now officiat-
ing at Fredericksburg, with his delegation, are all favour-
able to our wishes. Much reliance is placed on these gentle-
men, and those with whom I have the pleasure of being asso-
ciated in the Standing Committee, for the great influence
they possess throughout the State. The other gentlemen
of the clergy, I am not well acquainted with, except Mr.
Boggs, and Mr. Woodville. I have not had an opportunity
of sounding them upon the subject, but presume, from the
general tenor of their sentiments and conduct, that they
would be with us. But it is our general opinion that these
facilities will be much increased by your attendance at
our State Convention.
Yours, &,c. &c.,
W. H. WiLMER.
New York, December 18th, 1813.
Dear Sir, — The Rev. Dr. Moore, of this city, has con-
sulted me on the subject of the overtures which he has
received from Virginia. The situation of our Church
in that state has long excited the lively sympathy of all
her friends. It must be evident that she can be raised, as
a Church, from her present depressed condition, only by the
blessing of God on the labours of a pious and zealous clergy,
who, faithfully fulfilling their ordination vows, inculcate her
evangelical doctrines, and steadfastly adhere to her apos-
tolic order and primitive worship. These are the views,
I am happy to find, which Dr. Moore entertains, and the
L 2
134 MEMOIR OF THE
principles by which, should he remove to Virginia, it is his
determination to regulate his conduct. It gives me plea-
sure, therefore, to assure you, that should his settlement
in Virginia be effected, his brethren here cherish the san-
guine hope that his ministrations will be greatly instrumen-
tal in the promotion of real religion, agreeably to the pure
and primitive institutions of our Church, and thus, in raising
that Church from her present depressed situation. An ad-
ditional pledge of this happy event is afforded by the con-
fidence which the communications to him authorize, that
the holy and interesting cause of reviving the Church in
Virginia, has already engaged the active zeal, not only of
many of her clergy, but of distinguished laymen, whose
counsel and co-operation cannot fail of producing the hap-
piest effects. I have written this letter, of which you can
make what use you think proper, with the knowledge of
Dr. Moore, and also the enclosed, which I must beg you to
transmit to Richmond.
With my respects to the clergy of our Church in your
city,
I remain, dear sir,
Your friend and obedient servant,
J. H. HOBART.
Edmund I. Lee, Esq.
December 31st, 1813.
Dear Sir, — Vour communications concerning Dr. Moore I
have received, and am well pleased with; I think his conduct
very correct. His proposals raise him in my estimation.
I think we may venture to assure him of the office of
Bishop. I hope the people of Richmond will accept his
terms; if they are wise, or if God yet smiles on Episcopacy,
LIFE OF BISHOP MOORE. 135
they will gladly take him. I believe I shall write to Dr.
Brockenborough on the subject. Dr. Moore should be in
Richmond before April. I am truly sorry that you will be
absent when I come down. God willing, nothing prevent-
ing, 1 shall be there toward the last of next week. I shall
certainly be often at your house.
With prayers for the welfare of your soul, and the hap-
piness of your present life,
I remain your sincere friend,
William Meade.
Mr. Edmund I. Lee,
Alexandria, D. C.
TO THE REV. W. H. WILMER.
March, 2.3d, 1814.
The attempt which I made to visit you last month has
excited a great sensation in the minds of my congregation
in this city, several of whom have discovered a temper
very unsuitable, and totally unmerited by me; for Heaven
is my witness, how ardently and unceasingly I have endea-
voured to ascertain the will of God, respecting the concern
to which our attention has been called. Not a resolution
have I adopted, nor a step have 1 taken, without looking
for that direction, both from Heaven and my brethren, so
necessary in a matter of such infinite importance. From
the experience which I have derived from a variety of
sources, I have concluded that it would be extremely
hazardous for me to see Virginia prior to the meeting of
your next Convention ; for should you be disappointed in
your expectations, the reception which I should meet on
my return, I plainly perceive, would infinitely distress me:
not that I believe the generality of my flock would act
136 3IE5IOIR OF THE
unkindly towards me, or be indisposed duly to appreciate
my motives, but as all men are not equally benevolent,
some would be found to act in a manner inimical to my
peace and comfort. The business, my beloved sir, must,
therefore, rest upon the basis of that answer, which I re-
turned to the letter I received from Judge Washington,
viz : " should the congregation at Richmond choose me as
their Rector, with a suitable support, and should the
Church of Virginia elect me to the Episcopate, my utmost
energies shall be exerted to promote the happiness and
prosperity of both."
Philadelphia, April 7th, 1814.
Rev. and Dear Sir, — When I left Alexandria, we were
anxiously expecting your arrival at that place, on your way
to Richmond. Until this morning, I had supposed that you
had passed on, and was regretting to Dr. Blackwell and
Mr. Kemper, that 1 had lost the pleasure of seeing you,
when they informed me that you had declined making your
visit to Virginia, previous to the meeting of the Convention.
With the most respectful deference to your judgment, I
think that a visit to Richmond, prior to the meeting of the
Convention, would be in itself a proper measure. 1 know
it would be highly gratifying to the Episcopalians of that
city ; and I cannot believe that it would in any respect
violate that delicacy which I know to be attached to your
character, and which I understand has principally in-
fluenced your decision on this occasion. I should consider
it not unreasonable, that those who are desirous of filling
the highest station in the Church with a person most fit to
discharge the functions of it, should be indulged in the wish
they would naturally feel to hear him preach, and to form
LIFE OF BISHOP MOOEE. 137
a personal acquaintance with him. I should hope that any
objection wojild appear to you insufficient to prevent your
going on as early in this nnonth as your convenience will
permit. I ought to observe that the expectation of our
friends in Richmond, on this subject, is founded upon our
letters to them, stating that it was your intention to visit
them — which we confidently calculated would take place
during the last or the present month.
lam, dear sir, &-c.,
BusHROD Washington.
New York, April 25th, 1814.
My Dear Sir, — I have furnished the Rev. Dr. Moore
with the testimonial required by the canons in the case of a
removal from one diocese to another. I deem it, however,
an act of justice to him, further to state to you, that Dr.
Moore's ministrations have been uniformly respectable,
popular, and useful. He evinces sincere attachment to the
doctrines, the order, and the worship of the venerable
Church in which he has been educated, and in which he
has been for many years a zealous labourer. And such
is the confidence placed in his fidelity to his principles,
and in his prudent and zealous efforts to advance her in-
terests, should the order of Providence remove him to
Virginia, that I believe he will go there w^ith the good wishes
and the prayers of his brethren generally in this quarter.
I very sincerely declare that Dr. Moore's intercourse with
me is so frank, respectful, and friendly, and he appears so
heartily disposed to co-operate with me in advancing the
common interest of our Zion,that I shall regret his removal
from this diocese, at the same time that I trust and be-
lieve that his ministrations and labours, by the blessing of
138 MEMOIR OF THE
God, will be advantageous to the cause of religion and the
Church in Virginia.
I remain, dear sir,
Very sincerely and respectfully,
Your obedient friend and brother,
J. H. HOBART.
Edmund I. Lee, Esa.
In this correspondence Dr. Moore displays the very spirit
which became his character and station. He dared not
declare that under no circumstances would he consent to
be elevated to the high office which he was solicited to ac-
cept ; lest haply he should contravene the divine will in
this particular. Yet, situated as he was, in a position of
great usefulness, where he enjoyed every thing that was
necessary to his temporal comfort and happiness, he could
not, conscientiously, do any thing which would seem like
anticipating the designs of Providence, or of contributing
to his own promotion. He therefore respectfully but firm-
ly declined the repeated and earnest solicitations of his
friends to visit Virginia before his mind was convinced that
he had been duly called there " according to the will of
our Lord Jesus Christ and the order of the Church."
It was made known to the Convention, which assembled
in Richmond on the 4th of May, 1814, that Dr. Moore had
been appointed Rector of the Monumental Church ; where-
upon, the Convention proceeded to the election of a Bishop,
in which every vote, save one, was for him.
At the time of Dr. Moore's election, there were but four
acting bishops in the United States. The event, therefore,
afTorded high satisfaction ; not only as contributing to the
promotion of truth and piety in the Church, but because
it relieved the fears, which many began to entertain, that
LIFE OF BISHOP MOORE. 139
death might reduce the number of our bishops below that
which is necessary to constitute an Episcopal College.
This was the first instance in the United States of the
election of a clergyman as Bishop in any other Diocese
than that in which he was resident ; and the first, save one,
of the election to the Episcopate of one holding those views
of theological doctrines, and ecclesiastical usages, which
characterize what is called the "evangelical" school. But
the example has been since extensively followed, in both
particulars, with signal advantage to the Church.
On the 18th of May, 1814, Dr. Moore was consecrated to
the ofiice of Bishop, in St. James' Church, Philadelphia, by
the Rt. Rev. William White, presiding Bishop, assisted by
Bishops Hobart, Griswold, and Dehon. In the sermon
preached upon the occasion, by Bishop Hobart, the follow-
ing animating passages are found.
" The night of adversity has passed, and the morning, I
would fain hope, of a long and splendid day is dawning on
the Church in V^irginia. I think I see the pledge of this
in the attachment to our Church, and in the anxious desire
to serve her, manifested by laymen of the highest influence
and talents, and by a few zealous clergy. They have com-
bined, and they have resolved, under God, that the Church
in Virginia shall not perish. From my soul I revere and
love them for the holy resolve. My God! in this remem-
ber them for good. The first fruits of their labours we
witness this day.
"To counsel, to lead, to strengthen them in their exertions;
to revive, among a numerous and widely extended popula-
tion, the spirit of piety ; to make known, valued and loved,
the evangelical and primitive institutions of our Church;
to make these institutions and services, under God, the in-
struments of bringing again the outcast, and reclaiming the
140 MEMOIR OF THE
lost, of conviction and conversion to the sinner, of holiness
and comfort to the saint, is the work of imminent difficulty
and hazard ; but I trust, by God's blessing, of success and
honour, to which you, my Reverend brother, will be called."
" I owe it to you to declare, that in relation to the Episco-
pate of Virginia, you were pressed with an urgency which
would not admit of a refusal ; and that your whole conduct
in respect to it has been marked by a frankness, and con-
ciliation, and a zeal for the interests of religion and the
Church, which have removed every difficulty that might
have impeded your elevation to the Episcopal office. We
shall now follow you to your arduous station with our best
wishes and our prayers. It must be apparent that you
make no inconsiderable sacrifice of personal ease. At a
period of life when you must have begun to look forward
to a degree of rest from the conflicts of active duty, you
are called on to exchange the comforts of your native city,
and the attentions of a congregation warmly attached to
you, for a land of strangers, and for the difficulties of a
depressed and extensive Diocese. Still, in the labours of
the field on which you enter, you will meet, we trust, with
zealous coadjutors in the clergy and laity, who, in a man-
ner very honourable to yourself, have chosen you for their
Diocesan ; and who have, by this act, pledged themselves
to support you in the fulfilment of your consecration vows,
to extend and to maintain the doctrine, discipline, and wor-
ship of our Church. Among the laity whose talents and
influence will be called to your aid, I perceive some of my
most early and valued friends. From the people generally
among whom you will labour, you will, I am satisfied,
receive every kind attention that can tend to lessen the
burden of your cares. The state of society and manners
among those with whom your future life is to be passed,
LIFK OF BISHOP MODRE. 141
(I speak from some degree of personal knowledge) needs
only the purifying and elevating influence of religion to
become in a high degree interesting, and a source of per-
sonal gratification. But you must look beyond all earthly
aids and consolations, to those which your Lord and Master
only can confer. Should the spirit of unfeigned and bum-
ble piety, regulated and cherished by the sound doctrines,
the primitive order, and the truly evangelical services and
institutions of our Church, be revived in the scene of your
future labours, with what delight shall we all look back
to the service of this day ! And how fervent will be our
thanks to God, who hath made you the instrument of this
great good !"
When the testimonials of Dr. Moore were presented for
signature in the House of Clerical and Lay Deputies, one of
the members rose in his place and declared that on account
of the well known " irregularities," as he was pleased to
style them, of the Dr. in holding lecture room services,
prayer-meetings, &c. he had entertained conscientious
scruples about signing his credentials; but intimated that
he had received such explanations and assurances from the
candidate as had relieved his mind from difficulty and
induced him to give his assent to the consecration. This
circumstance, together with an equivocal passage in Bishop
Hobart's sermon, led some to apprehend that undue
concessions had been made, and that the Bishop would
repudiate the principles and usages by which the ministry
of the Presbyter had been guided. The writer, then a
youthful deacon, formed one of a small circle assembled at
the house of Dr. Pilmore, on the afternoon of the day of
the consecration. That circle was composed of the warm
personal friends of Dr. Moore and his well-known princi-
ples. The rumours and surmises respecting the alleged
142 MEMOIR OF THE
change in his views were incidentally mentioned, but with
regret and incredulity, among other topics of conversation.
At about the same instant the Bishop entered the room;
when Dr. Pilmore, rising from his seat, advanced to meet
him, profoundly bowing in the most formal and ceremo-
nious manner, while he said, substantially, " I feel proud
and happy to welcome the Bishop of Virginia under my
humble roof; we hardly knew, after what we had heard,
whether you would mingle with your old friends any more.'"
The answer was, " Poh ! poh ! my old friend, no more of
that ; you will find me to be the same Richard Moore still."
No explanations were asked, and none were given ; but
if there had been any misgivings on the part of any there,
the whole character of the interview was well adapted to
remove them. At its close, we bowed our knees before
the throne of grace, and united in a fervent prayer offered
up by the newly consecrated Bishop.
'Soon after the adjournment of the General Convention,
he repaired to Richmond ; visiting and preaching at Alex-
andria and Fredericksburg, on his way thither. The chief
object of this visit was to become acquainted with his new
flock, and prepare for the permanent location of his family.
His first impressions respecting the field of his future la-
bours, of the character of the people with whom he was
thenceforth to be connected in the pastoral relation, and of
the field of usefulness opened to him in the diocese, are briefly
noticed in the following letters to Edmund I. Lee, Esq.
Richmond, June 28th. 1814.
My Beloved Sir, — Strange that I should be obliged to
offer to your generous mind, the attentions of those friends
to whom you have introduced me, as a cause for the silence
which I have observed towards you ; but however strange
LIFE OF BISHOP MOORE. 143
it may appear, it is not the less true. The engagements
in which I have been involved since my arrival in this
place, have swallowed up all my time, and prevented me
from expressing to you those grateful sensations with which
your friendship has inspired my mind. To my divine Master
I refer you for remuneration ; may his blessing be the por-
tion of you and yours- I have lamented exceedingly that
my indisposition, while in Alexandria, closed the door of
almost ail communication between your amiable com-
panion and myself; when the head is sick, the heart is
literally faint. When I return, however, to fetch my fa-
mily, I hope I shall enjoy all my usual health, and then
Mrs. Lee and myself will have an opportunity of saying
every thing, which the subject of divine things may sug-
gest. I have written to Mr. Wilmer, requesting him to
return my thanks to those gentlemen who kindly attended
me to Fredericksburg, and to declare to all my acquaint-
ances in Alexandria, the esteem which I entertain for them.
As he is very systematic in his operations, I take it for
granted that he has complied with my wishes. I am at
present at the house of my valued friend, Dr. B. St. Paul,
in his excursions, was never better received, nor more
affectionately treated. I am highly pleased with those
features of vital piety which I discover among the ladies of
this city. So far from being ashamed of religion, or its
illustrious founder, they are proud of giving it that place
to which it is so justly entitled. Remember me to all my
friends in your district. Assure Judge Washington of my
most respectful attentions, and accept for yourself the re-
gard and best wishes of,
Dear sir.
Your obedient friend and servant,
Richard Channing Moore.
144 MEJIOIR OF THE
Richmond, January 24, 1815.
Dear Sir, — The religious prospect which presents itself
to mv view in this city, is, perhaps, as encouraging as I
could reasonably have expected. It has been my object,
since nrty settlement with this congregation, to cultivate a
friendship with the leading families, in order that I might
be able to form an opinion of those features of character
and disposition, by which they are distinguished. This
measure I conceived to be indispensably necessary, as with-
out it, I should never be capable of correctly ascertaining
the best mode of conveying useful instruction to their minds.
The labours of a clergyman, however well meant those la-
bours may be, unless seasoned with prudence, will often
prove, not only abortive, but subversive of the very effect
which he might have intended to produce. A knowledge
of character ought, therefore, to be obtained, if possible, in
order that the surest avenue to the heart and understand-
ing may be discovered and improved. The polite atten-
tion with which myself and family are treated, I consider
as an evidence of the respect they bear to me, and of that
interest which they feel in my personal comfort; and from
the uniform attendance of our first citizens upon my public
labours, I take it for granted that they are disposed to
encourage me in the prosecution of that great work in
which I am engaged. My mode of preaching, you know,
from the small specimen which you have had of it, is evan-
gelical; exposing to view the awful degeneracy of man, and
leading him from every other dependence, to the Lord
Jtsus Christ for succour and salvation. I have hitherto
confined myself to those discourses which I had composed
in i\e\v York, and which God did bless in that city, to the
conversion of many who heard them. Upon the truth of
LIFE OF BISHOP MOORE. 145
those views which they embrace, I am willing to risk my
everlasting all ; and as I have discovered no indisposition
in the people of my present charge to listen to them, I pro-
claim them without reserve. At our last sacrament we
were joined by several new members, and I entertain a
hope that the number will continue to increase. Within
the last month, I have visited the congregation at Peters-
burg, and held a confirmation in that place; and it is with
great pleasure I inform you, that Mr. G. K. T. presented
himself to receive that holy rite, and assured me before I
left his house, that as I had introduced family prayer in his
dwelling, it should be his duty to perpetuate the observance
of it ; indeed, my friend, from all the conversation between
himself and lady, and myself, J am obliged to conclude that
their hearts are deeply affected with divine things. Mr.
W. M,, of this city, has also commenced the practice of
family devotion, and is always in his pew twice upon every
Sabbath. I have lately passed a Sabbath at the Rock
Church, in Hanover, and have been assured by Dr. B.,
who is an eminent Christian, that our labours in that parish
have been sanctified to the souls of several of the inhabi-
tants. As a proof of that sensation which was produced,
he waited upon me a few days since, in company with Mr.
P., of that neighbourhood, in order to inform me that a
subscription had been opened for the support of the Gospel,
and that they were now ready to receive such evangelical
help, as I might be enabled to furnish them with. I have
also been visited, within a few days, by Chancellor T.,and
a Mr. VV., of Cumberland County, who informed me that
a clergyman of piety could be supported in the parishes in
their neighbourhood; and that if the people approve of
the labours of the individual whom I might send, there
was little doubt but a glebe would be purchased for his
M 2
146 MEMOIR OF THE
residence. " The harvest," my beloved sir, " is great, but
the labourers are few; pray ye, therefore, the Lord of the
harvest to send forth labourers into his vineyard." The
affliction with which your city has been visited, in the late
epidemic, and the loss which your Church has sustained, in
the death of several of its members, has excited my sincerest
sympathy ; that God, however, by whose permission it has
been allowed to exercise its desolating effects, can restrain
it the moment he sees fit; and when it shall have accom-
plished the designs of his providence, it will be removed.
The duty, therefore, of his dependent creatures, consists in
submitting to his will, " knowing that all things shall work
together for good to those who love God." The pestilence,
you informed me, entered your dwelling; but Jehovah,
who takes care of you, so restrained it in its operation,
that your dear children have escaped with their lives.
May God, who is rich in mercy, sanctify it to the good of
your souls, and make it instrumental in bringing you nearer
to his throne. Our afllictions, my beloved friend, cannot
advance the happiness of our Creator, they must, there-
fore, be intended to excite in our minds a spirit of vigilance :
to wean us from the world, and to elevate our hearts to
more sublime and never-fading joys.
This world, I have long thought, possesses few charms
worthy the attention of beings destined for immortality;
when therefore I see my fellow-creatures so far degrading
their exalted nature, as to remain satisfied with terrestial
pleasures, my heart sickens at the view ; and I would wil-
lingly take them by the hand, and lead them to reflect upon
happiness more durable and unceasing. Can any of us,
who have tasted of the cup of hunmn folly, say that the
draught which we have taken has proved satisfying? On
the contrary, has not experience proved to u?, that after
LIFE OF BISHOP MOORE. 147
the fullest indulgence, there has a void rennained, which
no earthly hliss could fill? And yet so foolish is the natural
man, that disappointments, though repeated ever so often,
cannot drive him from his purpose, nor stop him in his
course. We, therefore, who have tasted of God's grace,
and have our affections elevated to heavenly pursuits, upon
our knees should thank him for his love, and adore him for
his goodness. Let us press on, then, in the pursuit of glory,
and though the proud philosophers of our day should laugh
at our credulity, and charge us with enthusiasm, we will
tell them, "/^e know that if our earthly house of this ta-
bernacle were dissol.ad, we have a building of God, a
house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens." Re-
member me most affectionately to Mr. Wilmer and Norris.
In these men your city has a blessing; may God long con-
tinue them among you. Give my sincerest regards to Mrs.
Lee, and all my friends ; particularly to Col. De'N., and
several others whose names I cannot recollect, but whose
amiable manners have attached me strongly to them; and
accept for yourself, and for Judge Washington and family,
the assurance of the most perfect esteem.
Yours,
Richard Channing Moore.
In the month of October, having gone through the pain-
ful scenes connected with the sundering of the ties which
had bound him to St. Stephen's, and the taking leave of
his numerous friends in New York, he removed with his
family to Richmond, and entered upon the occupancy of
the new and wider field which Providence had assigned
him. As the remaining chapters of this biography will be
mainly occupied with a view of the Bishop's operations in
the discharge of the higher functions of his Episcopal of-
148 MEMOIR OF THE
fice, it will be proper to devote the remainder of the pre-
sent one to a brief sketch of him as a parochial minister.
The congregation of the Monumental Church compre-
hended probably a larger amount of intelligence and re-
finement, and a greater proportion of men distinguished for
talent and influence, than any congregation in the Union.
But ditTering as it did, in this respect, from the humbler
flocks to which the Bishop had previously ministered, yet
the polished ease and dignity of his deportment, the amia-
ble and Christian courtesy of his spirit, his fascinating con-
versational powers, his nice sense of the proprieties of life,
the bland benevolence of his manners, and above all, his
rigid adherence to the rules which should govern the civil
intercourse of those belonging to the sacred profession, —
made him perfectly at home in his new sphere; and very
soon, won for him the respect, the confidence, the affection
of the entire community.
Previous to his removal there, the principal families of
Richmond composed a kind of joint spiritual charge, watch-
ed over in common by the Rev. Dr. Buchanan, of the Epis-
copal, and by the Rev. Dr. Blair, of the Presbyterian
Church. These venerable men were not remarkable for
strictness of doctrine or rigour of discipline. They held
their services alternately, at the Capitol, ministering to
nearly the same congregation. Neither of them was ani-
mated by a zeal for proselyting which would be likely to
disturb the peace or interfere with the interests of the
other. And in the promiscuous commingling which exist-
ed, the individual hearers were, no doubt, often at a loss
to decide to which flock they belonged, or which pastor
they were bound to follow. Such a state of things could
not fail to prove perplexing to a clergyman who, though
desirous to maintain a friendlv and afiectionate intercourse
LIFE OF BISHOP MOOEE. 149
with Christian people of every name, felt himself restrained
by his ordination vows from indulging liberality at the ex-
pense of prmciple. The opening of the Monumental
Church, however, enabled the new pastor to segregate his
people, and, within its sacred walls, to train Ihem to habits
of attachment to the doctrines, discipline, and worship of
the Church.
The laxity of religious principle and practice which had
so long prevailed among the people, and their unacquain-
tance with those plain exhibitions of truth which are given in
a faithful and uncompromising ministry, might have been a
temptation to some clergymen to hold back the more offen-
sive doctrines of the gospel, and to soften down the asperity
of its precepts, in accommodation to the ignorance and preju-
dices, not to say the corruptions, of their hearers. Such, how-
ever, was not the case with the subject of this memoir. He
knew the tenor of the commission he had received as an am-
bassador of Christ. His embassy was to rebellious men, whom
he was to entreat, in Christ's behalf, to be reconciled to God
The message which he was to deliver was the same which
had been entrusted to him from on high. He saw, in the
congregation before him, a company of sinners alienated
from God, condemned by his law, and exposed to the seve-
rity of his curse. If he failed to say to the wicked, " O
wicked man, thou shalt surely die," and so warn him of his
danger, that he should turn from his wickedness and live ;
that wicked man should die in his iniquity, but his blood
would be required at the pastor's hands. While, there-
fore, he denounced God's wrath against the impenitent, and
assured them that they must repent or perish ; he delight-
ed to announce " the faithful saying and worthy of all ac-
ceptation, that Christ Jesus came into the world to save
fiinners." He knew that the Gospel makes no distinction of
150 MEMOIR OF THE
persons. It proclaims a common salvation to those who are
involved in a common ruin. It teaches the same lesson to
the philosopher and to the simpleton. It demands the same
humiliation of the rich and the poor. It offers salvation upon
the same terms to the moral and the vicious, to the decent
and the vile. And while it declares that " every mouth
must be stopped, and the whole world become guilty before
God ;" it declares no less plainly that Christ " is able to
save unto the uttermost," and that " whosoever cometh unto
him he will in no wise cast out." The Gospel, therefore,
can undergo no change; and admits of no accommodation
of its essential principles to suit the variety of taste and
character in the different congregations to which it is to be
proclaimed. Bishop Moore preached the same gospel to
his intellectual and refined congregation in Richmond, which
he had been accustomed to address to his plainer and more
unsophisticated hearers on Staten Island and in New York.
" By the manifestation of the truth he commended himself
to every man's conscience in the sight of God.'* The gos-
pel of Christ crucified, preached by his lips, proved the
power of God unto salvation. And although the success of
his parochial ministry in the capital of Virginia, was not
equal to that which crowned his earlier labours in other
places, yet his heart was often encouraged by the addition
of new converts to his communion, and the congregation of
the Monumental Church became one of the largest and
most devout in the diocese.
He often, during life, lamented the comparative un-
fruitfulness of his labours there. But since his decease, it
has pleased God to visit that congregation with a season of
" refreshing," as the result of which large numbers have
been added to the company of the faithful. In some of
these, doubtless, we behold the springing up of that seed
LIFE OF BISHOP MOOEE. 151
sown during his ministry of many years. While partaking
of the labour and the joy connected with that revival, the
writer could not but indulge the belief that, as the young
man was revived by touching the bones of the Prophet, —
so the signs of spiritual life manifested in the new converts
might, under God, be ascribed to the instrumentality of the
departed Father, who "being dead, yet speaketh" through
Ihem to the living generation. It was delightful to reflect
that the spirit of that loved one was hovering over the scene,
as an interested spectator of its hopes and joys; and was con-
stantly receiving new accessions to its happiness and bliss,
as one after another, his spiritual children gave their
hearts to the Saviour, and consecrated their all to his ser-
vice.
During the whole of his twenty-seven years ministry in
Richmond, he preached the word with fidelity and zeal,
"in season and out of season ;" and might truly have
declared to his people at its close, " ye know, from the first
day that I came, after what manner I have been with
you at all seasons ; serving the Lord with all humility of
mind, and with many tears and temptations ; and how I
kept back nothing that was profitable unto you, but have
showed you, and have taught you publicly, and from house
to house, — testifying repentance towards God, and faith
towards our Lord Jesus Christ .... Wherefore, I take
you to record this day, that I am pure from the blood of
all men; for I have not shunned to declare unto you all the
counsel of God." His zeal and faithfulness in the pulpit,
were equalled only by the tender and aflTectionate assiduity
with which all his parochial duties were discharged. When
the infirmities of advanced years rendered confinement to
study and the preparation of sermons irksome to him, he
acquired the habitof regular, daily visitations to the people
1 53 MEMOIR OF THE
of his charge. He was prompt in repairing to the chambers
of the sick, and to the bed-side of the dying. And being,
from the benevolence of his heart and the tenderness of his
nature, ever ready to weep with those who wept, and to
rejoice with those who rejoiced, he appeared Hke an angel
of mercy, in his proper element amidst scenes of affliction
and was always a welcome visiter to the sorrow-stricken
and bereaved. Never, probably, did a Christian minister,
by his fidelity and love in the discharge of pastoral duties,
establish a stronger claim to the affection and attach-
ment of his people, or enjoy them more fully, than the late
beloved Rector of the Monumental Church.
But it was not his own people alone that loved him. So
free was he from all the asperities of sectarianism and
bigotry ; — so pleasing, condescending, and affable in his
manners; so overflowing with the milk of human kindness
was his heart, and so lustrous with purity and benevolence
was his life — that Christians of every name gloried in him,
as a lovely example of the religion they professed, and
cheerfully yielded to him the \^nrm tribute of veneration
and regard.
A beautiful illustration of this was afforded when on the
first of January 1835, he received as a New Fear's gift, a
splendid copy of the New Testament printed in golden
letters, on porcelain paper, accompaincd with the following
inscription.
"Presented to the Right Rev. R. C. Moore, by the
citizens of Richmond, members of the different religious
denominations, as a tribute of their affectionate regard and
esteem, for one who has so long and so carefully devoted
his life to the great cause of Christianity."
The following is the Bishop's acknowledgment of the
gift:
LIFE OF BISHOP MOOBE. 153
January 5th, 1835,
TO MESSRS. JOHN D. LAY, AND VVM. MITCHELL.
Dear Brethren, — The truly elegant and acceptable copy
of the New Testament presented to me as a new year's
present, by one hundred of my fellow citizens of different
denominations of Christians in this city, has been received:
and I can assure you with great truth, that Ihey could not
have conferred on me any favour which would have so richly
entitled them to my sincere gratitude and thanks. It is,
gentlemen, the charter deed of our salvation ; a deed sealed
with the blood of the precious lamb of God : and it is my
sincere prayer that all the promises of happiness it con-
tains may be realized by those who, in my old age, have
afforded me so great an evidence of their filial affection and
regard. That the present year may prove a happy year,
and abound with heavenly blessings, and temporal comforts
to you, and all the families of the kind donors of the Sacred
Volume, is the fervent prayer, dear brethren, of
Your old friend and fellow citizen,
R. C. Moore.
The cost of the Testament was fifty dollars ; and that
the number of donors might be many, no individual was
allowed to contribute more than fifty cents. In this grate-
ful act of public regard, even some Jews and Romanists
gladly united. It was an act which solaced the Bishop's
mind amid the trials of a sick bed, to which he was then
confined, and afforded him the highest gratification in the
review. The nature of the gift and the feelings by which
it was prompted, imparted to it an inestimable value. Ft
is difficult to say to which the circumstance was most
H
1 54 MEMOIB OF THE
honourable — the recipient of the favour, or the community
by which it was bestowed.
Bishop Moore was so long a resident of Richmond, that
his person was well known to almost all its inhabitants.
He was considered as a kind of Patriarch in the city ; of
whom all were proud, as one of its greatest ornaments.
As he moved to and fro through the streets, on his frequent
visits to the Church, and other errands of devotion and
benevolence, — with his silvery locks floating upon the
breeze, and his devout countenance lifted to the heavens,
his venerable aspect commanded the attention of behold-
ers, and called forth the tokens of homage which uncor-
rupted youth and virtuous manhood ever pay to the hoary
head when found in the way of righteousness. Even child-
hood paused in its sports and suspended its recreations as
he passed, to gaze on him with gladness, as one to be
venerated and loved. The thoughtless and giddy votaries
of mammon or pleasure might sneer at his piety, and scoff
at what they deemed his credulity and superstition ; — yet
as he passed through the busy throng, occupied with re-
flections and pursuits widely different from theirs; — even
they, doubtless, thought, at times, that their condition was
bettered by the kindly warmth of his charity, and that
they were, perhaps, indebted for their preservation to the
influence of his prayers. Even the criminal and vicious, to
whom his principles and life had been a constant reproof,
would deem his removal a common loss; producing a blank
which could not easily be filled. For, the wicked, who
affect to despise the righteous man living, often mourn his
death as a public calamity. Accordingly, when the
Bishop's death was announced, there were few indeed in
that community who did not feel as if they had lost a father
and a friend. Almost the entire population of the city
LIFE OF BISHOP MOORE. 155
joined the funeral procession which followed his remains to
their last resting place, and mingled their tears over his
sepulchre.
The following eloquent extract from the funeral address,
by one who for several years shared with him in the cares
and responsibilities of the pastoral office, will form an ap-
propriate conclusion to this imperfect sketch of Bishop
Moore's parochial ministry in Richmond.
"But it is in his parochial character as rector of the
Monumental Church congregation that he is best known
and most beloved in Richmond. His pastoral labours here
for 27 years have exceedingly endeared him to this congre-
gation. Gentle, am.iable, kind and courteous, with a heart
full to overflowing with benevolence, with a charity which
included in the wide circle of his affection all the lost world
for whom the Redeemer died — always under the influence
of the most kindly feeling for all men and the tenderest
sympathy for the afliicted, he associated with the people
as their spiritual father and guide. He delighted in the
Gospel ; Christ crucified was his constant theme, and he
loved especially to dwell in his preaching on the bright and
cheering topics of Christianity. The mercy of God, the
tender and kind invitations of the Saviour, the soothing
consolations of religion, and its glorious hopes, constituted
the burthen of his preaching, and when set forth with great
animation, the most moving pathos, in an eloquent style of
composition, aided by a delightful voice and fine manner,
gave to his preaching a peculiar charm which all appre-
ciated. He dearly loved the Liturgy of the Church, and
as in its eloquent and holy strains he presented to God the
prayers and praises of his people, he often wept. Love to
God and love to man dwelt in his bosom and pervaded his
conversation and sermons. He could seldom speak of the
156 MEMOIR OF THE
dying love of Christ without tears ; and, like the beloved
Apostle, whom Jesus most loved, and whom he greatly re-
sembled in character, the prevailing sentiment of this aged
Minister of Christ, during his latter years, was " httle chil-
dren, love one another." O ! that his bereaved people may
remember and obey this godly admonition. They all love
him, and well they may; for there are few of the younger
part of them whom he did not receive in those arms now
cold and stiffin death, and at the baptismal font dedicate
them to God's service and admit them into the Church of
Christ, and make them heirs of all the precious promises
of the Christian Covenant. O ! that they may never forget
the obligations then assumed for them, and that they may
not, by failure to comply with the conditions of salvation,
forfeit that rich inheritance, the title to which was then
bestowed upon them. Most of those of his flock who now
mourn his loss, also had their earthly happiness cemented
by him in holy matrimony. The large body of communi-
cants now worshipping in the Monumental Church, were
all, with very few exoe|)tions, admitted to that sacred means
of grace by the imposition of his hands in the Apostolic and
beautiful rite of confirmation. Often have they assembled
around that chancel before which his venerated remains so
lately lay cold in the embrace of death, and seen that much
loved form instinct with life, within their kneeling circle,
and heard that gentle and dear voice, now silent forever,
invite them, in the most affectionate tones, to the spiritual
feast of the Lord, and receive from his hands the emblems
of the crucified body and shed blood of their dying Redeem-
er. Brethren, let the memory of these consecrated scenes
of the communion of saints never fade from your minds,
and never forget the faithful teaching of this godly old man.
Few among you, who so lately followed this beloved pastor
LIFE OF BISHOP MOOKE. 157
to his last resting place on earth, have not been led by him
to that city of the dead where his dust will lie until sum-
moned, on the resurrection morn, by the Archangel's trump,
to a new and eternal life, and have there seen him commit
your loved ones to the grave in the solemn service of your
church, and with the trembling accents of the deepest
sympathy and tenderest love. Remember, also, these
solemn scenes, and O, prepare to follow them to the tomb,
and him to the bliss of Heaven ! He loved social and
friendly intercourse with his people, and all have enjoyed
his sprightly and cheerful conversations, and heard his
fatherly advice and spiritual encouragement around their
firesides.
" Never did the writer, whose opportunities of observation ,
have been constant, during the last five years, know a
minister who equalled Bishop Moore, in the kindness, fre-
quency, and efficacy of his attentions to the sick and afflic-
ted. The gentleness and kindness of his manner, the depth
of his sympathy, the soothing character of his conversation,
his happy and tender mode of presenting the consolations of
the Gospel, all accompanied by prayers of the most appro-
priate character, and of remarkable fervour, rendered this
department of his parochial duties eminently pleasing and
useful. Truly did he love his dear people, as he was wont
to call them : He was the friend of them all. How often
has the writer heard him mourn over those of them who
are impenitent, seen him weep for them ; and heard his
ejaculatory prayers ascend to God on their behalf! How
often has he seen him bear the communicants of his flock
in his heart, and on his lips to the throne of grace, and pray
God to strengthen their faith, and confirm them in all
Christian graces, and in all good works !
" Who can withhold the tribute of admiration for such
n2
158 MEMOIR OF THE LIFE OF BISHOP MOOEE.
a character; who would desire a more enviahle lot than his?
Enjoying for fifty-four years the high privilege of declaring
the glad tidings of the Gospel to ransomed sinners — beloved
by all, eminently successful both in his ministry and in his
Episcopate, without enemies, his death has been like his
life, gentle, calm, full of love, and hope, and peace. Let
it be repeated, he had no enemies, for he was just and up-
right in all his dealings, he had a tender regard for the re-
putation and feelings of all, and never spoke evil of any :
and who could cherish aught but love and reverence for
one so full of love to all? The citizens of Richmond loved
to see his venerable form and benevolent face as he walked
the streets. His best eulogium is the love and veneration
of the whole population of Richmond — the tears of the
immense assembly that thronged the Church at his funeral;
yes, of all, old men and matrons, young men and maidens
and children. Who can forget the sobs which were heard
throughout that vast crowd? Who was not impressed by
the unparalleled multitudes which swelled his far-lengthened
funeral procession ?"
CHAPTER V.
From 1814 to 1829.
The views and spirit with which Bishop Moore entered upon the duties
of his Episcopate. Notices of the early success of his labours. An Epis-
copate fund proposed. Formation of Prayer Book and Tract Society.
Rev. Benjamin Allen's labours. Measures taken to promote theological
education in connexion with William and Mary College. Founding
of Theological School, and the Education Society. Brief sketch of the
history of both. Fashionable amusements and lay discipline. View of
Bible Societies, and letters relating to them. His ardent love for the
Liturgy, and desire to have it strictly adhered to in his Diocese. Opposi-
tion to proposed changes in it. Letters on the Liturgy. Baptismal Re-
generation, &c. His views relating to the removals of Clergymen from
one parish to another. Episcopal services in North Carolina. Death of
Rev. Messrs. Norris and Wilmer. Rumours of his wish to retire from
the Diocese. His desire for an Assistant Bishop. Dr. Meade elected,
with an objectionable restriction, which was afterwards removed. Con-
secrated in 1829.
The lovely example of zeal, faithfulness, and success in
pastoral duties, exhibited in the life of Bishop Moore, so
imperfectly sketched in the preceding chapter, was but
a counterpart of the exhibition of the like qualities in
the performance of the higher functions of his Episcopal
oflGice. In addressing ourselves to this part of our work,
which will require, not only a notice of prominent events
in the history of his diocese, but also a view of the prin-
ciples by which he was guided, the policy he adopted, and
the motives which prompted him in the discharge of his
important duties as a Bishop in the Church of God, a wide
field is opened before us; and it will be difficult to confine
160 MEMOIR OF THE
ourselves within the limits allotted to the present memoir ;
but we shall study brevity, so far as it may be consistent
with the faithful performance of the duty of a biographer.
The first Episcopal act performed by Dr. Moore, as
Bishop of Virginia, was the consecration of his newly erected
parish church to the service of Almighty God. This was
soon after his removal to Richmond ; and before the close
of his ministry, the number of Episcopalians had so increased
in that city of his habitation, that he had the pleasure of
setting apart to the same sacred use, two other edifices —
Christ, and St. James' Churches. Though a large portion
of the tirst year of the Bishop's residence in Virginia was
necessarily occupied by the duties of his parochial charge,
yet was he enabled, by the grace of God, to accomplish
much for the welfare of other parishes, and to enter upon
that course of Episcopal visitations which he maintained
ever afterwards with exemplary energy and zeal, till he
was compelled to intermit them, in some measure, by the
visitations of infirmity and disease.
In his address to the Convention of 1815, he reports that
he had visited several of the parishes, confirmed 180 per-
sons, received four candidates for orders, admitted two to
the diaconate, and one to the priesthood, and consecrated
one church besides the Monumental. " The visitations I
have made," says the Bishop, " though very circumscribed,
have enabled me to form some view of the state of our eccle-
siastical concerns, and from that view, I think myself justi-
fied in drawing the most pleasing conclusions. In every
parish which I have visited, I have discovered the most
animated wish in the people to repair the waste places of
our Zion, and to restore the Church of their fathers to its
primitive purity and excellence."
" The apostolic rite of confirmation, which I have ad-
LIFE OF BISHOP MOOEE. 161
ministered in several parishes, wag received by people of
all ages with the greatest joy, and a general principle of
union and exertion was, upon those occasions, universally
expressed. Parishes which have been destitute of minis-
terial aid for many years, which had slumbered until the
warmest friends of the Church conceived it to have been
the sleep of death, have, in two instances, been awakened
from that state of torpor in which they were involved, and
have arisen in all the vigour of perfect health. The younger
clergy of this diocese, who, from their youth and spiritual
attainments, are well qualified for the glorious work, have
exerted themselves in a manner deserving the most honour-
able mention. They have carried the standard of the
Lord Jesus Christ through a considerable portion of this
Church ; they have gone out into the highways and hedges,
preaching the truths of their divine Master ; and by their
holy conversation with the people, have adorned the Gospel
of Christ. A number of their elder brethren, though pre-
vented by age from using the same exertion, have laboured
with fidelity, and contributed their best efforts to promote
that work which has been entrusted to their hands. The
laity have been equally assiduous in the discharge of that
duty peculiar to their station — the duty of providing for
the ministers of religion. May Heaven reward them for
their labours of love ; and may every cup of cold water
which they have given to a disciple, in the name of a dis-
ciple, receive a disciple's reward."
The address concluded with the following solemn and
earnest appeal: "My brethren of the clergy, — The wel-
fare and advancement of our Zion depend upon our joint
and vigorous exertions. Great is the duty imposed upon
us, and great is the responsibility of that character we fill,
as ministers of the Gospel of peace, if there ever was a
162 MEMOIR OF THE
period in which exertion was necessary ; and if there ever
was a period which bid fair to crown that exertion with
success, this is the time. Though few in number, yet de-
pending for support upon the promises of God, we may look
for an abundant blessing upon our labours. Jehovah has
promised to be with his Church to the end of the world :
and he will fulfil his declaration. The parishes are invo-
king our aid. 0, listen, I beseech you, to their numerous
entreaties ! ' Be steadfast, then : be unmoveable, always
abounding in the work of the Lord, and your labour shall
not be in vain in the Lord.' "
A diocese entering upon its new career under such aus-
pices, having at its head a successor to the apostolic office
animated by the apostolic spirit, seconded by a small band
of clergymen distinguished for zeal and devotion in their
Master's work, countenanced and cheered by the hearty
co-operation of a few intelligent and pious laymen scattered
throughout the parishes ; and above all, relying for success
in the great work of reviving the Church, upon the pro-
mised blessing and presence of its Divine Head, could not
fail to be prospered.
Accordingly, we find the Bishop, in his address to the
Convention of 1816, employing this strong language of con-
gratulation and hope: " It is with the most sincere happi-
ness I inform you, that the Protestant Episcopal Church in
the diocese of Virginia, presents to the view of her friends
a prospect truly encouraging. The clouds of adversity,
which for years have overspread her horizon, appear to be
dispersing, and our Zion, animated by the beams of the Sun
of Righteousness, is recovering from her desolations, exhibit-
ing the most heart-cheering evidences of returning health
and vigour."
During this year, Episcopal visitations were made to the
riFE OF BISHOP MOOHE. 163
northern parts of the diocese, and to the Churches west of
the Blue Ridge, and the apostolic rite of confirmation was
administered to about 750; several vacant parishes were
supplied with devoted ministers, and five were admitted to
holy orders. Twenty parishes, which, at the time of Dr.
Moore's consecration, were destitute, were now reported as
being favoured with the stated services of the sanctuary,
performed either by ordained ministers, or by pious can-
didates for orders, licensed as lay readers.
At the Convention of 1816, an important measure was
proposed, by a most respectable committee of three clergy-
men and three laymen, in relation to the providing of a
permanent support for the Episcopate. '• Our venerable
Bishop," says the Report of the Committee, " has diffused,
through various and remote parts, a portion of that zeal
which animates his labours. But the duties of his paro-
chial charge necessarily limit the sphere of his usefulness.
It appears to us, therefore, necessary, as well in order to
give full effect to his Episcopal ministrations, as to derive
the benefits contemplated by the Convention, that some
mode be devised by which he may be rendered independent
of any parochial charge. By this means every part of the
Church may occasionally enjoy the benefits of the public
ordinances, and of the Episcopal functions; and thus, being
enabled to pervade every part of the diocese, he will have
it in his power to encourage the desponding, to rouse the
thoughtless, to give direction to the zeal and energy of the
pious, and to impress upon the whole system a salutary im-
pulse."
This important proposal, though often renewed and dis-
cussed in subsequent Conventions, was never carried into
full effect. The late Bishop was always earnest in its ad-
vocacy, not with a view to his own ease or emolument,
164 MEHOIR OF THE
(for it was very improbable that he would live long enough
to receive any benefit from the fund,) but to secure the in-
dependence of the office, and the comfort of those who
might be his successors in it. For want of such provision,
he afterwards generously relinquished one thousand or fif-
teen hundred dollars of his salary as Rector, for the sup-
port of an assistant in the Monumental Church, that he
might devote more of his attention to the duties of his
Episcopal charge. The majority of the Convention, per-
suaded that the endowment of the Theological Seminary and
of the High School, was an object of more pressing neces-
sity, believed that the raising of the Episcopal Fund might
safely be deferred till that was accomplished. It is hoped,
however, that the day is not distant, when ample provision
will be made in that wealthy and extensive diocese, for re-
lieving the Bishop from the necessity of assuming a paro-
chial charge, or of depending upon the precarious support
to be derived from the voluntary annual contributions of
the parishes.
At the same Convention a society was instituted for the
distribution of Prayer-Books and Tracts in the Diocese of
Virginia, which still continues in successful operation, and
has proved a valuable auxiliary in the revival and exten-
sion of the Church. The publications of this society have
found their way to many a destitute neighbourhood or so-
litary residence, never reached by the living missionary,
and have there borne silent but effective testimony for
Christ and his Church. The proposer of this institution,
BENJAMm Allepj, Jun., then a lay delegate from St. An-
drew's parish, JetTerson county, deserves a passing notice in
this memoir. A young man of genius, enterprise, and
energy, he had left his native state of New York, and visit-
ed Virginia, it is believed, in pursuit of occupation as a
LIFE OF BISHOP MOORE. 165
teacher of youth. His previous ecclesiastical connex-
ion had been with the Presbyterians, but being con-
vinced of the superior claims of Episcopacy, he became
a candidate for orders in the Church ; and having been
licensed as lay reader, he journeyed on foot, with his bun-
dle upon his back, and commenced his labours in the rich
and beautiful valley lying between the Potomac and the
Shenandoah, west of the Blue Ridge. Charlestown and
Shephardstown were the two principal scenes of his minis-
try; but, with true missionary zeal, he extended his labours
to several destitute places in the vicinity. He remained
there for several years after his ordination, and was the in-
strument, in God's hands, of causing several churches to be
erected and of gathering within their walls large congre-
gations of devout worshippers. Having accomplished this
important work in the diocese of Virginia, he, on the de-
cease of Dr. Pilmore, accepted a call to the rectorship of
St. Paul's Church, Philadelphia. Of his ministry there we
propose not to speak, farther than to say, that he was the
chief agent in the introduction of the late Dr. Bedell to the
scene of his successful ministry, and in the erection of St.
Andrew's Church. All the good which has resulted from the
erection of that church and the successful labours of its
first distinguished rector, should, under God, be ascribed to
the disinterested benevolence and holy zeal of the Rev.
Benjamin Allen. His life affords a memorable example of
the good which may be effected by moderate abilities, sanc-
tified by grace, and under the direction of a heart anima-
ted by the love of God and of souls. Mr. Allen died on
his return voyage from England, whither he had gone for
the benefit of his health, in the year 1828.*
• The writer has been informed, by what he deems good authority, ihat
a coarse of lectures delivered by Mr. A. in Kendall, England, k d to the
166 MEMOIR OF THE
It was clearly perceived, by those who were engaged in
the good work of resuscitating and extending the Church
in Virginia, that a large supply of faithful, devoted, and
well-qualified ministers of the cross was indispensable to
the success of their noble undertaking. And at this early
period, before any Theological Seminary connected with
our Church had been established at the North, incipient
measures were taken in Virginia to provide the means for
the education of candidates for orders in an institution of
its own. The most liberal views were entertained in re-
ference to this important subject, and, so far as we are in-
formed, the diocese of Virginia is entitled to the credit of
taking tlie lead in the cause of theological education in t!ie
Protestant Episcopal Church in the United States. That
some of its members were disposed to enter upon a mea-
sure of such vital interest with pious zeal and comprehen-
sive views, is manifest from the following extract from an
address of the Standing Committee entered upon the Jour-
nalof 1816.
" The Convention of 1815 received a communication from
the President of William and Mary College upon the ex-
pediency of establishing a theological professorship in that
institution. Whether this important object will ever be
accomplished will depend entirely, under the blessing of
God, upon the liberality and zeal of the friends of the
Church in providing for it a suitable fund. For the pre-
sent we submit the subject for consideration, and ask your
aid and advice at our next Convention in organizing a plan
which may embrace a charity so extensive and useful.
establishment of Bible classes by members of the Society of Friends, and
gave the first impulse to the numerous conversions which have taken place
from that Society to the Church within the last few years.
LIFE OF BISUOP MOORE. 167
" When the number and wealth of Episcopalians in Vir-
ginia are considered, we cannot but believe that these seve-
ral objects" (the support of the episcopate and the esta-
blishment for theological education) " will be cherished, and
that our Church, which is behind none in the purity of her
doctrines and the excellence of her forms, will be behind
none in successful efforts towards carrying into effect the
several parts of her religious and literary institutions. And
surely, in the long list of distinguished supporters, a pecu-
liar honour will rest on those who, placed highest in rank
and station, have associated their greatness, and consecra-
ted some portion of their wealth, to such objects ; and who
will perceive that, in rallying round the standard of reli-
gion, they are upholding that which is not only the best
security and guard of social order, but is also the promise
and pledge of a felicity above the warmest conceptions of
the human imagination."
In the foregoing extract we behold the ge7'm of the Theo-
logical Seminary of Virginia. From that period the sub-
ject of theological education was not lost sight of. And this
may be the most appropriate place for presenting a con-
nected view of the progressive steps which resulted in the
establishment of a " school of the pr ophe ts," which proved a
most valuable auxiliary to the depa^^kBishop in securing
the permanent establishment and continued prosperity of
the Church in Virginia.
The Rev. Reuel Keith, a graduate of Middlebury Col-
lege in Vermont, who towards the close of his education
had been baptized and received into the Church by the
present writer, having been ordained deacon by Bishop
Moore, in 1817, commenced his ministerial labours in
Georgetown, D. C. After a successful ministry there of
three years, he was appointed Professor in William and
168 3IEM0IR OF THE
Mary College, and Rector of Bruton Parish, Williamsburg.
In conformity with the proposal made by the authorities of
the college in 1815, the benefits of theological educa-
tion were now ofTered to candidates for orders gratuitously.
The Convention of 1821, impressed with the importance of
making more ample provision for the instruction of candi-
dates for orders, and of retaining for this purpose, within
the State, all such as might be disposed to devote them-
selves to the sacred ministry, resolved to establish a theo-
logical school at Williamsburg : appointed a Board of Trus-
tees for its government, selected an Agent to solicit sub-
scriptions throughout the diocese for its support, and also
directed the Board of Trustees to enter into a correspond-
ence with the Standing Committees of Maryland and North
Carolina, in order to ascertain whether the members of our
Church in those states would co-operate with Virginia in
the support of the institution. The agent met with en-
couraging success in the collection of funds, having received
subscriptions amounting to more than 10,000 dollars. No
answer was received from North Carolina, and that from
Maryland was unfavourable to the location of the school at
W'illiamsburg.
There was, in thi^^vement, no feeling of hostility to the
General Seminarv^^Bch had been previously established
at New Haven, but simply the carrying into effect of a
design entertained several years before. All unfriendliness
and rivalry was disavowed by a resolution of the Conven-
tion. And the founding of the seminary was but the ex-
ercise of a right, which, by general consent, pertained to
every diocese in the Union, which had been previously
exercised by that of New York, and has since been by
those of Ohio and Kentucky.
Acting upon this generally conceded principle, the Mary-
LIFE OF BISHOP MOORE. 169
land Convention, in 1822, resolved to establish a theologi-
cal seminary for that diocese, and elected a Board of Trus-
tees. The measure seemed to be received with much fa-
vour by the Cliurch, and as the result of a partial applica-
tion to the parishes, a subscription of several thousand dol-
lars was obtained towards the endowment of the institution.
But a high party excitement was gotten up in opposition
to the measure, as a consequence of which, the Convention
of 1823 resolved to repeal the act of the preceding Con-
vention, and to release the subscribers from their obliga-
tions.
This reverse was a sad trial to the friends of the pro-
posed institution in Maryland. But in this instance, as in
many others, it was manifest that while " man appoints,
God disappoints;" and the Great Head of the Church over-
ruled the disappointment for the welfare of his cause and
the glory of his name. The friends of theological educa-
tion in Maryland and Virginia, who sympathized in their
riews of Christian doctrine and ecclesiastical policy, and
favoured the training up of ministers in the midst of the
people for whose benefit they were to labour, and with
whose character, habits and institutions it was, therefore,
important that they should be acquainted, — thus strangely
prevented from accomplishing their flfly)y separate action,
were enabled to combine their effbrt^TO the promotion of
a common cause, through the medium of " the Education
Society," which was a voluntary association, general in its
character, and governed by a Board of Managers, in which
the members of the Church in the two neighbouring dio-
ceses were equally represented.
That society instituted in 1818, was originally styled the
Education Society of the District of Columbia, afterwards
the Education Society of Maryland and Virginia, and was
o2
170 MEMOIR OF THE
finally so enlarged in the sphere of its operations as proper-
ly to assume the title of " the Society for the Education of
Pious and Indigent Young Men for the Ministry of the Pro-
testant Episcopal Church." This is not the place to speak
at large of its plans and operations. But we may be per-
mitted to state that young men from all parts of the Union
have been numbered among its beneficiaries, and nearly
one-tenth part of the ministers of the Protestant Episcopal
Church in the United States have derived aid from its funds
in the acquirement of their theological training.
While located at Williamsburg, the theological school
was vk^eak and languishing : and the Trustees, in October,
1823, transferred it to Alexandria, D. C, where Professor
Keith soon gathered around him thirteen candidates for or-
ders, and received efficient aid in his important work by
the voluntary services of the Rev. Dr. Wilmer, in the de-
partment of Systematic Divinity, and of the Rev. Oliver
Norris, in that of Pastoral Theology. The churchmen of
Maryland, highly approving of the new location of the
Seminary, resolved to give it their cordial support and co-
operation through the medium of the Education Society.
A large proportion of the subscribers to the Maryland
Seminary cheerfully transferred their subscriptions to the
Society. By this n|Akis the managers were enabled to en-
large the number of their beneficiaries ; and when it was
resolved to purchase a farm and transfer the Seminary to
its present beautiful site, they loaned money to aid in the
erection of buildings, and pledged themselves for the sup-
port of an additional professorship. Thus, without any con-
flict or jealousy between the two dillerent Boards, the great
work of theological education in which they jointly and
harmoniously co-operate, has been more successfully prose-
cuted than it could have been if (he plans originally
LIFE OF BISHOP MOORE. 171
adopted had been carried into effect without opposition and
without disappointment, by the respective parties.
Ever since the removal of the Seminary to its present
location, about three miles from Alexandria, in lS27,it has
gone on increasing in popularity and usefulness; enjoying
the favour of the Church and the blessing of God. Upon
its farm of seventy acres there is erected a central build-
ing, containing library, refectory, and recitation rooms,
with two wings for the accommodation of the students : a
chapel, and three houses for the professors and their families.
The beneficial influence of this school of the prophets has
by no means been confined to the diocese in which it is
located. Its Alumni are found scattered through different
and distant states ; and so successfully has the spirit of mis-
sions been cultivated there through the medium of its
"Society of Inquiry," &.c. that of the eleven foreign missiona-
ries of our Church, seven, — and of those in heathen lands,
all, — were prepared for their work at the Virginia Semi-
nary.
Bishop Moore felt a warm interest in this favourite insti-
tution of his Diocese. At its annual examinations he uni-
formly attended, and was deeply solicitous that all who
received its honours should be scribes well-instructed in the
kingdom of God, " workmen that peed not be ashamed,
rightly dividing the word of truth." And, as the classes
of its Alumni, one after another, received, through the im-
position of his hands, authority to minister in holy things,
his heart glowed with gratitude to Almighty God that his
diocese was favoured with such a nursery of faithful minis-
ters of Christ. He was not taken to his rest till this valuable
institution was placed upon a stable foundation. He saw
it, from small beginnings, under the care of able and skil-
ful professors, rapidly advancing to eminence and useful-
172
MEMOIR OF THE
ness; and every friend of the Church should pray that its
progress may continue to be onward, now that the hoary
head of the first President of its Board of Trustees is laid
low in the dust.
While the Bishop and his associates were prompt and
energetic in the adoption and prosecution of measures which
would increase the number of the clergy, and meet the
growing demand for the enlargement and extension of the
Church, they displayed no less wisdom and energy in pro-
viding for \i?, purity, and were mainly anxious that the ex-
ercise of apostolic discipline i\\o\x\d. preserve the conquests
which might, from time to time, be achieved by the autho-
rized preachers of apostolic doctrine. Not only were
canons adopted to guard the ministry against the intru-
sion of unqualified men, and to purge it from the disgrace
which might be brought upon it by the misconduct of the
unworthy holders of a divine commission, but measures
were also taken to keep the laity faithful to their Chris-
tian profession, and induce all who " named the name of
Christ to depart from iniquity."
A looseness of discipline had so long prevailed in the
Church of Virginia, that it was a work of great difliculty
for those who preached the doctrines of salvation to illy
instructed congregations, to induce them to adopt the rigid
discipline of a godly life. Many of the communicants had
been accustomed freely to mingle with others in the ordi-
nary gayeties and pleasure of fashionable life. The truly
pious, among both clergy and laity, grieved over this state
of things as highly injurious to the interests of the Church,
and were exceedingly desirous that none should be admitted
to the holy communion who would not renounce all those
indulgences and pleasures which are inconsistent with the
Christian profession, and which are virtually abjured in
LIFE OF BISHOP MOORE. 173
the baptismal vow, to " renounce the pomps and vanities of
this wicked world." In this right feeling the Bishop warm-
ly participated ; and notwithstanding his strong reluctance
to adopt any measures which might be deemed censurably
rigorous or compulsory, he was desirous to adopt every
lawful means, not deemed by him inconsistent with charity
and prudence, for clearing the Church of the reproach
brought upon her by the inconsistent lives and worldly con-
formity of some who approached her altars. His views, in
reference to this delicate and difficult point, are expressed
in the following letter to a friend :
Richmond, Oct. 23, 1817.
Dear Sir, — The information you have received, relative
to a correspondence between Mr. Jefferson and myself, is
without foundation, would to God ! that his mind was
favourably impressed towards Christianity, and that by
some magnanimous effort, he would restore to the religion
of our fathers, the many who have been led into skepti-
cism, through the influence of his opinions. A lady assured
me a few days since that he is a Socinian; and from some
things which have met my eye, I take it for granted her
report is true. I cordially concur with you in your views
of Church discipline, and am fully of opinion, that we may
with equal propriety attempt to serve God and mammon,
as to reconcile an indulgence in fashionable amusements,
with the divine life; but the remedy, the remedy — how is it
to be applied 1 In this city, much as I wish to check the
evil, I confess myself at a loss how to proceed. A tender
father will use every persuasion with a disobedient child,
and will bear long with his perverseness, before he will
turn him out of doors. His affection for his children,
makes him tremble at the effects which austerity might
174 MEMOIR OF THE
produce. He is afraid that an expulsion from his society
would give rise to a reaction dreadful in its tendency, and
expose his offspring to evils incalculably great ! A minis-
ter of the Gospel is enjoined to instruct with meekness,
those who oppose themselves : and it is his duty, " knowin g
the terrors of the Lord, to persuade men." Although he is
bound to be thus prudent, he is equally obliged to guard
the altar; to inspect the conduct of his members; and to see
that none of them bring a reproach upon the cross of
Christ. In New York, the relinquishment of balls, the
theatre and card table, formed the "sine qua non" of
admission to the communion in my Church : but whether
the temper of my present flock would submit to the same
rule of conduct, God only knows. I am apprehensive it
would produce a commotion overwhelming in its effects,
and desolating to our interests. Were there a few lay-
men of distinction in this place who would sanction the at-
tempt, and enforce it with their influence, perhaps it might
succeed : but in all my conversations upon the subject, with
some truly excellent men belonging to my Church, they
express the greatest apprehension, and I do not know at
present of any who would uphold me in the conflict. I
hope you will continue to reflect upon the subject; it is,
indeed, of great moment, and merits the most pious and
serious consideration. I have just returned from a long tour
through the western part of the diocese, and shall leave
Richmond in a few days to explore the counties between
York and Rappahannock rivers. I would wish some plan
devised for the support of two or more missionaries; the
money might be raised either by subscription, or by sermons
in our Churches. Present me very respectfully and affec-
tionately to Mrs. and
Believe me, your sincere friend and pastor,
Richard Channing Moore.
LIFE OP BISHOP MOORE. 175
P. S. Do attend our next Convention, and let us en-
deavour to ascertain how far discipline may be exercised
with prudence. I could wish you to bring the question be-
fore the Standing Committee, in order to know their opinion.
In conformity with the suggestions of the foregoing letter,
the subject was presented to the consideration of the Con-
vention in 1818. A warm and animated discussion ensued,
and after various attempts to evade a decision of the ques-
tion, and others to procure the expression of an opinion
that would have led to no good practical result, the follow-
ing resolution was adopted by a unanimous vote of the
clergy, and by a very large majority of the laity.
" Whereas, differences of opinion prevail as to certain
fashionable amusements, and it appears desirable to many
that the sense of the Convention should be expressed con-
cerning them; the Convention does hereby declare its opin-
ion, that gaming, attending on theatres, public balls, and
horse-racing, should be relinquished by all communicants of
this Church, as having the bad effects of staining the purity
of the Christian character, of giving offence to their pious
brethren, and of endangering their own salvation, by their
rushing voluntarily into those temptations against which
they implore the protection of their Heavenly Father; and
this Convention cherishes the hope, that this expression of
its opinion will be sufficient to produce conformity of con-
duct, and unanimity of opinion among all the members of
our communion."
This mild but firm resolve met with the very general ap-^
probation of those whom it concerned. It is believed that,
since its adoption, the clergy have found little difficulty in
maintaining salutary discipline in their respective congre-
gations ; and the Church in Virginia now presents a body
176 MEMOIR OF THE
of communicants as exemplary for non-conformity to the
world, and for zealous devotion to the cause of God, as can
be found in any other diocese.
The formation of the American Bible Society, in the
year 1816, called forth a Pastoral Letter from Bishop Ho-
bart, of New York, reiterating the sentiments advanced
by Bishop Marsh, and others, in England, and advising
Episcopalians not to give it their patronage and support ;
chiefly on the ground that a union with other denominations
of Christians, even for so simple and praiseworthy an object
as that of distributing the word of God without note or
comment, was a virtual recognition of their defective eccle-
siastical organizations, and dangerous to our distinctive
principles as Churchmen. The Pastoral Letter opened a
discussion, which was conducted with ability on both sides,
and excited a very general interest throughout the Church.
Of the merits of the controversy it is not our design to speak.
While we would give to both parties the credit of sincerity,
we would recommend to the members of each, the exercise
of mutual forbearance and charity. It is one of those nice
questions of casuistry about which good men may con-
scientiously diiTer, but which should never be allowed to
produce alienation of feehng among members of the same
household, who acknowledge " one Lord, one faith, one
baptism."
"^ With a full knowledge of the arguments and objections
urged against Bible Societies, Bishop Moore readily accept-
ed the office of President in the Virginia Bible Society, in-
stituted in August, 1S16, as the venerable Bishop White
had previously done in that of Philadelphia. Both con-
tinued to hold their offices, and give to the Bible Society
cause their cordial support, till death closed their earthly
labours.
LIFE OF BISHOP MOORE. 177
The following letters, which themselves sufficiently ex-
plain the occasion of their being written, will be of interest
to the reader in this connexion.
LETTER UPON THE SUBJECT OF BIBLE SOCIETIES.
March 16th, 1825. Jf;
Rt. Rev. and Dear Sir, — I have suffered, during the last
twelvennonth, exceedingly, with an affection of my head.
It has not, indeed, been painful, notwithstanding which, it
has deprived me of all comfort, been injurious to my me-
mory, depressed my spirits, and at times rendered it diffi-
cult for me to walk through my parish. It is, thank God,
less afflicting than it has been. I entertain a hope that I
shall be so far relieved as to be enabled to discharge my
duties with that satisfaction 1 formerly enjoyed. I have
noticed some of the difficulties with which you have had to
contend, and judging of your feelings by my own, I have taken
it for granted that the controversy must have interfered
with your comfort and peace of mind. In all those matters
in which the principles of the Church are concerned, our
sentiments generally harmonize, but in the case of Bible
Societies, we certainly differ. Of this fact you must be
sensible, as I have long been a member of that institution
in Virginia. You cannot, therefore, be offended with me
in expressing the sorrow I felt at the discovery of those
sentiments advanced by you in your late discourse at
Raleigh. The opposition to the Church is so great, and
the prejudice against Bishops so strong, I am afraid your
discourse will not be read with that indulgence it merits,
and that the public will charge us with a wish to keep the
people in ignorance, and as representing the Sacred Volume
p
178 • MEMOIR OF THE
as a book so completely sealed, as to deprive it of its cha-
racter as a revelation from heaven. I think I have heard
you remark, that the order of clergy is so plainly expressed
in the Gospels, and in the Epistles of Paul, as to preclude
the necessity of any other information on the subject; and
that whoever will read without prejudice, must be satisfied
that our views of Episcopacy are correct. Such is my
opinion of the strength of those proofs to be adduced from
those sources, that I entertain no particular alarm from a
general diffusion of the Scriptures, and consider it my duty
to promote as general a circulation of the Bible as possible.
Could a Prayer Book accompany every volume of the
Sacred Writings, I should be rejoiced; but as that was
not the case when the Scriptures were first given to the
world, I cannot see the propriety, at the present day, of
making it the condition of their dissemination. In the
Family Visiter, to which paper you are, I believe, a sub-
scriber, a proposition was made, a few weeks since, of fur-
nishing the public with a history of the Church. Sensible
of the character which that history would sustain, I ad-
dressed a piece to the Editor, under the signature of Senex,
disapproving of the plan, and expressing my fears as to the
result. Though they declared their resolutions to proceed,
still I perceived in the paper of last Saturday, that they
have thought it prudent to omit several sections contained
in the former plan, assigning as a reason, the stress laid by
some Christians on their views of Church government. I
think that I perceive a general disposition in all other so-
cieties to unite against us. The principle of Episcopacy
is so painful to their minds, that they cannot cordially love
us, and would, no doubt, do us hurt : provided it was in
their power. In this State, where the Church, compared
with them, is comparatively weak, I know of no weapon
LIFE OF BISHOP MOORE. 179
SO effectual as prudence; especially as there is some diffe-
rence of opinion on the subject among ourselves.
With love to Mrs. R.,
Believe me your sincere friend and brother,
R. C. MoORE.
Bishop Ravenscroft.
THE rev. W. F. lee.
April 2nd, 1S33.
Rev. and Dear Sir, — Being a sincere friend to the dis-
semination of the Sacred Scriptures, and sensible that age
has deprived me of that efficiency in the discharge of duty
which I once possessed, I have thought proper to return the
clergy, and members of the Bible Society of Virginia, my
sincere thanks for the honour they have for many years
conferred on me, in electing me as their President, and to
express my disposition to give place to the appointment of
a younger man to fill that responsible ofiice. I must also
request you, Rev. Sir, to assure the Society, that I shall
always derive the greatest enjoyment in the prosperity of
the Bible cause: and that no effort in my power shall be
wanting in the promotion of the glorious work in which
they are engaged. For the space of nineteen years, my
name has been enrolled on the list of its members; during
which time, (it gives me pleasure to say,) we have been of
one mind, and one heart. No discordant views have ever
interrupted our harmony. We have prosecuted our mea-
sures with a unanimity of Christian sentiment and feeling,
supplicating the Almighty for his blessing on our exertions'
the God of love and peace, whose favour we implored, has
crowned our labours with success.
Accept, dear sir, the assurances of regard,
And believe me, &c.
R. C. Moore.
180 MEMOIR OF THE
ANSWER TO AN INVITATION TO ATTEND THE MEETING OF THE
BIBLE SOCIETY IN NEW YORK.
February 9th, 1825.
Dear Sir, — I have received your communication invi-
ting me to attend the meeting of the Bible Society in New
York; but as the Convention of the Episcopal Church will
assemble in this place in the month of May, it will not be
in my power to visit your city at the time specified in your
letter. To forward and promote the circulation of the
Holy Scriptures is my sincere wish ; and to carry that wish
into efifect, I have repeatedly exerted the best energies of
my mind. The Bible is the word of God — a revelation
intended for the benefit of every memher of the human
family; of course, every means that can be adopted to
render its circulation general, must be in accordance with
the Divine will. Such, I presume, is the opinion of all
Protestants; and though men may ditler conscientiously
as to the mode in which it should be done, still, I charitably
believe, that there is not a Christian belonging to our
ranks, who does not wish well to the widest spread of
divine truth.
Accept my best wishes for the prosperity of the Bible
cause, and with my compliments to your worthy Presi-
dent, and other ofticers of the institution,
Believe me your friend and obedient servant,
Richard Channing Moore.
The attachment of Bishop Moore to the peculiar doc-
trines and institutions of his own Church, ardent and sin-
cere though it was, as it did not restrain him from co-
operating with Christians of other communions in works of
LIFE OF BISHOP MOORE. 181
benevolence and pietv, which involved no sacrifice of prin-
ciple, SO neither did it prevent him from cherishing towards
them every feeling of kindliness, and interchanging the
tender offices of love. In the following extract from one
of his conventional addresses, we recognize the overflow-
ing of a truly Catholic heart, wishing "grace, mercy^ and
peace, to all who love our Lord Jesus Christ in sincerity :"
" To promote the cause of genuine religion is our only ob-
ject; and as that object is legitimate, it must succeed. We
know of no enemies but the enemies of our own exalted
Redeemer ; we stretch forth the right hand of fellowship
to all who, in sincerity, call upon the Lord Jesus Christ;
we expect to meet in heaven with Christians of all deno-
minations; and while we labour in our department, we
wish prosperity to all the Saviour's friends. Yes, brethren,
in heaven, distinctions will be done away ; we shall
then be embodied under one name — ' the spirits of the
just made perfect;' and in joyful union, we will unite
with them and angels in singing unto Him who loved
us, and washed us from our sins in his own blood ; unto
Jesus, the exalted, precious Jesus, be all honour and glory
ascribed, forever and ever. Amen."*
There are some minds so strangely constituted as to be
incapacitated for " holdiiig the truth in love.''^ They
seem to suppose that an attachment to the distinctive prin-
ciples of the Church must prove itself genuine by the in-
dulging of an acerbity of temper towards all who do not
embrace them, by uttering the most bitter reproaches
against the advocates of different principles, and by keep-
ing ourselves entirely aloof from all intercourse with those
who are not of our communion. How wide the contrast
* Journal of Convention, ISIS.
p2
182 3IEM0IU OF THE
between their course and that of the venerated subject of
this memoir ! Which of them bears the closest resemblance
to the example of that meek and loving Master who dealt
tenderly with the unbelieving and persecuting Pharisees;
and who, when some of his own disciples would imprecate
fire from heaven upon a village of heretical Samaritans,
said — " ye know not what spirit ye are of?"
To infer from the fact of Bishop Moore's attachment to
Bible Societies, and his charitable feelings towards Chris-
tians of every name, that his attachment to the doctrines
of the Church was feeble, and that he had no strong aver-
sion to schism : or to infer from his love of associations,
lecture-room services, and prayer meetings, that he did not
properly appreciate the venerable Liturgy, and fixed wor-
ship, and decent ceremonies of the Church, would be an
act of the grossest injustice to his character. Baptized and
confirmed at her altars, trained up from earliest infancy to
walk in her hallowed ways> he had derived all his spiritual
nutriment from her bosom: and finding in her services, doc-
trines, and sacraments, all that he needed for the support,
growth, and comfort of his inner man, he was ever distin-
guished by his firm and undeviating adherence to the
Church, as " the house of the living God, the pillar and
ground of the truth."
So ardent was his attachment to the Liturgy in its in-
egrity — so opposed was he to any measure which might
disturb the fair beauty and harmony of its proportions,
that when in the General Convention of 182G, a proposal,
not for a change in the Prayer Book, but for the allowance
of discretion in the use of certain parts of the service, intro-
duced by Bishop Hobart, was concurred in by the majority
of both houses as expedient and desirable ; he was decidedly
opposed to the measure as one of dangerous tendency, and
LIFE OF BISHOP MOORE. 183
expressed his views in the following strong language at the
next meeting of his Diocesan Convention.
"The Secretary, brethren, will produce to the Conven-
tion a letter from the Secretary of the General Convention,
on the subject of certain proposed alterations in the Liturgy
of the Church. It is my duty to mention, not only to the
members of this Convention, but also to the members of the
Church throughout the Diocese of Virginia, the fears with
which my mind is impressed on this important subject. The
Church has hitherto prospered in the use of the Liturgy as
it has been handed down to us by our fathers. That uni-
formity of worship which has distinguished us as a society,
should the proposed alterations be carried into effect, would
be destroyed. Instead of uniting in the same devotional
exercises as we hitherto have done, every clergyman will
have it in his power to select his own lessons, and to read
such portions of the Psalms of David as he pleases, by which
means the public worship of God in these particulars, will
be as various as the constitutions of our minds. The old
members of the Church, who have been taught to view the
Liturgy through a medium the most sacred, will be grieved.
The guards to uniformity being once removed, one inno-
vation will succeed another, until the people will lose that
reverence for our incomparable services by which they
have been actuated, and the Church receive the most vital
injury.
"When we reflect upon the general esteem in which the
Liturgy is viewed by the reflecting and considerate of other
denominations, our opinion of its excellence should be
strengthened and increased. The celebrated Dr. Clarke,
of the Methodist Society, has declared that the Liturgy of
the Church is second to no volume except the sacred wri-
tings ; and the Rev. Robert Hall, of the Baptist Society
^ ^f /^'
184 " MEMOIR OF THE
has expressed himself in similar language. To touch a
matter of so much consequence without the deepest reflec-
tion — to alter a service of such acknowledged worth with-
out years of prayerful consideration, should not be ventured
on. When we enter the threshold of this inquiry, we
should take the shoes from off our feet, as the ground
whereon we tread is holy ground. The Church io Virginia
will never be induced, I trust and pray, to depart from her
prescribed forms; but will defend the Liturgy in all its in-
tegrity, and prove to the Christian world that we revei'ence
the opinions of our fathers, and are satisfied with that system
of doctrine which they venerated, and which they so high-
ly valued." The same jealousy which the Bishop manifest-
ed in reference to any attempts to efTect alterations in the
service by means of legislation, prompted him to reprove
any unauthorized departure from a rubrical use of it re-
sulting from individual caprice or thoughtlessness. Was
there at one period a desire on the part of some few of the
clergy of Virginia to deviate from the prescriptions of the
rubrics by mutilating or abridging the public worship of the
Church ! The censurable practice was at once rebuked
with all the calmness and gentleness so becoming in a
father of the Church. We find the following in his address
to the Convention of 1825.
" To remedy some difficulties, brethren, which have pre-
sented themselves to view, I conceive it a duty incumbent
on me at this time, to ofier a few observations on the sub-
ject of an obedience to the rubrics of the Church ; and
as the clergy cannot charge me with unkindness in my in-
tercourse with them, I trust my remarks will be received
in the same spirit of conciliation with which they \\\\\ be
ofTered, and not charged to a spirit of improper domina-
tion. The Church of which we are members has always
LIFE OF BISHOP BIOORE. 185
felicitated herself upon the possession of a liturgy, combi-
ning with the soundest sense the purest and most sublimated
devotion, a liturgy which has commanded the respect and
admiration of some of the greatest and most enlightened
men who have lived since the Reformation. To enable
the clergy to conduct the devotions of the people in per-
fect uniformity, rubrics have been attached to all the of-
fices of religion, a compliance with which is required of
every minister prior to his ordination.
" Although the services of the Church have been thus
guarded, still it has sometimes happened that a departure
from the liturgy has taken place, and the beauty of our
incomparable form of worship been, in some measure, de-
stroyed.
"When an individual, instructed in the peculiarities of our
services, is engaged in the duties of the sanctuary, he can
follow, with indescribable pleasure, the officiating clergy-
man in the regular exercise of his office ; he is always pre-
pared to unite in the prayers, and to worship the Lord in
the beauty of holiness, without the least distraction of mind.
But when it so happens that the clergyman is inattentive
to the rubrics, the devotional exercises of the worshipper
are obstructed : his mind, instead of being preserved calm
and serene, becomes perplexed, and his religious feelings
changed into those of disappointment, if not of displeasure.
I indulge the hope, brethren, that in those instances in
which the aberrations alluded to have been practised,
they have arisen more from inconsideration than design ;
and that it is only necessary to mention the evil to have it
remedied."
It is gratifying to state that these sound views were well
received, and cordially responded to by the Convention, in
the adoption of the following resolution: — Resolved, That
186 MEMOIR OF THE
the Convention heartily concurs with the Bishop in recom-
mending to the ministers a punctual observance of the
same," [viz. the rubrics] " warning them of the danger of
yielding to the prejudices supposed to exist against the
Liturgy, either in the breasts of the irreligious, or of those
who may be present at our Churches, who are accustomed
to other services: and particularly would they urge it upon
the ministers and parents to train up the younger mem-
bers of the Church in the use of the Prayer Book, as the
best means of ensuring a regular and edifying use of the
Liturgy, and would also recommend it to the ministers oc-
casionally to expatiate on the excellencies and advantages
of our incomparable service. At the same time, the Con-
vention feels bound, in duty to the Church of Virginia, to
state, that but few instances of departure have occurred,
and, also, that there is a growing attachment to the ser-
vices of the Church throughout the diocese."
The following letters bear testimony that the same prin-
ciples which the Bishop advocated in his public official acts,
also governed him in his private intercourse with the clergy
and other members of the Church.
A LETTER TO ONE OF HIS CLERGY ON THE LITURGY.
November 4lh, 1822.
Rev. and Dear Sir, — There can be no difficulty in
managing the affairs of the Church, provided every member
will confine himself within the bounds prescribed by the
Canons ; and yield due obedience to those rules which
have been established by the proper authority. Your let-
ter of the 22nd of October, breathed such a disposition
throughout; and convinces me that I may always lean
LIFE OF BISHOP MOORE. 187
upon your arm for support, in the discharge of every legiti-
mate act of Episcopal duty. The directions which I gave
Mr. , relative to the Church in , were grounded
upon the letter of the canon ; and, as I thought that por-
tion of the diocese most worthy of attention, 1 took it for
granted he would have governed himself accordingly. The
promises which he had made at his ordination, justified the
expectation I had formed of his obedience, and satisfied
my mind that he would have yielded to my wishes. The
want of conformity to my directions, you assure me in your
communication, proceeded from misconception, and not from
intention, I should therefore be more than unkind, were I
to withhold from him any good offices in my power to be-
stow.
It cannot, in the nature of things, be long before I shall
be obliged to resign my office to some more active and
efficient man. Who that man will be, Heaven only knows;
but as order and conformity to principle are necessary, not
only to secure the happiness of my successor, but to pro-
mote the interests of the Church, it becomes the duty of all
who wish well to our Zion, to guard well her bulwarks,
and to see that no man overleaps his proper boundaries.
My successor may not possess that accommodating dis-
position, by which I have always been influenced. An op-
position to lawful authority may be viewed by him, not
as mistake, but design. And in such circumstances, he
would think himself justified in acting upon the principle
of canon law; and in enforcing that law, would produce
disorder and confusion. To prevent such a state of things
is every good man's duty ; and as attention to order will
certainly eflfect it, no man who loves the peace of the
Church, can object against conformity to principle. Our
laws have been enacted by ourselves ; and when we pro-
188 MEMOIR OF THE
mise to obey them, we should honestly strive to carry our
promises into effect. Tyranny, in either Church or state,
I abhor from my heart; but as confusion, and a want of
order would be equally prejudicial, we should guard against
too much laxity, with as much jealousy, as against too
much power. T cannot see how the Church can be secured
from tumult, unless a strict compliance with principle is
preserved ; and unless we are attentive to little things, we
shall at last act as if there were no rules to be observed.
There may be some particular points relative to order,
discipline, and worship, which all do not approve; but as
long as those points exist, no individual possesses the right
to violate them. If the contrary principle should be advo-
cated, then every man would follow the dictates of his pri-
vate judgment, and all order, both in doctrine, discipline,
and worship, be at an end. To return to the concerns of
J\lr. , you observe that ' it will be very desirable to
him to know the course T would wish him to pursue.' In an-
swer I have only to state, that I would wish him to pursue
that path, which you may think most desirable ; and, pro-
vided he adheres to the principles of tiie Church, during
his continuance in deacon's orders, I shall think it my duty
to admit him to the Priesthood, when authorised to do so
by the Standing Committee. I would advise him to read
all the canons with attention, as I shall, in all probability,
examine him upon that subject.
Believe me.
Your sincere friend,
Richard Chanm.vg Moore.
LIFE OF BISHOP MOORE. 189
ON THE USE OF THE LITURGY.
November 18th, 1822.
Dear Sir, — I have written this day to Mr. , upon
the subject of his settlement in , offering him my
counsel, and enjoining it upon him to conform, in the dis-
charge of his duties, to the doctrine, worship, and discipline
of the Church. Our excellent services cannot be too stea-
dily adhered to, and should he depart from our long esta-
blished usages, the cause of the Church begun in your
neighbourhood, under your auspices, would be much injured.
The Dissenters are unwilling to concede anything to us, and
should we ask them to use our Prayer-book in their assem-
blies, they would soon evince their consistency by a refusal,
why therefore should we, in order to please them, lay by
our peculiarities, and conform to their views. I have re-
quested Mr. to make you his friend and counsellor,
fearing, from his youth and inexperience, that, should at-
tempts be made to lead him astray, he might be disposed
to yield. The Church in your part of the country will de-
rive its character from the proceedings of your minister,
and congregation ; it is, therefore, doubly necessary that its
distinctive features should be so exhibited that the people
may become acquainted with all its usages. It will rest
much with you, my dear sir, to assist in the preservation of
order, and you will very much oblige me, by affording Mr.
that counsel and assistance, which, as a young man,
he must require.
Believe me, Sir,
Yours, &c., &.C.
Richard Channing Moore.
190 MEMOIE OF THE
June 2n(l, 1823.
Rev. and dear Sir, — The frankness of character which
ntiarks your very acceptable favour of the 29th ult.>
obliges me to conclude, that any advice I may propose rela-
tive to the discharge of your duties in , grounded upon
the Canons and rubrics of the Church, will receive every
proper attention, and will be listened to with the same
affection with which it will be offered. My habits of
mind are such as will convince you, upon an acquaint-
ance with me, that an improper interference will never be
attempted, and that the object I have in view is the pros-
perity of the interests of religion and the Church, and the
happiness of all the clergy belonging to the diocese. A
departure from our usages may be pleasing to those unac-
quainted with our peculiarities, and the solemn obligations
nto which we enter at our ordination ; but that departure,
I am well convinced, will tend to injure the cause we have
engaged to promote, and will ultimately destroy our peace,
and usefulness. In a parish of such prominent importance
as that over which you are placed, it would be my wish
that the services peculiar to our communion should be re-
gularly and canonically performed: and that the Church
should be exhibited to the view of the people in all her na-
tive beauty, without the least aberration whatever from
the rubric. Prior to our ordination we promise that we
will conform to the doctrines and worship of the Church ;
I cannot, therefore, believe that any of our parishioners
who know the importance of a written assurance, would
wish us, after being informed of the nature of our engage-
pients, to violate a declaration freely made at such a solemn
I,IFE OF BISHOP MOOEE. 191
period of our lives. What assurance, I would ask, can our
vestries have in our integrity, other than that they derive
from our promises of fidelity ? If they see us violate our
ordination vows, will that violation exalt us in their estima-
tion ? Will it not raise in their minds a suspicion that
other promises, into which we may enter with them, will
prove equally devoid of certainty ? The Church boasts
of her uniformity. We derive a pleasure from re-
flecting, that, upon the same days, and at the same pe-
riod, all the members of our communion, throughout the
continent, are using the same prayers, and listening to the
same portions of the Scriptures. If, in one place, either by
the wish of the people or the fancy of the minister, such
and such prayers are omitted, such and such lessons are
changed for others, and the decalogue overlooked, where
will be our pretensions to uniformity '? Instead of things
being in order, the harmony of our worship will be destroy-
ed, and our whole incomparable system be changed into a
chaos. I do not say that circumstances may not some-
times prove so imperious as to justify a little departure from
our excellent forms. In country places, where the people
have travelled through the cold, and are destitute of such
accommodations as those with which you and myself are
furnished, a clergyman might plead necessity for his con-
duct : a plea which would be entitled to great consideration.
(A clergyman may also be indisposed, and unable to comply,
and, of course, would be justifiable in the omission of some
things.) But in a city, where our churches are at our doors,
and where those churches are warm and comfortable, I am
obliged to conclude, without a breach of charity, that the
hearts of the people must be very cold, prayer a great bur-
den, and the Scriptures of God too lightly esteemed, if they
should consider our incomparable Liturgy too long, or our
192 ME3I0IR OF THE
excellent services fatiguing. Whatever parish I enter, I
feel it my duty to perform the whole service and to com-
ply with all our usages. If the people are unaccustomed
to the Liturgy, and to those priestly garments, consecrated
by long use, they consider me an innovator ; a charge by
no means agreeable to my mind. The clergyman, to jus-
tify himself for his wanderings, is under the painful neces-
sity of censuring his Bishop for doing his duty, or is
obliged to make apologies to his people for omissions, which,
to say the least of them, were improper. I wish things to
be so conducted throughout the diocese, that, when a mem-
ber of one parish visits another, he may feel perfectly at
home ; and not have his mind disturbed either with omis-
sions or additions. I know, if I were engaged as a piivate
worshipper in the services of the Church, the devotional
feelings of my heart would be distressed to perceive the
officiating minister violating order ; and thus depriving me of
a service to which I have a legitimate claim, and which he is
bound to perform. My devotion would suffer injury, and
that injury would be chargeable to the man, who, by his
eccentric movement, should occasion my distress. I, there-
fore, must entreat you, and ask it at your hands, and at the
hands of your vestry, as a particular favour, that you will
attend tothe rubrics, without the least deviation, and appear,
in the discharge of your public duties, clothed in those sacred
vestments, the use of which has been sanctioned by ages,
and by men (in whose footsteps we may be proud to
tread) first in the ranks of piety and learning. From the
knowledge I have of your people, I am certain that an at-
tention to these things will be pleasing to them. Many of
them have told me so ; and I do not know that there is an
individual among them who would refuse his sanction to the
measure.
LIFE OF BISHOP MOORE. 193
This letter has been written in reply to your respectful
and affectionate communication. The sentiments it breathes
are in unison with the rubrics and usages of the Church ;
and they are such as will promote the interests of your
parish ; and a compliance with which, I should presume,
would contribute to your mental quiet, and add a lustre to
your character as a priest of the Protestant Episcopal
Church.
Your sincere friend and father in Christ Jesus,
R. C. MooRE.
P. S. As there is no canon enjoining the wearing of the
surplice, you will, of course, use your best discretion in the
case. But as white is an emblem of purity — as it cannot
be charged with being a tawdry vestment ; and as the con-
gregation were, until lately, accustomed to it, I hope there
will be no objections made to its use.
June 4th, 1823.
Rev. and Dear Sir, — Difficulties and discouraging cir-
cumstances in the discharge of our public duties are by no
means peculiar to yourself. We all meet with them at
times, and find them burdensome and oppressive. I am
frequently placed in situations in which my judgment and
experience appear insufficient to direct me. Untoward
circumstances present themselves when I least expect their
approach, leaving me no alternative but to listen to the
plain suggestions of duty, and to commit events and con-
sequences to my Heavenly Father.
I believe, that, in all cases, duty should form the first con-
sideration. Policy, as it is called, will, in general, lead us
q2
194 MEMOIR OF THE
astray, and discover to us the impropriety of substituting
any thing in the place of positive principle. As long as we
attend to those obligations into which we have entered, we
n»ust be safe. Our adherence to principle, although it may
be less pleasing to a portion of our fellow-mortals, will cer-
tainly meet with the approbation of Heaven, the assent of
the discerning, and secure to us the peaceful witness of our
own consciences. These remarks have been elicited by the
observations contained in your last communication. You
have omitted, you say, parts of the Liturgy, in order to
meet the views of the people of your charge, and to render
them better satisfied with the service of the Church. In-
stead, however, of producing the effect you contemplated,
the reverse has been the result : for at the moment in
which your accommodating temper has satisfied some, the
sacrifices you have made, have displeased others, and have
ofTended those who have the greatest claim to your atten-
tion ; I mean the decided friends of the Church. My ad-
vice would be this : Request Mr. , and those other per-
sons in your neighbourhood who are acquainted with the
Liturgy, to unite in the responses; and whether the con-
gregation will join or not, give them the service as it is
ordered by the rubrics. This, in all possible cases, we have
pledged ourselves to do ; of course there can be no man,
whose good opinion we would value, who will blame us for
conforming to our engagements. The Scriptures, in par-
ticular, should always be read, and if any should ofifer an
objection to the measure, the very objection they ofter is
proof positive that they stand in need of the instruction
which the Scriptures contain. I have officiated several
times at , and have invariably used the whole service,
and never have been better pleased with the responses
LIFE OF BISHOP MOORE. 195
than at that place ; they were confined very generally, it
is true, to the ladies; but as long as they were duly made,
I was satisfied, whether coming from the Hps of male or
female auditors. How are the people to become acquainted
with the Liturgy, unless the Liturgy is used ? Can our ser-
vices be called the services of the Episcopal Church, unless
the order of the rubrics is complied with 1 We are not sent
to officiate to any denomination but our own; of course, we
are not justifiable in violating our principles to meet the
views of any other description of people. If I were situated
in your parish, I would comply with the rules of the Church.
By so doing, I should be sure of pleasing my own flock, and
I do not think that I should displease the considerate of any
other denomination. I am well assured, that, in conversa-
tion, you always defend the usages and services of the
Church: by attending closely to them, the people will think
you sincere in what you say ; but should you be tempted
to sacrifice them to the prejudices of those unconnected
with us, the sincerity of your declarations will be questioned.
The path of duty is the path of safety. Take that ground
which you have pledged yourself to maintain, and you will
find that you will be respected and beloved.
Believe me, in great truth,
Your affectionate friend and father in Christ,
R. C. MooRE.
January 7th, 1825.
" Rev. and Dear Sir, — I am delighted to hear that you
have been well received by the members of the Church in
, and that your labours in the ministry are so generally
acceptable. May God, who is rich in mercy, continue to
196 MEMOIR OF THE
bless you, and render you useful in your day and gene-
ration.
" As I know, from experience, the temptations to aberrate
from the Liturgy with which you will be assailed ; you must
pardon me, in requesting you to resist them all. We have
solemnly promised to conform to the discipline and worship
of the Church upon all public occasions; and however
agreeable a departure from our obligations may be to some,
still men of principle will venerate and respect us for our
fidelity, and be pleased to see in us a scrupulous regard to
our ordination vows. The above observations have not
arisen from anything that 1 have ever heard unfavorable
to your regularity, but entirely from a knowledge of those
dangers to which a young clergyman of the Episcopal
Church is exposed in a new settlement. Steadiness and
inflexibility will, however, in time, overcome all difficulties
connected with the commencement of the work ; and when
other societies discover that we act from principle, they will
cease to find fault with our Prayer Book, and when pre-
sent, will consider themselves bound to unite with us in
the celebration of our excellent services."
April 29th, 1825.
" It is proper for me to mention to you, that, as a lay-
reader in the Church, Mr. must confine himself to
the use of the Liturgy, and read such printed sermons as
are approved of by the Church ; for should he be ever so
well qualified to exercise the duties of a religious instructor,
it would be improper for him to do so, until he has been
examined by the proper authority, and his competency
fully established. I have felt it my duty to state this fact,
LIFE OF BISHOP MOORE. 197
as the canons of the Church declare, that should a candi-
date for orders deliver his own conipusitlon, it would be
considered a disqualification for holy orders. In the case
of a lay-reader, the obligcttions to use the Liturgy, and to
read approved sermons, are equally proper; as, without the
most rigid attention to those rules, men might inculcate
principles foreign to the views of the Church, and thus be
productive of more injury than benefit."
December 9th, 1828.
'• Rev. and Dear Sir, — I am pleased to perceive the in-
dustry which has marked your efforts in . It proves
an attachment to duty, without which, duty would prove a
burden: and furnishes me with reason to believe that as
your labours are delightful to your own mind, so those
labours will be edifying to the people, and will secure you
the blessing of God. I have always thought that if in early
life a clergyman discovers an indifference to the pursuits
of his calling, and a coldness in the discharge of the work
in which he has engaged, that middle life will find him in a
state of moral decrepitude, and advanced age in a com-
plete and confirmed religious palsy. As long as our zeal
is according to knowledge, we have great reason to bless
and thank God for its influence on our hearts, and should
daily supplicate him for an increased portion of his grace.
You have a fine field of labour before you, and should the
cause of religion and the Church prosper in your hands,
you will have the pleasure to reflect that that prosperity
has been produced by the blessing of God on your exer-
tions. I have always thought that there ought to be a
198 MEBIOIR OF THE
Church ererfpfi at , that being the most central part,
and should such an event take place, I hope it will be
built, not as a general place of worship, but as an Episco-
pal Church. By such a disposition of things, the rector of
the parish will always be sure he is no intruder ; and will
never be brought into a painful competition with other
societies of Christians.
" On the general plan, other ministers would have the
same right with yourself; by which means opposite doc-
trines would be inculcated from the same pulpit; the minds
of the young would be confused, instead of being edified ;
our Liturgy, perhaps, would be abused ; and discord, instead
of good order, become the reigning principle. To produce
peace with others, we must be strictly attached to our own
principles, persevering in the inculcation of them, and never
sacrificing them to please those who (experience teaches
us) will make no sacrifices to please us. Ministers of other
denominations, and the people too, will declare us very
liberal, provided we will use extempore prayers on public
occasions of worship : but should you ask them to use our
Prayer-book to please us, they would soon shew you their
superior consistency of conduct by a positive refusal. The
truth is, the Prayer-book contains the concentrated wisdom
of ages, and any man who would be willing to say he can
pray more to the purpose, must be a stranger to his own
powers, and to say the least of it, not remarkable for his
modesty. I have a perfect confidence in your judgment,
and from the knowledge I have of your excellent people, I
look forward with confidence to the prosperity of our par-
ticular communion."
LIFE OF BISHOP MOORE. 199
TO A YOUNG CLERGYMAPf.
September 16th, 1826.
" Rev. and Dear Sir, — I have received your letter in
which you request my advice on the subjectof your present
situation. I do not hesitate to say that all the difficulties of
which you complain may be effectually removed, provided
you will observe that course of conduct which I shall pre-
scribe. No clergyman can be very successful, who does
not form an intimate fire-side acquaintance with his parish-
ioners. It is from frequent visits to the houses of his mem-
bers that he secures a place in their affections. By com-
municating to him their troubles, and receiving his advice,
a confidence in his friendship is produced, which a Sabbath
interview cannot effect. My counsel to you would be the
following: Take your horse and go to every family in
your parish ; breakfast with one, and pass an hour in suita-
ble religious conversation with the family ; dine with a
second, and pursue the same course; take a cup of tea or
coffee with a third; read, converse, and pray with them
all. By attending to this plan, you can visit, at the least,
eighteen families in a week, and by persisting in it you
will soon complete the tour through your entire district.
When you have finished, devote a few weeks to your
studies, then begin again, and never think the work finished,
as long as you possess health, strength, and life. By sa
doing you will render your people your personal friends.
If you should ask me, when am I to read ? I would answer.
Take a few select books in your pocket, and devote an
hour or two to that pursuit, before you retire at night. Men
who are your friends, and who see you frequently at their
houses, will endeavour to make good their promised sup-
/
200 MEMOIR OF THE
port ; your wants will therefore all be supplied, and your
mind be at rest.
Should you remove into another parish, you would never
be happy without pursuing the plan above prescribed : I
would advise you therefore to try the experiment in -^ ,
where the people think affectionately of you; and should
you find my plan to fail, then write to me, and I will afford
you every facility in my power to change your residence.
TO A CLERGYMAN, (REVERENCE FOR SACRED PLACES.)
January, 25th, 1825.
Rev. and Dear Sir, — The representation you have given
me of that sacred cause in which you have engaged, in
, is truly encouraging, highly honourable to yourself,
and beneficial to the religious community of which your
society constitutes a member. All that is requisite to
render your labours productive of that benefit we could
wish, is firmness in the discharge of your duties. The
Liturgy is certainly to be used every Sunday : and when
such a man as , who, although a Presbyterian, haa
expressed himself in terms favourable to the Prayer-book,
we should not permit the objections of others to weigh so
far with us as to produce the least departure from the
rubrics.
By consistency of conduct on our part we shall please
our friends, and all who join us, will join us as Churchmen,
and of course give the preference to our incomparable
Liturgy. In a letter received from Mr. , I perceive
that the district under his care is equally flourishing, and
I am pleased to find, that if he is to have a Church, that
Church, he has resolved to consider exclusively his own.
I would advise you to proceed upon the same plan. Should
LIFE or BISHOP MOOEE. 201
you unite with the Masons in the erection of a building, by
what name would you distinguish it? At one time it would
be devoted to the service of God, and at another time to a
Masonic meeting, if not to a Masonic Ball. Were I in
your place, I would rather devote the money subscribed to
a Church built of logs, and ceiled within, than to a build-
ing of a superior order, devoted to other purposes. Let it
not be said that from these observations I am opposed to
Masonry. All that I plead for is consistency; and as I
could not consecrate a building of the character alluded to,
I should feel reluctant to administer the Lord's Supper
within its walls.
How could you commence the service with that sublime
sentence in the Prayer-book, " The Lord is in his holy-
temple," when the house had been devoted to worldly
purposes, and perhaps the evening before, the fiddler had
filled its courts? I hope that you, and your friends, may
view the subject through the same medium with myself,
and that you will unite in the erection of an Episcopal
Church.
Your friend and Father in Jesus,
R. C. Moore.
January 31st, 1825. ]
Rev. and Dear Sir, — Your letter produced in my mind a
pleasure which I cannot readily find words to express.
With such a view of things as you have embraced, and
with such an attachment to the Church, and her incompara-
ble services, I assure myself that your success will be great,
and that all who unite under your ministry, will be pious
and well instructed Episcopalians. I am pleased to dis-
cover that your Brethren and are also engaged
R
203 MEMOIR OF THE
with all their powers in the same noble work ; may the
Lord prosper the work of your hands and hearts.
I consider you correct in the stand you have taken
relative to a place of worship. A free Church ever has
been, and ever will prove, a bone of contention. By in-
culcating from the same pulpit the propriety of Infant
Baptism one Sunday, and their want of title to that Sacra-
ment, the next Sabbath : by inculcating particular elec-
tion one Sunday, and general redemption another: by in-
culcating the use of a Liturgy to-day, and insisting upon no
Liturgy to-morrow ; the minds of the people will become
confused : and it will appear a matter of indifference what
sentiments they cherish, and to what denomination they
belong, or what system of worship they adopt.
I hope that you and your brethren in the neighbourhood
will strengthen each other's hands by an occasional ex-
change of pulpits: live in love, tread in the path of holi-
ness, be devoted to your duty, and the Almighty will crown
your labours with success.
Your friend and Father,
R. C. Moore.
He who was thus zealous in his attachment to the
Liturgy of the Church, and faithful in recommending the
performance of its offices in strict conformity with the di-
rections of the rubrics, was ever ready to vindicate the
doctrines of the Church, and upon all suitable occasions to
express his own views in reference to those about which
the equivocal language of our standards leaves room for
discussion and difference of opinion. A clergyman of a
neighbouring Diocese having expressed to Bishop Moore
LIFE OF BISHOP MOOHE. 203
his difficulties and embarrassments in reference to the use
of the offices of Baptism, gave occasion to the following
letters on the much controverted point of Baptismal Re-
generation.
LETTER TO REV. MR. H , ON BAPTISM.
March 20th, 1823.
Rev. and Dear Sir, — I cannot express to you the satisfac-
tion I should reap from an attendance upon your Conven-
tion, but, situated as I am, the thing appears impossible. I
have no support but what I derive from my parish, of
course I dare not venture to trespass too far upon the indul-
gence of my congregation. You will recollect that the
G)nvention of Virginia is to take place in May, and after
that;the General Convention. In attending that of Carolina
and those two other assemblies, I should necessarily be absent
two months. While Dr. Buchanan was alive to fill my
pulpit, the congregation cheerfully submitted : but was I to
shut my Church for such a length of time, I am confident
there would be a great uneasiness excited, if not something
worse. I must therefore submit to circumstances, and
trammeled as I am, make the best of things. Should the
Convention of N. Carolina find it impossible at this time to fix
upon a suitable person to fill the Episcopal chair, let it be
remembered that I have no desire to withhold my services,
or to dissolve the connextion subsisting between us, but
will, as far as practicable, discharge those duties for you,
peculiar to my office. I shall soon, I hope, have an assist-
ant ; 1 offer myself to give towards his support 8500 per
annum out of my salary, and, could ways and means be
found to aid me effectually from other quarters, I should
l>e at perfect liberty to absent rnyself from Richmond, for
204 MEMOIR OF THE
any necessary length of time. I wish you to make this
known to the Convention, (provided you think it expedient)
and to assure them of my most affectionate and grateful
regard. Should I obtain an assistant, and should you not
elect a Bishop, let good Mr. JVliller know that it is highly
probable I shall visit his district in the course of the sum-
mer : of which he shall receive timely notice.
" As I did not quote Bishop Hopkins upon the subject of
Baptismal Regeneration, you had a right to conclude that
I did not rely much upon his support. Calvinism is the
point upon which he stumbles ; notwithstanding which, he
says, in vol. 2nd, page 423, Edition, ' that Baptismal
Regeneration must be acknowledged by all, that will not
wilfully shut their eyes against the clear evidence of Scrip-
ture.' His expression is stronger than I should use upon
the occasion, as it would deny every principle of charity to
those who differ from me on the question. You remark
' that, according to my view of the 3rd chapter of John ,
baptism by water is as necessary to salvation, as the bap-
tism of the Spirit. If I understand you rightly, the latter
cannot take place without the former.' 1 feel confident
that Hooker, in the quotation I have already given you,
had his eye upon that passage of Scripture, in order to do
away the very objection you make. He qualifies his asser-
tion by saying — * as we are not naturally men without
birth, so neither are we Christian men in the eye of the
Church of God, but by new birth, nor, according to the
manifest and ordinary course of divine dispensation, new
born, but by that baptism which both declareth and
maketh us Christians.' The Almighty appoints his own
LIFE OF BISHOP MOORE. 205
ordinances, and it is our duty to comply with thenn, but
I am not obliged to believe that he is tied down, and con-
fined exclusively to those rules which are given for our
observance. Paul was converted in a miraculous manner;
but you cannot, I think, show me, where he is represented
as regenerated and his sins washed away, prior to his bap-
tism. If we rob the ordinance of its spiritual influence, we
render it a mere ceremony. Now I would ask you as a
good Christian, which in my heart I believe you to be,
Would the Saviour and his Apostles have laid such an
unbounded stress upon a mere ceremony? Would Saul,
after his conversion, have been referred by Christ himself to
Ananias, for the performance of a mere ceremony ? Would
Ananias have said, ' arise and be baptized and wash away
thy sins,' if baptism had been a mere ceremony ? Would
he have enjoined the Sacrament of baptism upon Saul, if
his sins had been washed away at any preceding period ?
The subject is indeed too copious to be fully discussed in a
letter of usual length, and I have dropped the few hints
contained in this communication, merely to show you that
my sentiments are in unison with those of the judicious
Hooker, upon the subject. It has been said, by wise
men, that metaphysical science is unfriendly to religion.
It certainly is so, when we lay down systems, and make
Scripture bend to those we establish. Hooker and Beve-
ridge were men of sound sense ; but I perceive that, in all
their writings, systems are made to yield to Scripture.
Such is my plan. I know that my understanding, in mat-
ters of religion, is confined to what has been revealed; I
therefore take my Heavenly Father at his word; and with-
out presuming to question principles which are beyond my
comprehension, and which my blind reason cannot fathom,
I believe what is commanded must be right, from a con-
r2
206 MEMOIR OF THE
viction that the God of love can do nothing that is wrong.
From my soul I wish that your mind was as fully satisfied
upon the subject of baptism as mine is. Newton, in one of
his hymns, says, *' do not reason, but believe." If I was to
believe nothing but what I can perfectly understand, I
should stop at the very threshold ; for I confess that 1 am
as incapable of embracing in my understanding the princi-
ple of the first great uncreated cause of all things, as an
infant; and yet my mind embraces the principle as fully
as if I was perfectly acquainted with the whole subject.
That we may both have our minds illumined, as it is ne-
cessary they should be, is the prayer of your
Sincere friend and father in Jesus,
R. C. MoORE."
TO REV. MR. H ON BAPTISM.
Richmond, Dec. 7th, 1823.
Rev. and Dear Sir, — A great variety of circumstances
have prevented me from attending to your last favour at
an earlier period than the present moment. Inclination,
and a regard for your peace of mind upon the subject of
Baptism, would have produced an immediate reply ; but as
my time is not my own, I will, without further preface,
proceed to make such remarks as grow out of the subject
in question. Metaphysical reasoning very frequently in-
volves the inquirer after truth in difiiculties, to which an
honest and untutored mind is not subject. We often estab-
lish premises which are at variance with Scripture pre-
cept, and, of course, our deductions cannot be in harmony
with the text. This I conceive to be the case with bap-
tismal regeneration. The Calvinist says, that all who re-
LIFE OF BISHOP MOORE. 207
ceive grace shall infallibly persevere ; of course, those who
fail into sin after baptism, and die impenitent, never had
grace. As I do not subscribe to the doctrine of persever-
ance to the extent maintained by the followers of Calvin,
as I believe that man may resist grace, and finally perish ;
the dilemma in which the strict Calvinist is involved, does
not bear upon my opinions, and leaves me at liberty to
believe that the sacraments of the Lord Jesus are no nul-
lities, but gracious and holy means, worthy of their Divine
Author, and consistent with the dispensation of mercy re-
vealed in the Gospel. You ask for Scripture proof in
favour of divine grace as an attendant upon Baptism duly
administered. When the Lord Jesus was baptized by the
Baptist, I perceive from the sacred oracles, that the Holy
Ghost descended upon him ; and that a voice from heaven
proclaimed him as the beloved Son of the Most High God.
In the third chapter of St. John's Gospel, I see the doctrine
of baptismal regeneration fully established. Our Saviour
told Nicodemus that he must he born again ; and when
he expressed his surprise at the declaration, our Saviour
explained his meaning, by saying: " Except a man be born
of water, and of the Spirit, he cannot enter into the kingdom
of God." After which assertion, he proves the reference
he had to his first declaration, by again observing : " Marvel
not that I said unto thee, ye must be born again." When
Peter preached to the Jews, he connected grace with bap-
tism in these words: "Repent, and be baptized, every one
of you, for the remission of sins, and ye shall receive the
gift of the Holy Ghost; for the promise is to you and your
children." When Paul speaks upon the subject to Titus,
he also connects the two together : " The washing of re-
generation, and the renewing of the Holy Ghost." The
Church, in her services, most undoubtedly combines the
208 MEMOIE OF THE
Holy Spirit with the external use of water, and teaches us
to thank God for having regenerated the child with his
Holy Spirit. When I reflect upon the piety and good
sense of those who drew up the Liturgy, 1 am obliged to
think that they had such reasons to justify the expressions,
as were satisfactory to their own minds, and in perfect
unison with the Scripture passages I have just quoted.
Bishop Taylor declares, " Baptism is a neio birth, by which
we enter into the neiv world, the new creature, the bless-
ings and spiritualities of the kingdom. From this time
forward, we have a new principle put into us, the spirit of
grace." Bishop Wilson observes: " Regeneration, or new
birth, is that spiritual change which is wrought by the
Holy Spirit, upon any person in the use of baptism."
Bishop Beveridge remarks : " That we may be born of the
Spirit, we must be born also of water, which our Saviour
puts in the first place. It is the ordinance appointed by
Christ, wherein he regenerates us by his Holy Spirit. He
that would be born of the Spirit must be born of water
also." Hooker declares : " As we are not naturally men
without birth, so neither are we Christian men in the eyes
of the Church of God, but by new birth; nor, according to
the manifest ordinary course of divine dispensation, new
born; but by that baptism which declareth and maketh us
Christians. In which respects, (now mark his words,) we
justly hold it to be the door of our actual entrance into
God's house, the first apparent beginning of life, a seal,
perhaps, to the grace of election before received ; but to our
sanctification here, a step that hath not any before it."
The learned Mede illumines his representation of the
blessing attendant upon baptism, by a bold, vigorous, and
sublime idea. He carries his reader back to the baptism
of the Lord Jesus. He shows him the Holy Ghost as an ac-
LIFE or BISHOP MOORE. 209
companiment of that ordinance, visibly descending upon
the Redeemer, in the shape of a dove, and then remarks:
" In that baptism of his, the mystery of all our baptisms
was visibly acted ; and that God says to every one truly
baptized, as he said to him in a proportionable sense,
* Thou art my beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased.' " I
have Hooker's fifth book of Ecclesiastical Polity now before
me, from which I intended to make some further quotations ;
but as his observations are so lengthy, and so excellent, t must
refer you to that work upon the subject ; confident that,
by a careful perusal of it, your difficulties will all vanish,
and give way to the force of his conclusive reasoning. I
can feel for your embarrassment, because I once was simi-
larly situated. My perplexity arose, not from Scripture,
but from my having laid down false premises in my own
mind, and then drawing from those premises false conclu-
sions. I would advise you to read the third of John, Peter's
address to the Jews, and Paul's definition of baptism, in his
Epistle to Titus ; and divesting your mind of all precon-
ceived opinions, ask yourself the question. What construc-
tion would a rational man, who had never heard of baptism,
nor read upon the subject, put upon those passages? What
construction would a man, who was an entire stranger to
the divinity of the schools, put upon our Saviour's remarks
to Nicodemus, Peter's address to the Jews, and Paul's
expression to Titus? If lam not mistaken, your honest
mind will conclude, that he would think, and believe, that
baptism forms the regeneration of which we are treating ;
and that he would consider the Holy Spirit as an attendant
upon the ordinance. Should a child, after baptism, fall
into sin, I could not, in my conscience, consider his fall as
a proof that he never had grace, any more than I should
consider an adult who falls into sin, after being duly awa-
210 HEMOIB OF THE
kened and converted to God, never to have had grace.
Peter fell subsequent to his glorious testimony concern-
ing the Saviour; a testimony which the Saviour said,^e*A
and blood had not revealed to him.
If once we take the ground that all who have grace
must and shall infallibly persevere, then we immediately
must believe, that all who do not persevere never had
grace; and, consequently, maintain the soul-appalhng and
unscriptural doctrine of preterition or reprobation. " God
is love," and, therefore, delights not in the death of a sin-
ner. He says that " he will have all men to be saved, and
to come to the knowledge of the truth ;" and, when he re-
vealed himself to Moses, he furnished that prophet, and us,
with the most animating, soul-inspiring view of his good-
ness and mercy ; representing himself in colours the most
benevolent, amiable, and encouraging ; in the character of
a compassionate Father, whose love is universal, embracing
all his children — affectionate, tender-hearted, and merciful.
" The Lord God, merciful and gracious." Those who be-
lieve in reprobation are welcome to all the gloomy horrors
inseparable from the doctrine. For my own part I do not
believe one word of it, neither do I think I ever can while
I retain my senses. When God tells me that he delights
not in the death of the wicked, why should I not believe
my Maker ? When he tells me that the Saviour is the pro-
pitiation for the sins of the whole world, why should I dis-
credit the assertion ? When he says, that we will not come
unto him, that we may have life, why should 1 endeavour
to exonerate the offender, by saying that he cannot go, and
charge the fault to my heavenly Father ? With my latest
voice I hope to proclaim the riches of redeeming grace,
and to assert in my last moments that " God is love." I
wish you Uved nearer to me, that we might converse freely
LIFE OF BISHOP MOORE. 211
and fully upon that subject, which I believe to be the near-
est to your heart, namely, the salvation of the human race.
By an interchange of sentiments we should enliven each
other, and derive fresh strength from conversation. As
long as I have reason to believe that the mercy of God has
been extended to me, I cannot doubt of the kindness of the
Almighty toward my fellow creatures. If he had not been
the very being which he represents himself to be, a mer-
ciful God ! I should have been a stranger to the covenant
of his mercy, for I sinned against him with my eyes open.
He has redeemed me by his blood, works in me by his
Holy Spirit, and, provided I do not expel that spirit from
my heart, he will receive me into heaven : which may God
grant to be the case with you, my beloved friend : and all
that you and I love and hold dear upon earth. Give my
love to Mrs, H., and believe me,
Your sincere friend,
and father in Christ Jesus,
Richard Chaining Moore.
In common with most others who have long been in the
ministry. Bishop Moore was grieved at the migratory habits
of too many of the clergy. He deemed a fixed residence
important, if not essential, to their extensive and perma-
nent usefulness. He attached much sacredness to the rela-
tion between pastor and people, and deemed the frequent
sundering of it as attended with serious evils, and likely to
produce a deleterious effect upon the character of the
ministry and the welfare of the parishes. It would be well
for those who are given to change, and for those who are
beset with temptations to seek for an increase of usefulness
or comfort, by removing from the post of duty in the
Church which Providence has assigned them, to ponder
212 MEMOIR OF THE
the wise counsels contained in the following extracts from
letters to two young clergymen of the Church.
LETTER TO A CLERGYMAN.
Jan. 25, 1832.
Rev. and dear Sir,— I am grieved to find, from your late
communication, that you cannot make yourself happy in
your present cure. If you have not forgotten, you assured
me that you considered it a situation in which you thought
you would be peculiarly useful ; that the salubrity of its
clime would agree with your constitution and contribute to
your health. After such a representation, made of your
own accord, you cannot, with propriety, wonder, that I
should be afflicted at your desire to leave that people as
sheep without a shepherd, and to look for a new situation.
You remark, in your letter, that the people of dis-
covered a disposition to obtain your services. To a settle-
ment with them, I have no objection. Should they con-
tinue to encourage you, and should they invite you to a
settlement with them, provided it meet with your appro-
bation, accept their offer, and enter with spirit upon the
discharge of your duties. There are a number of vacant
parishes calling for clerical help. is now destitute, in
which parish there are two good Churches and a good con-
gregation ; among whom, I am sensible, I would be happy and
contented. , is also vacant, in which a single man,
devoted to his duty, would tind ample support. They have
an excellent church, and also a respectable congregation.
Several churches, in the Northern Neck of Virginia, are
anxious to settle ministers, in one of which Mr. , whom
I ordained last summer, would have settled, had he not been
LIFE OF BISHOP MOORE. 213
prevented going there by a violent affection of one of his
limbs. If you are disposed to visit the place I have men-
tioned, let me know, and I will give you the necessary let-
ters. Before you conclude to settle in any place, reflect
deeply on the subject, and, when your mind is made up on
the occasion, enter on the discharge of your duties with
spirit ; never expect to fix yourself in any parish, in which
everything will be agreeable, but endeavour to meet your
difficulties with fortitude, enduring hardness as a good sol-
dier of Jesus Christ. A frequent change of residence will
operate to the disadvantage of any man. Endeavour to be
stationary in your habits, and in so doing Providence will
take care of you, and promote you in due time ; but, should
you be found frequently on the wing, depend upon it, such
a disposition will prove a disadvantage to you through life.
I have dropped the above remark from motives of a sin-
cere and fatherly regard, they are such as I should present
to the view of my son, and endeavour to impress on his
mind in indelible characters.
I remain, very affectionately,
Your friend and father in the ministry,
Richard Channing Moore.
Rev. and dear Sir, — Since the receipt of your last let-
ter I have been deeply engaged in reflecting upon its con-
tents ; and weighing, in the balance of a sober judgment,
the course most proper for me, as your sincere friend, to
adopt. At one time I had concluded that it would be best
to preserve silence, knowing that my views of those mea-
sures proper for you to pursue, are at variance with your
own; and, fearful that you might suppose me to be actua-
ted, more by a love for the Church, than a regard to your
214 MEMOIR OF THE
interests. The affection, however, which I entertain for
you has overconne my scruples ; and, although my opinions
may not be thought worthy of attention, still, as 1 should
feel myself condemned, were I to withhold them, I have
concluded to present them to your view. My family have
heard me express the apprehensions under which my mind
laboured, upon being made acquainted with your visit to
. My recollections told me, that you had preached
there repeatedly, consequently that the people were ac-
quainted with your talents as a public speaker ; and my ex-
perience told me, that the surest way to, obtain the place,
was to conceal, in a dignified way, your anxiety; and, by
that means, to have produced in the minds of the vestry,
at least an uncertainty as to your acceptance. A female
of virtue, conscious of her worth, will be wooed, and, in
proportion to her apparent indifference, will be pursued by
her admirers; while another, who appears anxious to com-
pass her objects, will frequently come short of her mark.
I have brought forward the above strong figure in order
that the truth of my position may force itself upon your
mind, and serve you as a Vade mecum, upon all future oc-
casions. To prove it correct, attend to the following re-
marks. To the rectorship of St. Stephen's and also to this
place, I was called, without ever having officiated in either
Church. It is a maxim in philosophy that water will find
its level. It is a law of nature, and cannot be controlled
without great obstructions are raised against it. A man of
good talents and established reputation will rise. It is the
law of nature, and cannot be controlled, unless the indi-
vidual obstructs his own course. If I was of your age, and
wished to be promoted, I would attend to my duties in that
place in which it hath pleased God to fix me, thereby re-
ceiving the approbation of my parishioners: influencing
LIFE OF BISHOP MOOKE. 215
them, by my fidelity, to speak well of me, and wait with
patience, until Heaven pointed out, with the finger of Pro-
vidence, the path for me to pursue. Let the Almighty
lead you, and all will be well; but the moment you
attempt to lead the Almighty, disappointment will al-
most invariably follow. Jonah did not like his embassy to
Nineveh, and soon found himself in the whale's belly.
When he complied with the letter of his commission, the
Almighty owned him, elevated him in the opinion of socie-
ty, and blessed his labours. I mention this as a proof that
it is better to follow than to lead Providence. Your good
sense will prevent you from being offended at my honesty,
as it is my duty to guard and to advise you. My motive
is pure. It proceeds from affection to you and to all con-
nected with you. Mr. left this diocese to go to a city,
I have expressed to him my fears, and time will prove the
truth or absurdity of my prediction. Mr. has been
called as assistant to Bishop , who is seated in the
bosom of his friends. I will write to , and endea-
vour to ascertain what can be done in the parish. Write
freely to me on all subjects. Remember me to your family,
and believe me,
With great regard.
Your sincere friend,
Richard Chan^ning Moore.
Feb. 26, 1822.
The principles by which Bishop Moore was guided in
the exercise of his office, and in the performance of the re-
sponsible and multifarious duties which devolved upon him
as a Bishop in the Church of God, have been sufficiently
indicated in the preceding parts of this Memoir, and espe-
216 MEMOIR OF THE
cially in those letters which have been offered for the
reader's perusal in the present chapter. It is unnecessary
to give a more nninute statement of his principles. Suffice
it to say, they were such as he had learned in the school of
Christ. Being deduced from the inspired volume, and fully
recognized in the Articles, Liturgy, and Homilies of the
Church, he became more and more confirmed in them by
his experience of their practical influence in the different
spheres and stages of his protracted ministry.
To the enforcement and propagation of those principles,
his life was devoted with unwavering zeal and persevering
energy. Having passed the meridian of life before entering
upon his Episcopate, it is a matter of astonishment to us
that, in addition to the duties of a large parish, he should
have been enabled to accomplish such an amount of labour
as was required of him in the visitations of his diocese.
The record of every year shows that he was always con-
scious of the vast responsibility imposed upon him in the
care of all the Churches, and ever anxious to discharge it
to the full extent of his ability. He took many journies
of great extent, and was daily employed in the public per-
formance of his high duties as an ambassador of God. Not
content with the perfunctory discharge of his official work
in the Churches, we often find him indulging in his favourite
habit of lecturing in private houses, not only in his own
parish, but on his visitations of others. Wherever he went,
multitudes hung upon his lips ; his services awakened the
deepest interest; and labouring in season, and out of season,
not only in the temple, but from house to house, he had the
happiness of knowing that his work was not in vain in the
Lord ; sinners were turned from the error of their ways,
and believers edified in faith and love.
In addition to the heavy duties of his own diocese, he, in
LIFE OF BISHOP MOORE, 217
compliance with the request of the Church in that state,
assumed the provisional charge of the diocese of North
Carolina, and continued to perform the necessary Episcopal
duties there from the year 1819 until 1823, when the Rev.
John S. Ravenscroft, one of the clergy of Virginia, having
been elected and consecrated Bishop, relieved him of this
part of his labour. The services of Bishop Moore in that
diocese, were highly acceptable and useful, and contri-
buted, by God's blessing, to lay, broad and deep, the foun-
dation of its future prosperity.
The Bishop's encouragement under the multiplied and
oppressive cares of his official station, was derived from
firm reliance upon the Divine promises ; from his rich ex-
perience of the Divine blessing in the harvest he was per-
mitted to reap, even while engaged in sowing the seed;
and from the affectionate confidence he reposed in the cor-
dial co-operation of a united, zealous, evangelical clergy.
Often did he give expression to his feelings in language fer-
vent and glowing, like that of the following extract from
one of his conventional addresses.
" When travelling through this extensive diocese, fatigued
with labours peculiar to the station which I occupy, my
spirits are always revived by recurring to that noble prin-
ciple which forms the soul of this Convention, and which
animates the bosom of each individual member. It is to
raise our Zion from the dust, to build up her prostrated
altars, and to furnish the people of our communion with
the bread of life, that we are labouring. Jehovah, from
his throne of mercy, looks down with approbation, and
whispers to our hearts, * Well done, good and faithful ser-
vants.' When the ruins of our desolated temples meet my
eye, and the religious privations of the people are present-
ed to my view, my soul is overwhelmed with those reflec-
s 2
218 MEMOIR OF THE
tions peculiar to the case. Considering the enemy of man-
kind as the origin of the desolation and distress which I be-
hold, a new impetus is communicated to my mind. The
cross of the Lord Jesus Christ is presented to my view% and,
' Lo ! I am with you always,' revives my heart, and impels
me to renewed exertion. To labour in the vineyard of
the crucified Saviour, has formed my chief delight for the
last thirty-two years of my life ; and though the power of
doing good is in a degree abridged by an increase of years,
still my inclination is as great as it has ever been ; and if
I can add one stone to the sacred edifice, and see the
Church of my fathers placed upon that sacred height to
which the apostolic purity of her doctrines entitles her, I
shall commit my head to the pillow of death with satisfac-
tion, and leave my best blessings to those who shall sur-
vive me.
"When I look around me, and, with anxious solicitude,
view those labourers engaged with me in the work ; when
1 witness their zeal, and Hsten to the sacred truths they
deliver; when I hear the name of Jesus, and the triumphs
of redeeming grace proclaimed by youthful lips ; when I
see the standard of the cross erected in every pulpit;
when I hear the Redeemer proclaimed as the Lord our
righteousness, the only hope of the believer; when I see
the ministers of the Church leading their flocks to the
Saviour, as ' the way, the truth, and the life ;' when I
behold those who have been set apart to the sacred minis-
try by the imposition of my hands, treading in the steps of
Hall, Davenant, and Hooker; conducting their fellow-
mortals, not to Socrates and Seneca for relief, but to that
fountain which was opened on Calvary for the salvation
of a ruined world ; the wilderness and the solitary places
of the Church appear stripped of their weeds, and are pre-
LIFE OF BISHOP MOORE. 219
sented to my enraptured view in all the verdure of primi-
tive times.
Brethren, we have much cause of gratitude to God for
the mercies conferred upon us ; and though all has not been
done that we could have wished, still enough has been
effected to convince us that the Lord is with us, and that
Jehovah smiles upon our efforts."
While the venerable father entertained a strong regard
for all his sons in the ministry possessed of the valuable
traits of professional character enumerated in the foregoing
extract, he cherished an especial warmth of attachment
for those who were in the diocese when he came to it,
and had faithfully shared his solicitude and labours in the
work of its resuscitation. Of these, Norris and Wilmer,
both natives of Maryland, who had removed to the diocese
of Virginia at an early period after their ordination, and, in
the important stations they respectively occupied, had
cheerfully borne "the heat and burden of the day," with
whom he had often " taken sweet counsel together," and
by whose affectionate attentions he had hoped to be soothed
amidst the infirmities of advanced years and the weakness
of decaying nature, were both unexpectedly taken away
in the midst of their years and usefulness, while their vene-
rable Bishop and friend remained, with his eye undimmed,
and his natural force almost unabated.
The Rev. Oliver Norris, for many years Rector of
Christ Church, Alexandria, was one of the most amiable
and lovely of men. In him great sweetness of natural dis-
position was sanctified by the graces and adorned with all
the virtues of religion. As a preacher, while he shunned
not to proclaim the terrors of the law to the wicked, it
was his peculiar delight to offer peace and pardon through
Christ crucified to the contrite, and announce the full
220 MEMOIR OF THE
mercies of redemption to the true believer. As a pastor,
he was tender, assiduous, and watchful. He closed a min-
istry marked with fidelity and success, and a life of faith,
beautifully confirmed and illustrated by the duties of holi-
ness, in a death full of tranquility and hope, in August
1825.
The decease of Mr. Norris is thus noticed in the report
of the Trustees of the Theological School for 1826 : " In
performing this annual duty, the trustees have first to re-
cord a dispensation of Providence which has created a
vacancy in the Board by the death of a beloved brother
who departed this life in August last. In the decease of
the Rev. Mr. Norris, the Diocese of Virginia has lost one of
the earliest and best of those ministers whom Providence
raised up to bear the heat and burden of reviving our fast
expiring Church, and our Seminary is called to part with
an old and constant friend.
" Just as he was preparing to perform some further duty
assigned him by the Board at its last meeting, it pleased
the great Head of the Church to call him to a higher service
and greater honour in the Church above."
The Rev. William H. Wilmer, D. D., first rector of St.
Paul's Church, Alexandria, while no less distinguished by
the graces of personal religion and ministerial fidelity than
his brother and fellow labourer in the work of the Gospel
in the same city — was possessed of wider influence and
greater activity in the concerns of the Diocese and the
Church at large. His sound Church principles, strong
judgment, and varied learning, not only secured for him a
high rank among the chief ministers and safe counsellors of
the Church in Virginia, but gave him such weight of
character in the Church of this Union, that he was, for
several successive sessions, chosen President of the House of
LIFE OF BISHOP MOORE. 221
Clerical and Lay Deputies in General Convention, and
the duties of that high station were performed by him with
a degree of ability, dignity, and impartiality, that insured
the affectionate confidence and respect of the whole re-
presentative body of the Church. His occasional sermons
and controversial writings were highly respectable produc-
tions, and his " Episcopal Manual" is a work of permanent
merit — presenting as faithful a compendium of the doc-
trines of the Church, and as able a vindication of her min-
istry, government and Liturgy, as can be found in any
volume of the same size. In connexion with the rectorship
of St. Paul's he continued to perform the duties of a Pro-
fessorship in the Seminary, until he was called to the Pre-
sidency of William and Mary College, and the rectorship
of Bruton parish, Williamsburg, where, after a short resi-
dence, he died in 1827.
At the Convention next succeeding the death of Mr.
Norris, no Episcopal address was delivered ; but in that of
1828, the loss of Dr. Wilmer is thus noticed :
" In touching on the subject of the bereavement we have
experienced in the death of our beloved Wilmer, it is im-
possible for me to find language sufficiently strong to ex-
press that sense' of his loss which fills my mind. He was
one of those who first called my attention to this Diocese ;
and of the three clergymen who corresponded with me on
that subject, one only now remains. He, I trust, will be
spared to assist you with his counsel when my head will be
slumbering in the tomb.
" To the usefulness of Dr. Wilmer, we must all subscribe.
He was a man of business and of piety. He loved his God,
and the interests of the Church were near his heart. As a
preacher, he was faithful, energetic, eloquent. He was
the friend of evangelical religion, and considered that the
222 MEMOIR OF THE
strictest regard to the public order of the Church was per-
fectly compatible with the most animated social worship in
the houses of his parishioners and friends. His private
meetings — formed, in his opinion, the nursery of the Church,
and were blessed to the edification and comfort of his con-
gregation. He was always ready to discharge his duty.
Like the apostle Paul, he not only taught his people pub-
licly, but went from house to house, exhorting them to
prepare to meet their God. His fidelity in the discharge
of his duty met my warmest approbation ; and if it is your
wish, my brethren of the clergy, to give an account of your
stewardship with joy, oh, let me entreat you all to ' go and
do likewise.' "
The loss of such valuable fellow laborers would, at any
time, have proved a heavy affliction to one who loved so
sincerely and tenderly as Bishop Moore did, but it was felt
the more deeply because, about that period, he suffered
severely from repeated visitations of a painful disease,
which had led him to apprehend that he would soon be
subject to the permanent and incurable infirmities of age,
or that his earthly career would be brought to a sudden
termination.
Unlike most men, he was not desirous to be thought
younger than he really was; but on the contrary, even at
the age of sixty-three or before, he was accustomed to
speak almost as freely of his trembling limbs, gray hairs,
and failing energies, as he did when he had become a
patriarch of nearly fourscore years.
About this time his avowed design of retiring from his
Diocese when he should become incapacitated for his
duties began to be generally spoken of as about to be
carried into execution. In the year 1825 he wrote the
following letter to a friend in reference to that rumor :
LIFE OF BISHOP MOOHE. 223
Richmond, January 14lh, 1826.
Dear Sir, — The rumor which has reached you relative
to my removal, has arisen from my endeavours to procure
an assistant: and also from my determination to retire,
should my health be so imperfect as to prevent me from
the discharge of public duties. All that I have said has
been founded upon the basis of my bodily indisposition, and
the reluctance I feel in holding an office, the duties of
w^hich, that bodily indisposition would prevent me from
fulfilling. Although all your judicious efforts for the sup-
port of the Episcopate have failed, and although I believe \
your greatest exertions will continue to fail, until the opin-
ion of one or two gentlemen can be changed upon the sub-
ject, still I will alford you every countenance in my power,
by recommending the measure to the members of the next
Convention. As I never expect to reap any advantage
from the Episcopal fund, I may perhaps be so fortunate as
to escape unkind remarks from the disclosure of my views;
and I believe it will not be very long before the opposers
of the measure will see their error. I shall content myself
with an assurance of their approbation at some future day.
Had we all been Episcopalians in the strict sense of the
word, the Church of Virginia would not have been in her
present languid condition. We had most of the principal
people with us, and if they had been united in sentiment,
acting in accordance with the spiritual government to
which we belong, we should have commanded their respect
and obtained their support. Parity of order and the doc-
trine of Episcopacy are two distinct things, and to incorpo-
rate them is as much impossible as to unite water with oil.
The Committee and myself must take special care that we
do not lose sight of the above principle. Your letters
224 MEMOIR OF THE
always afford me so much pleasure, that T must request
you to repeat them, as frequently as your avocations will
permit. With compliments to Mrs. , and family,
Believe me
Your sincere friend and Pastor,
Richard Channing Moore.
Having, by an arrangement with the Convention and
with the vestry of the Monumental Church, enjoyed the
aid of an assistant in his parish, it soon became evident to
himself and his friends that he required assistance also in
the duties of his large and increasing Diocese. According-
ly in his conventional address of 1828, the making the
necessary provision for this object was thus strongly re-
commended.
*' Before I conclude, there is one more point to which I
think it my duty to call the attention of this Convention :
and as a year must necessarily elapse before a final de-
termination of the question can take place, we shall have
full time allowed us for reflection and consideration.
" Although my labours the past year have been equal to
those of any preceding twelve months, still from my ad-
vanced age, it is impossible for me to calculate upon a long
continuance of such effort and exertion. It is my wish,
provided the Convention should think proper, so to alter
the constitution of the Church as to admit of the consecra-
tion of either a suffragan, or an assistant Bishop in this
Diocese. It was proposed several years ago, in consequence
of the great extent of this Diocese, to divide it into two
parts, in order that the parishes might receive Episcopal
visitations more frequently than is prescribed by the canons.
As this purpose can be secured by the appointment of a
LIFE OF BISHOP M00r3. 225
suffragan, or an assistant Bishop, I ^' ould recommend it to
the Convention so to alter the cons'^tution as to secure the
contemplated measure. It is my' sincere desire that a
Bishop should be appointed durin^- .ly life ; and as such an
appointment can now be made v, 1 perfect unanimity, it
is expedient that it should be one. It will give me
pleasure to unite in labour with tliV man of your choice.
It will render me happy in the hour of my departure, to
know the individual to whom I am to resign the arduous
duties of the Episcopate ; to whose care this peaceful, quiet
Diocese shall be committed. May the Almighty direct us
in all our doings with his most gracious favour, and further
us with his continual help."
In compliance with the earnest desire thus expressed, the
Convention adopted the necessary preliminary measures,
and at the earliest practicable period effected the proposed
change in the constitution, and immediately proceeded to
act under it by electing the Rev. "Wm. Meade, D. D.,
assistant Bishop of the Diocese. The lovely character,
well known talents, and unaffected piety of this gentle-
man rendered him an almost universal favourite in his
native state — while his long and faithful labours for the
good of the Church had secured for him an amount of
influence possessed by no other clergyman in the Diocese,
and proved him well adapted to the work of Episcopal
supervision. But in the very act of complying with the
wish of their venerable father by choosing an assistant in
the labours of the Episcopate, the Convention, for some
reason unknown and unexplained, saw fit to refuse him the
gratification he had desired in knowing the individual to
whom he would resign the charge of the Church on his
demise, by withholding from the assistant the right of suc-
cession, and reserving to itself the power of electing a suc-
T
\
\
226 MEMOI OF THE LIFE OF BISHOP MOOEE.
cesser to the Diocesa • Bishop after his decease. This re-
striction was so unacct, otable to the General Convention of
1829, that, although n) objection was made to the charac-
ter and qualifications 9 the Bishop elect, the House of
Clerical and Lay Depu .s were far from being unanimous
in signing the requiri : testimonials, and the House of
Bishops, before proce, -ding to the consecration, entered
their protest against the principle involved in the restric-
tion as of dangerous tendency, and expressed the confident
hope and belief that the Virginia Convention, even if the
legality of their act in this particular should be conceded,
would rescind it, from regard for the purity of the Epis-
copate and the harmony of the Church. This hope was
not disappointed. The Virginia Convention of 1830, by
a large majority removed the objectionable restriction,
and cordially approved of the canon adopted in General
Convention of the preceding year, prescribing the circum-
stances under which assistant Bishops may be elected, de-
fining their duties, and securing to them, in all cases, the
right of succession to their diocesans, should they survive
them.
This result was highly gratifying to Bishop Moore. He
now not only had the pleasure of sharing his arduous duties
with a faithful assistant, but enjoyed the additional happi-
ness of knowing that, whenever it should please Providence
to take him to his rest, the charge of his *' peaceful and
quiet Diocese" would devolve upon one who was worthy
of confidence and love.
CHAPTER VI.
From 1829 to 1841.
The expediency of having Assistant Bishops. Canonical restrictions as
to their election, growing out of the case of Virginia. Bishop Moore's
letter expressing his gratification at the election of Bishop Meade. A
valuable relief to him. Performs Episcopal duties in Maryland. Con-
servative influences in the Church. Assisted at the consecration of Bishop
Stone and preached on the occasion. His continued delight in Associa-
tions and Revivals. Recommendation of weekly fT erings. Inadequate
support of the clergy. Missionary efforts recommended. His zeal for
the Church, and readiness to defend it. Letters of condolence. Prayer
for an inquirer after truth. His ardent love for his children. Specimens
of his domestic correspondence. His opinion of the " Tracts for the Times."
Was he a High or Low Churchman 1 He did all in a spirit of prayer.
His love for the meetings of the Virginia Convention, and farewell addresses
at their close. His frequent excursions. Visit to Baltimore in the fall of
1839, and again in 1840, to assist in the consecration of Bishop Whitting-
ham. His visit to Westchester, Pa., in August, 1841. Attendance at the
General Convention. Strong testimony in reference to Foreign Mission-
ary Bishops. Visitation to Lynchburg — statement of his last illness and
death. The monument erected over his remains. Sketch of his character.
Conclusion.
The question of the expediency of having such officers in
the Church as Assistant, or Suffragan Bishops, is one at-
tended with great difficulties. The General Convention
was actuated by a wise and prudential regard for the quiet
and prosperity of our dioceses, in prohibiting the appoint-
ment of Suffragan Bishops, and in restricting the privilege
of electing an Assistant Bishop to those cases of great ne-
cessity, when the " old age, or other permanent cause of
228 MEMOIR OF THE
infirmity," renders the Bishop of the diocese " unable to
discharge his Episcopal duties;" in requiring the assist-
ant to confine himself to the " performance of such Episco-
pal duties and to the exercise of such Episcopal authority
as the Bishop shall assign him — except the inability of the
Bishop to make such assignment shall be declared by the
Convention;" and in declaring that there "shall never be
more than one Assistant Bishop in a Diocese at the same
time."
In the absence of such rigid legislation on the subject,
we might conceive of a variety of evils and disorders that
would arise from the allowance of this description of offi-
cers in the Church. To say nothing of those which might
result from the vaulting ambition of assistants, (and we
must remember that human nature, in its best estate, is ex-
ceedingly corrupt, and that no elevation, even in ecclesias-
tical office and dignity, affords exemption from its common
infirmities and passions ;) we might naturally expect that
the Senior Bishop would look with a feeling of jealousy
and distrust upon the rising honours and influence of his
junior associate, fearing that his own would decrease ex-
actly in proportion as those of the other increased : that
the more active " overseer" would receive all the credit
of the prosperity and good that might be achieved by their
joint superintendence and labours ; that his lustre would
be extinguished before the brightness of the culminating
star which had more recently arisen ; till at length, shorn
of every thing which constitutes the true glory of his office,
he would be pitied as an imbecile who had outlived his use-
fulness, rather than venerated and beloved, as one entitled
to peculiar honours, because his energies had been worn
out in a life of self-denial and toil for the Church of God.
We are happy to say, however, that there was no ground
LIFE OF BISHOP MOORE. 229
afforded for the exercise of jealousy or unkind feeling be-
tween the two Bishops of Virginia. Bishop Moore was
ever ready to acknowledge that his relations with his as-
sistant were such as enabled him to say, as Paul did of
Timothy, " like a son he hath served with me in the Gos-
pel." Bishop Meade also declared, in his address to the
Convention next succeeding the death of the Senior Bishop,
that not the slightest difference had ever arisen between
them ; but their joint official duties had been prosecuted
with the utmost harmony, confidence, and affection.
The feelings of Bishop Moore, in relation to his assistant,
may be inferred from the following extract from one of his
letters, in answer to a correspondent who had, probably,
desired an expression of his opinion on the subject of the
election which had then recently been made, and also sug-
gested that he should publish a narrative of the success
which had attended his labours in the Episcopate.
TO REV. DR. , 0\ THE ELECTION OF BISHOP MEADE.
July 6, 1829.
" Rev. and dear Sir, — Your favour of the 24th ult. was
duly received, but, in consequence of my absence from
home, T have not had it in my power to reply to its con-
tents at an earlier period. The election of Dr. Meade to
the Episcopate produced in my mind all that satisfaction
connected with so favourite a measure ; and I trust that
his labours will be abundantly blessed to this diocese in par-
ticular, and to the Church in general. Providence has, I
conceive, marked him out for the office; and the unani-
mous vote of the Convention must have been truly grate-
t2
230 MEMOIE OF THE
ful to his mind. I have no fears either in relation to his cou-
secration,or his succession as diocesan Bishop. For me to pub-
hsh at this moment a view of the state of the Church, such
as the circumstances of her prosperity would justify, would,
in my opinion, savour too much of egotism, and subject me
to unkind remarks. Such a work, if ever executed, should
be drawn up by some other person ; it would obtain more
credence, and save me from the charge of religious pride.
I can truly say that it has been my wish to walk humbly
with those connected with me, and, if in any instance T
have departed from that principle, aberration has arisen
from a defect in judgment, and from no wish to be assuming.
I have arrived, my dear Sir, at such an advanced time of
life, that I have few worldly wishes to gratify, and it is my
desire to fall into the grave with the love and benediction
of the diocese I have served. The belief that one affec-
tionate tear, from the eye of any of my clergy, would fall
on my tomb, would be more grateful to my heart, than ten
thousand constrained expressions of regard. * * # *"
The consecration of Dr. Meade, which took place in
August, 1829, was an event which relieved the Diocesan
Bishop from the most painful and laborious part of his
itinerating duties, and afforded him a degree of repose from
the pressure of responsibility and toil, grateful and ne-
cessary to one of his advanced years, and one so often
afflicted with severe bodily sufferings. There was, how-
ever, no desire on his part to relinquish the exercise of his
Episcopal functions, or to shrink from the discharge of any
duty which it was in his power to perform. From the
period of his consecration, the chief burden of visitation
fell upon the Assistant; but the Diocesan, with unabated
LIFE OF BISHOP MOOEE. 231
zeal and energy, continued to visit those parishes which
were easy of access, and to perform many acts which con-
tributed to the salvation of souls, and the welfare of the
Church.
During the vacancy in the Episcopate of Maryland,
from the year 1827 to 1830, he kindly consented, in com-
pliance with the request of the Standing Committee, to
perform such Episcopal acts in that sister diocese, as the
the clergy and vestries of the respective parishes might
desire of him. The greater part of those acts desired by
the parishes on the Western Shore, were performed by his
Assistant Bishop ; as those desired in the parishes on the
Eastern Shore of the Bishop of Pennsylvania, were by the
Assistant Bishop of that diocese. The Diocesan of Vir-
ginia, however, officiated personally on one occasion — the
consecration of Trinity Church, Washington ; as did the
Diocesan of Pennsylvania, in presiding at the trial of Dr.
Clowes ; and both those venerable men favoured us with
their presence on the joyful occasion of the termination of
the protracted strife in the Church of Maryland, at the
consecration of Dr. Stone, in Baltimore, October 21, 1830.
Bishop White acted as chief consecrator, and Bishop Moore
preached an appropriate sermon. It was an occasion of
warm congratulation to the diocese and to the Church at
large; and never did the preacher appear more in his ele-
ment, than in pouring forth the full feelings of his grateful
heart for God's goodness, in inclining the two parties in the
diocese, of nearly equal strength and numbers, to sacrifice
their long cherished partialities on the altar of charity, and
unite in selecting as their Bishop, one who, though unknown
to fame, had, in his retired position, adorned the Gospel by
a life of faith and holiness, and by the exemplary discharge
of his duties as Rector of a country parish, proved himself
232 MEMOIR OF THE
to be a simple-hearted, faithful minister of the cross. Those
who were present at that joyful season, will not soon forget
the sweet strains of melting tenderness — like those of the
disciple whom Jesus loved — in which the aged preacher
exhorted those who are members of the same household to
maintain the faith in unity of spirit, in the bond of peace,
and in righteousness of life.
The perfect unanimity which characterized that Epis-
copal election, after the peace of the diocese had been dis-
turbed by a three years' contest, is one of the many
instances recorded in our ecclesiastical annals, of the con-
servative power of Church principles; and which afford
ground for the belief that our communion can never be
forced to present, for any great length of time, the aspect
of "a house divided against itself" Any conflict arising
out of difference of opinion, vthich may exist for a season,
will be brought to an end, by a general disposition to rally
around certain great fundamental principles which we hold
in common, as of far more elevated importance than any
matters of private opinion. And those differences which
may arise out of partialities for particular men, will be
reconciled by a willingness to sacrifice the regards of per-
sonal friendship for the sake of promoting general harmony.
There are men to be found, who, if they be destitute of
those peculiar qualities which excite the enthusiastic sup-
port of partizans, are possessed of those moral qualifications
for office, which, in combination with sound sense, and ju-
dicious moderation, command the respect and confidence
of all.
The increasing age and infirmities of the subject of this
Memoir had no influence, apparently, in abating the ardour
of his zeal, or in lessening his spiritual enjoyment in the
service of God. At times, even after he had passed the
LIFE OF BISHOP MOOUE. 233
limit of three score years and ten, he preached with as
much pathos and power, manifested the same deep interest
and engagedness amidst the hallowed scenes connected
with a revival of religion, and was as prompt in the sug-
gestion and execution of measures for the advancement of
truth and godliness, as ever. We had the pleasure of
spending a few days of active public duty in his company
and that of other beloved friends in the ministry, in the
summer of 1831, at Alexandria, D. C, and we may safely
say, that his services were, on that occasion, as interesting
and effective as we had ever known them to be, even in
the vigour of his health, and the meridian of his manhood.
Of that delightful " season of refreshing from the presence
of the Lord," he thus spoke in his address to the Virginia
Convention in 1832. "I then embarked for Alexandria,
at which place we held an association. On that occasion
we were joined by a number of the clergy of this Diocese
and of Maryland, and were assisted in our labours by the
Rev. Dr. Henshaw, and the Rev. Mr. Johns, of Baltimore,
and Rev. Dr. Bedell, of Philadelphia. To say that our
meeting at that time was instructive and agreeable, would
be expressing myself in language too faint for the occasion.
A spirit of great zeal and fervour and devotion appeared
to animate every bosom, the congregations were deeply
solemn and attentive, and overflowing; many were awak-
ened to the consideration of eternal things, and openly
avowed their love and gratitude to the Almighty. It would
rejoice my heart, brethren, to witness a similar evidence of
divine influence in every parish in the Diocese. As a proof
of the devotional feeling which prevailed, more especially
among the young, I with pleasure announce to the Con-
vention, that I confirmed, during my visit, upwards of
ninety persons."
234 MEMOIE OF THE
While the Bishop richly enjoyed such seasons himself,
he was sincerely desirous that others might be sharers in
the benefit. That the spiritual exercises connected with
them, was what gave to the Virginia Conventions their
chief attraction in his eyes, and that he desired the presence
and assistance of his brethren on those occasions that
(partly at least.) while * watering others they might be
watered also themselves,' is manifest from the following
letter to Bishop Ravenscroft.
March 19th, 1828.
Rt. Rev. and Dear Sir, — The last meeting of our Con-
vention in Fredericksburg was one of the most interesting
that I have ever witnessed. It was thought that there
were at least 1200 visiters in that place on that occasion,
and those visiters, people of the first distinction in our
country. [ look forward to our contemplated meeting in
Petersburg with hope, and should it please God to bless us
with such a sense of his presence as was enjoyed in Fred-
ericksburg, it will meet the most sincere expression of grati-
tude. It would afford me the greatest satisfaction, could
you make it convenient to visit Petersburg at that time ;
and I have no doubt all your old friends would be pleased
to see you also. V'ou once delighted to be with us, and it
is my belief, you would be delighted again; for if I know
you, and I think I do, you are not adverse to the most ar-
dent expression of devotion. I am now an old man, and
cannot be far distant from that country to which we are
all hastening, and as I believe we shall experience no cold-
ness in heaven, I do not see why the Church below should
not taste a little of that joy of which we hope to partake
in another, and a belter world. You must perceive that I
am now addressing you as I formerly did, when you resided
LIFE or BISHOP HOOKE. 236
in Virginia ; and, should the friendly expression 1 use touch
that chord of affection which used to beat in perfect uni-
son with my own feelings, you will not be offended with me.
I love order, I love the Liturgy of the Church with all the
powers of my heart, but am of opinion that our services,
instead of producing formality, are calculated to make us
feel, and rejoice, and give thanks.
Your affectionate
Friend and brother,
Richard Channing Moore.
Bishop RAVEifscROFT.
At every succeeding Convention he had the pleasure of
learning, from the parochial reports, that the progress of
the Church was still onward, and that, by God's blessing
upon the Seminary, the number of faithful and devoted
ministers was constantly increasing. Of the fifty-six cler-
gymen belonging to the diocese in 1833, no less than forty-
four had received the sacred commission through the im-
position of his hands ; and, it is probable, that of nearly
double the number, who were subject to his Episcopal juris-
diction at the time of his death, an equally large propor-
tion had been ordained by him.
In his stated addresses to the Convention, from year to
year, we find him generally employing the language of con-
gratulation and encouragement. With a united clergy and
a prosperous diocese, he seldom had occasion to speak in
terms of censure or reproof; but he sometimes found it
necessary to " stir up the pure minds" of his brethren by
way of remembrance — to invite them to greater zeal in
the service of the Lord — to higher liberality in sustaining
the institutions of the Gospel, and to greater energy in all
the departments of well-doing. For example, in his Con-
236 MEMOIR OF THE
ventional address of 183(3, he distinctly recognized the im-
portant ; but much neglected duty of systematic charity,
places it upon the ground of apostolic precept and example,
and earnestly exhorts every Churchman in Virginia to lay
aside, on the first day of the week, a portion of his earn-
ings or receipts, " as the Lord hath prospered him," to be
sacredly devoted to the great cause of Christian benevo-
lence.
We rejoice that several of our younger Bishops have
taken the same ground, and boldly advocate the " weekly
offerings unto the Lord," as a substitute for the irregular
and spasmodic contributions made under the excitement of
particular occasions heretofore relied on for sustaining the
benevolent operationsjof the Church. We are satisfied that
in this, as well as every other matter of Christian obliga-
tion, the apostolic model is the only one worthy of imita-
tion. The plan of regular, systematic, weekly contribu-
tions in the Church, where our prayers and our alms may
go up together as a memorial before God, contains in itself
the proper exhibition of the true principle of Christian
charity. If this plan should be universally adopted, as we
trust in God it may be, the sacred gifts of faith and love
would be abundantly compensated in the increased bestow-
ment of spiritual blessings from on high. God, in confor-
mity to his sure promise, would open the windows of hea-
ven, and pour out upon us a blessing till there should not be
room enough to contain it : Christians would realize, in
their increase of religious joy, that " it is more blessed to
give than to receive ;" the Church would cease to be pre-
sented in the degrading attitude of a beggar ; and her trea-
sury, steadily replenished by the beneficent gifts of her chil-
dren, would overflow, and pour a constant stream of bless-
ings upon the world. With the revival of primitive charity,
LIFE OF BISHOP MOORE. 237
we should behold a revival of primitive godliness, and of
primitive expansion.
In connexion with the above topic, and as affording a
powerful argument for the enforcement of the duty, the
Bishop referred in strong terms to the inadequate provi-
sion made for the support of the clergy. If Virginia
has ever been, in reference to this matter, sarcastically-
spoken of as " the land of promise," it is to be hoped that
whatever is reproachful in the epithet her sons will endea-
vour to wipe off, by making it also the land of performance.
Well would it be if the parishes and vestries of other dio-
ceses would give heed to those wise and timely counsels of
the departed father which were the result of long expe-
rience and wide extended observation.
" The Convention must be sensible that in the plea which
I now offer in behalf of the clergy, I am not pleading for
a support unreasonable and extravagant. I ask only for a
sufficiency to enable them to live in comfort. I ask not for
any of the luxuries of life. I am only soliciting for a provision
which will enable their children to appear in the society
in which they move, decently habited, and properly in-
structed. Should the minds of any of the people of our
charge be impressed with the idea that this is already the
situation of the clergy embraced in the proposal, a journey
through some of our parishes would convince them of their
mistake. On a late tour through an extensive district of
this diocese, I met with an instance of extreme penury in
the case of a truly pious, well educated, and excellent
clergyman belonging to our communion. Patient under
his sufferings, humble as a little child, he poured no com-
plaint whatever in my ears: but, being told by a wealthy
and humane neighbour of his wants, I was surprised at the
fortitude he manifested, and the silence he had observed,
238 MEMOIR OF THE
and when, returning to my home, I mentioned his situation
to some ladies of my congregation, they, moved by those
feeHngs of compassion peculiar to their sex, promptly sent
him some temporary assistance.
" As a proof of the benefits which may be reasonably ex-
pected from the adoption and prosecution of the measure
submitted to your consideration, I think it my duty to pre-
sent to your view the former low condition and the present
prosperous state of the Church in my native diocese.
"At my admission to deacons' orders, forty-eight years
ago, I constituted the sixth or seventh clergyman in that
diocese — a diocese which now numbers two hundred la-
bourers in the vineyard of the Lord. The means to which
that astonishing increase may be chiefly attributed, is that
unremitting attention they have paid to the sustenance of
the clergy in their new parishes, hy relief from their 'mis-
sionary fund.
" By pursuing, my brethren, the same course, we may
expect similar results; and, should my valued Assistant in
the Episcopate live to my present age, he may look for a
similar increase in the clergy of this diocese, and behold,
in congregations now in a state of infancy, assemblies both
strong and numerous; and in others, which I trust will be
planted by his hand, he will, with joy of heart, behold them
growing into manhood, worshipping the God of their Fa-
thers with the same form of sound words with which they
worshipped him, and training up their children in the use
of that Liturgy which distinguishes our Zion — a Liturgy
which will defend her from heresy and schism, and secure
obedience to the faith once delivered to the saints."
Among the means which may be most successfully em-
ployed in the extension of the Church, that whicli holds a
rank next in importance to the services of living missiona-
ries, is the circulation of her forms of worship and stand-
LIFE OF BISHOP MOORE. 239
ards of doctrine, and of such publications as are explana-
tory and vindicative of both. Accordingly the Bishop
renewedly called the attention of the diocese to the im-
portant claims of the Prayer Book and Tract Society,
recommended the formation of auxiliaries to it in all the
parishes, and earnestly exhorted the members of the Church
to greater zeal and energy in the support of that interest-
ing institution.
Another important topic, referred to by him at the same
Convention, was the conduct of the Soiither7i Churchman,
a Hebdomadal paper, edited by one of the clergy, and in-
tended to sustain the interests of religion in the Church.
The charitable tone of the paper is spoken of in terms of
warm commendation, and the advice is strenuously given
that there may be no change in this respect ; but, that it
may continue to speak the truth in love : and that, while
its editor would " feel himself bound to inculcate and faith-
fully to guard the distinctive principles of the Protestant
Episcopal Church," he should do so without wantonly assail-
ing the principles or the prejudices of other Christian com-
munities, and "avoid controversy when controversy can
possibly be avoided."
If this " godly counsel" were followed by the editors of
all similar publications, it would no longer be a question
whether the religious periodical press be a blessing or a
curse. Then, instead of being the arena where ecclesias- \
tical gladiators display their skill and their malice, in fierce
attempts to hack each other in pieces, for the amusement
of a wicked world — it might prove, what it ought to be, a
valuable auxiliary to the Gospel : not only a radiating point
of light, but an instrument of extending the dominion of
holiness and peace among all Christian people.
But though Bishop Moore's tender and loving heart
240 BIE5I0IR OF THE
shrunk back, with instinctive dread, fronn the asperities of
controversy and " the strife of tongues" or pens — and he
was determined to connply with the Apostolic precept, " if
it be possible, as nrauch as lieth in you, live peaceably with
all men," — still he would not tamely look on, and see the
cause of truth suffer for want of vindication, nor allow the
Church of his affections to be rudely assailed and misre-
presented, without offering to speak a word in her defence.
A pleasing proof of this was afforded, when a proposal was
made, in " the Family Visiter," a Richmond paper, to pub-
lish a series of articles, which would be likely to conflict
with some cherished principles of Episcopalians. The pro-
posal drew forth the following communication to the editor
of that paper, and had the effect of frustrating the design.
Letter written upon seeing a paragraph in the Family
Visiter, signed " Historicus," proposing to give a history of
the Christian Church, from its commencement to the present
century :
To call in question the intention of " Ilistoricus" is not
my wish, as I believe himpcrfectly sincere in the views he
entertains of the integrity of his own Church: but as indi-
viduals of other denominations may be equally sincere with
himself, and as firmly established in the truth of their prin-
ciples, he cannot for a moment suppose that they will be
satisfied should you permit him to occupy exclusively the
pages of your paper. If I am not mistaken, it was the
opinion of a person, a few years since, with whom " Histori-
cus" is perhaps acquainted, that it is best for Christians, on
points not involving their salvation, to agree to disagree:
and I am also mistaken if the same person did not pro-
nounce, " Wo to the man who should commence the work
of discord." If the respectable individual alluded to was
LIFE OF BISHOP MOORE. 241
correct in his disapprobation of controversy at the time in
which he wrote, I do not see the necessity of departing
from the principle he laid down at the present moment. If
" Historicus," however, is determined to engage in the work,
I hope it will be remembered that it was commenced by
himself; and should the controversy, instead of producing
beneficial effects, prove prejudicial to the peace of society,
that he will acknowledge himself the author of all the
confusion which may ensue, and not charge the consequences
to those who act upon the defensive. As " Historicus" pro-
mises to fill two columns in your paper every week for
twelve months, it follows of course that he is a man of un-
common leisure ; but is it not possible todevote his time to
some more useful and benevolent purpose 1 Will not the
subject in question call up the angry passions of our nature,
and will it not separate those who are now living in har-
mony ? Will it not create divisions among Christians who
are walking in fellowship and love ?
As it respects myself, Messrs. Editors, 1 am no contro-
versialist. I have avoided it on many occasions, in which
others might, perhaps, have thought it their duty to have
insisted upon their peculiar views; but, sensible of those
differences of opinion which exist, my religious feelings
have enjoined silence upon me, and influenced me to pur-
sue that course which makes for peace. Senex.
Editors of the Family Visiter.
Happy would it be for the Christian world if those whose
opinions are entitled to weight from their station and years,
were always thus ready to interpose, and exert their influ-
ence to prevent the beginning of strife.
The good Bishop was eminently qualified, by his affec-
tionate and sympathizing heart, bv his deep Christian ex-
U.2
242 MEMOIR OF THE
perience, and by his intimate acquaintance with human
nature, under all the vicissitudes to which it is Hable in this
state of earthly being, to speak a word of encouragement
to the weary, of direction to the inquirer, and of consola-
tion to the afflicted. The following letters of advice and
condolence are spread upon these pages, in the belief, that
such effusions of wisdom and piety cannot fail to afford
pleasure and edification to the reader.
HIS ZEAL FOR THE CHURCH A LETTER TO MISS .
April 22, 1824.
Dear Miss, — The situation of the Church in H
County has very much engaged my attention ; and when
the abiUty of the people to support a minister of our deno-
mination has presented itself to my mind, I have been
obliged to consider their destitute state their fault, rather
than their misfortune. We are sometimes induced to sup-
pose that money contributed to the support of the gospel, as
it produces no pecuniary returns, is money thrown away;
whereas, could the subject be viewed through a proper
medium, it would appear evident that property thus be-
stowed, is property laid out to the greatest possible advan-
tage. Were we to inquire from what source have we
derived our wealth, and who it is that blesses us with health,
and capacity to enjoy it? Our hearts would reply — we
derive our blessings from God ; and it is to him that we
are indebted for all the comfort with which we are sur-
rounded. This being the case, should we not consider it a
privilege to make some little return to that kind benefactor
who crowns us with so many blessings ? The consideration
owever, deserving our attention, is the concern of eternity.
LIFE OF BISHOP BIOORE.
243
We are stewards, and must give an account of that
stewardship. We and our children possess immortal
spirits; and as those spirits are to be trained up for eternal
joys, it is our duty to provide ourselves, and them, with
such instructions as will qualify them for the enjoyment of
the God of our salvation. Few things have so beneficia
an effect upon society, as the regular observance of the
Lord's day. The duties peculiar to the Sabbath are cal-
culated to call home our wandering thoughts, and to lead
the mind to reflect upon death — the grave — eternity.
However lightly we may think of religion, still there is no
parent whose bosom would not beat with joy at the tri-
umphant departure of a child; and no child of reflection
whose bosom would not glow with rapture at discovering
a beloved parent dying in the sure expectation of eternal
felicity. To experience such happiness, we must enlist
under the banner of Christ Jesus, and practise the duties
he has prescribed for our observance: " not every one that
saith Lord, Lord, shall enter into the kingdom of heaven,
but he that doeth the loilloi my father which is in heaven."
A vain faith in the Lord Jesus will profit us nothing; we
must be actively engaged in duty ; for faith, without works,
is dead, being alone. It is impossible that a parent can
devote a portion of his income to better purpose than in
advancing the cause of the Gospel. The morals of his
children will receive a favourable bias from the wholesome
instructions of the sanctuary. The remen;brance of God
will be kept alive by the service of the Church, and so-
ciety will feel and bend to its effects. Your communica-
tion, so far from being considered obtrusive, has produced
in my mind the greatest satisfaction. I am rejoiced to
perceive that God has not left himself without a witness in
H , and that the cause of our merciful Redeemer pos-
244 MEMOIR OF THE
sesses so warm, so able, and so faithful an advocate. Go
on, Miss C , go on ! and nnay the Lord Jesus Christ
bless your endeavours, and render you an instrunnent of
advancing the cause of his Church. You will find, I have
no doubt, willing coadjutors in some of your companions.
Unite your efforts; put forth all your strength; infuse into
the minds of your young acquaintances the same desires
which warm your heart. Pray earnestly — pray for divine
assistance; and rely upon it, God will sanctify your exer-
tions ; and of this grain of mustard-seed, form a tree, under
the umbrage of which your friends may sit with delight,
and find the fruit sweet to their taste."
OF CO.VDOLENCE.
Richmond, July 25lh, 1S32.
Very Dear Sir, — I was informed yesterday of the sud-
den and unexpected death of your late amiable and ex-
cellent wife; and most sincerely do I sympathize with you
and your children on the melancholy occasion. When in
N , during the niglit of the 16th inst., upon my inquir-
ing in relation to the health of yourself and household, I
was assured that you were all well ; and left under the im-
pression, that upon the next visit I should meet you all in
health, and again form one of your happy family circle.
But events have given us another evidence that man in-
deed " Cometh up, and is cut down like a flower ; he fleeth
as it were a shadow, and never continueth in one stay."
In that bitter cup of adversity with which it has pleased
the Almighty to visit you, there is a mixture of consolation;
and though you cannot but grieve, still you sorrow not as
those without hope. The mind of your departed friend
LIFE OF BISHOP MOORE. 245
was deeply impressed with gratitude to God for his mercies
both temporal and spiritual. The Saviour formed the rock
of her dependence ; and to do good, and to distribute to her
fellow-mortals, out of the abundance she possessed, consti-
tuted one of her chief enjoyments. The sincerity of her
religious professions, no one who knew her could for a mo-
ment doubt; her unusual frankness of disposition; the urba-
nity of her manners ; her hospitality ; and the affection
which f always received at her hands, had given her a
place in my bosom, which I cannot find language to ex-
press; and should I be permitted to visit N , I shall
find a chasm in the circle of my friends, which very few,
if any, can perfectly fill. Her house was my home; and the
pillow on which I rested my head was always softened by
her tenderness and filial regard. Tell your dear children
that I deeply feel their bereavement, and sincerely pray
that their afi[liction, under which they mourn, may be so
sanctified by God's grace, that it may wean them from
an undue attachment to the world, and may work for them
a far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory. Tell
them that their mother's happy spirit bids them to lookup-
ward, and calls them to set their afiectionson things above.
That the Almighty may take you, my beloved, and your
children, in his holy keeping, is the devout supplication of
Your sincere friend and Pastor,
R. C. MooRE.
TO WILLIAM M .
Oct. 29th, 1823.
My Dear Sir, — It was during the alarming illness of my
beloved F , that I heard of the death of your dear
246 MEMOIR OF THE
daughter, or you would have immediately received the
assurance of my sympathy and condolence. Adversity is
the lot of human nature, and had it pleased the Almighty
to spare your child, she must have inherited, in common
with us all, a share in the distresses incident to our state.
Is it not, therefore, a happiness to know tiiat she is placed
beyond the reach of trouble ; and that sorrow and she have
shaken hands for ever 1 Could we draw aside the curtain,
and witness the felicity of those who have entered into
bliss; instead of giving place to grief, our bosoms would be
dilated with joy ; and upon the knee of gratitude, we should
thank the Almighty for releasing our children from distress,
and giving them a seat at his right hand. The Lord Jesus,
when speaking of children, has said, " Of such is the king-
dom of heaven." Oh! be satisfied, my dear M , with
the dealings of your heavenly Father, and let the assu-
rance of your child's happiness dry up your tears, and heal
your broken heart. Her spirit will be among the first to
meet you on the shores of Zion ; and when she sees her
parents ascending in the chariot of immortality, her heart
will vibrate with pleasure ; she will bid you welcome
to the i-ealms of bliss. Her departure contains a call, to
all her friends, from their God and Saviour: "Be ye also
ready," is the admonition it conveys. Give my love to
Mrs. M , and believe me, what I have ever been since
I first knew you,
Your sincere friend and grateful Pastor,
R. C. MoORE.
P. S. Your son intimated to me it was your wish I
should perform the last solemnities for your child. Should
such be the case, you have only to express it, and f will
hasten to discharge the duty, and to visit your parish.
R. C. Moore.
LIFE OF BISHOP MOORE. 247
TO THE SAME.
January 31st, 1824.
My Dear Sir, — Your communication by your son came
duly to hand ; for which, as well as for the present he con-
veyed to me, I must entreat you to accept my most sincere
thanks. Your former liberality was considered by me as an
ample remuneration for my services ; so that the last dona-
tion was entirely unexpected and unlocked for. I am fully
of opinion, my beloved Mr. M , that a regard for your
health, and the preservation of your life for the benefit of
your family, renders it necessary that you should leave
your retirement, and make a visit to your friends in Rich-
mond. The mind is as liable to indisposition as the body ;
and as you would conceive it your duty to apply remedies
for the removal of bodily disease, so you must acknowledge
it equally a duty to succour and relieve the mind, by the
adoption of such remedies as are applicable to its condition.
I know what mental suffering is, and I can assure you from
experience, that there is nothingso well calculated to abate
the pangs of distress as the conversation of those who can
both feel and sympathize with us. The mind sometimes
becomes so oppressed that it loses its elasticity, and repre-
sents objects to our view through a jaundiced medium ;
under such a state of things we are apt to consider our-
selves the subject of sorrows so peculiar as to shut out from
our view every thing like hope; when in fact no distress
hath assailed us, but such as is common to man. We live
to make our children happy, and when we think their hap-
piness is secured, we feel contented. Now, my friend,
however pleasing the prospects of your surviving children
may be, and however great the happiness is which they
248 MEMOIR OF THE
enjoy, yet you must acknowledge that their felicity bears
no comparison whatever with the happiness of your de-
parted daughter. The enjoyments of which they partake
are subject to diminution and change; whereas the enjoy-
ment of your angel child is as firmly fixed as the everlast-
ing hills. She rests from all the labours of life on the bosom
of the Saviour, and enjoys the light of his reconciled coun-
tenance. If turning a straw would bring my children from
above, that straw never should be turned by me, and
whatever may be your reflections now, I am sensible that,
in a little time, you will think so too. They have gone be-
fore us and anxiously await our entrance into bliss. Let
us, my beloved M , trim our lamps. The moment is
necessarily drawing near which will separate us, I trust,
from sorrow, and introduce us into bliss. God grant that
we and our dear wives and children may be prepared for
the event, and at last received into heaven, with the wel-
come salutation of " come ye blessed of my father." Give
our love to Mrs. M., and to all who think of me, and
Believe me in great truth.
Your sincere friend and Pastor,
R. C. MooRE.
TO MRS. DR. WILMER.
September 5th, 1827.
My Dear Madam, — The bereavement you have sustain-
ed constitutes a distress in which 1 sensibly participate:
and by which the Church, of which your dear husband was
so conspicuous a member, has been most severely alllicted.
Being absent from home during the time of his illness, I was
unconscious of his situation. I had heard, it is true, that he
LIFE OF BISHOP MOORE. 249
had been seized with a chill three or four days after I left
him; but supposing that it was an attack of simple ague
and fever, I pleased myself with the idea that he had re-
tired from Williamsburg, and had taken passage with
his family to Alexandria. Under this impression I rested
satisfied, and knew nothing to the contrary until 1 was
aroused from my security by an obituary notice of his
death. Affliction, my dear friend, is the lot of mortals, and
as the departure of our connexions forms an event una-
voidable in its nature, it is our duty to submit with resigna-
tion, and to say with Eli, "It is the Lord, let him do what
seemeth him good." In the cup which the Almighty hath
given you to drink there is much consolation, and the more
highly you esteemed your departed companion for his
virtues, you must remember that those virtues rendered
him better prepared for the change through which he has
passed, and fitted him for the enjoyment of eterral felicity.
Could you witness the happiness to which he is now
exalted, much as you loved him, you would not wish him
back ; but on the contrary, would rejoice at his escape
from all trouble, and strive with renewed efforts to prepare
to meet him in a better world. These sentiments flow from
a heart alive to his value; you know the place he occupied
in my affections; the confidence I reposed in his integrity.
He was truly the man of my counsel; not a step did I take
in the concerns of the Church without asking the benefit of
his advice. We walked together as friends, and from my
knowledge of his virtues, it was my wish to have had him
connected with me in my parochial charge and to have
laboured with me in the same pulpit. His labours are now
concluded, and he is reaping a full harvest of happiness, in
the Church triumphant in heaven. It is God, who has
promised to be the husband of the widow, and the fathe
250 MEaroiR of the
of the fatherless: and as he possesses the ability as well as
the inclination to fulfil his word, to him I commend you and
your infant charge. Take your children in the arms of
prayer, and carry them to your Saviour : a mother's petition
he will hear and renderyour little family a blessing to you
and to those connected with them. That the Almighty
may place beneath you the everlasting arms of his love,
and carry your lambs in his bosom,
Is the sincere prayer of
Your affectionate friend,
R. C. Moore.
TO A YOUNG LADY.
March 5th, 1834.
My dear Child, — Your affectionate mother has received
your last communication containing a representation of the
state of your mind, flowing, as you observe, from a conscious-
ness of your ingratitude to God, and that want of conformi-
ty to his precepts, which the Almighty has a right to re-
quire of all his intelligent creatures. The state of convic-
tion, as you term it, constitutes a truth with which we must
be acquainted, before we can be disposed to correct our
errors, or change our habits.
While in the enjoyment of health, we are insensible to
the true value and importance of medical assistance; and
it is a bed of sickness alone which renders us alive to the
value of a good Physician ; such is precisely the case in
spiritual matters ; for until the Almighty, through the in-
fluence of his Holy Spirit, convinces us of our sins, and
opens to our view our departure from his commands, we
feel no disposition to ask his forgiveness; considering ourselves
LIFE OF BISHOP MOORE. 251
whole, we require no aid superior to the powers of our own
understanding, to enable us to regulate our lives. But
when the holy law of God is presented to our view by the
light of divine grace, and we compare our past conduct
with the requisitions of that law, we become sensible that
instead of having loved him with all our heart, we have
neglected and forgotten him ; that instead of keeping his
Sabbath holy, we have devoted it to worldly purposes: that
so far from having honoured our parents, we have rebelled
against their authority: that although we have not openly
violated the other precepts, still we have not complied with
their spiritual import. When God by his Holy Spirit thus
shows us that we are sinners, our hearts become so much
alive to the danger of our condition, that we are induced to
fly to the Saviour, as our refuge from the storm of God's
displeasure, and by sincere and ardent prayer to entreat
his forgiveness, and to solicit his grace that we may love
him more and serve him more faithfully in future. It is
under such circumstances that we understand the meaning
of St. Peter who has said, " Unto you which believe he is
precious." It is then we comprehend the declaration of the
Saviour, when he said, "The whole need not a Physician,
but they who are sick. I came not to call the righteous, but
sinners to repentance : The Son of Man came to seek and
to save that which was lost." There is no greater evi-
dence, my child, of the love of God, than to be convinced
of sin in general, and of our own sin in particular: and the
disposition you now evince of loving and serving your God
and Saviour, is a greater gift, than if the Almighty had left
you in a thoughtless state of mind, though he had made you
the possessor of the whole world. Look up then, I beseech
you, with perfect confidence in his mercy ; you are already
a possessor of the surest token of his favour that you could
252 MEMOIR OF THE
desire. You feel spiritually sick : and you have a Physician
both able and willing to cure your disease. He is always
at hand, never absent, and more ready to hear than you
are to pray, and at this moment extends to you the positive
assurance, and certain promise, " Him that cometh unto
me, 1 will in no wise cast out." Yes, my child, I repeat it,
look up to thai Saviour, with perfect confidence, who shed
his blood for your salvation, " who tasted death for every
man," whose blood cleanseth from all sin, and you will soon
find that " they who sow in tears, shall reap in joy." Let
me hear from you again. Lay open to my view all your
feelings, and desires, and it shall be my delight to commu-
nicate comfort to your mind; and remember that much as
your parents love you, the Lord Jesus Christ loves you
still more, aud has proved the boundless nature of his affec-
tion by shedding liis blood for your salvation.
TO A YOUiVG MAN.
February 16ih, 1835.
My young Friend, — I have received a letter from your
venerable father dated the 10th inst. in which he in-
formed me of those serious impressions which have lately
been made on your mind, and has requested me to address
you on the occasion. Could I have conversed with you
upon the subject, and been better acquainted with the ex-
ercises of mind through which you have passed, I, of course?
would have it more in my power to judge of your religious
change. The unity however which I have ever found in
the experience of all Christians will enable me to drop you
a few hints by which you will be enabled to draw some
reasonable conclusions, in relation to the variety of your
own exercises. As all men are sinners, and of course
obnoxious in their natural stale to the divine displeasure, the
LIFE OF BISHOP MOOEE. 253
first effect produced by divine grace on the mind is a con-
viction of sin. — This conviction of sin leads us to the
Almighty for forgiveness, from whom only it can beobtained.
The awakened sinner pleads for mercy through the merits
of the Saviour : the language of his heart is that of the
publican, " God be merciful to me a sinner" — and, in deep
penitence and sorrow of mind for his past offences, he flies
to the bosom of his heavenly father, and in the penetrating
accents of the Prodigal, confesses his transgressions, and
entreats for a restoration to the divine favour. Prayer,
which was once a burden, now constitutes his enjoyment :
he turns with abhorrence from all sinful practices, and his
inquiry is, *' teach me to do thy will, for thou art my God,"
or with St. Paul, "Lord what wilt thou have me to do?"
His mind being thus changed, he looks for new companions,
and instead of associating with the thoughtless, as he once
did, " he makes much of those who love the Lord." The
Bible, which contains the promises of mercy to poor offen-
ders, constitutes in his view a book preferable to all others:
" his delight is in the law of the Lord, and therein he medi-
tates day and night." He loves the house of God, and es-
teems the Sabbath his delight, and keeps it holy. A person
whose experience comprehends the above features of
character is, literally speaking, a new creature, " old things
are done away, and all things are become new." Or in other
words, he now abhors what he once loved, and now loves
what he once disliked : such as prayer, the holy Sabbath,
the sacred Scriptures, religious friends. You must permit
me to express the hope that you will not suffer your affec-
tions to be weaned from the Church of your fathers, but
that you will recollect the attachment of your ancestors,
and your parents, and numerous family, to the Episcopal
Church, and that you will throw the weight of your influence
w2
254 MEMOIR OF THE
in her scale. 1 remember when administering the Lord's
Supper to your grandmother a few years since there were
kneeling around her in her sick room upwards of thirty of
her children, and grandchildren ; and as they all belonged
to the same communion, I trust that you will find it your
duty and pleasure, at a proper time, to follow their ex-
ample, and to tread in their steps. I hope to hear from
you soon, and promise to attend with promptitude to your
letters.
Believe me, my young friend.
Yours very alTectionately,
R. C. MoORE.
To these letters the following prayer is a suitable accom-
paniment.
Prayer for an inquirer after truth ; composed for the
use of the afflicted husband of my late beloved parishioner
M. T. L.
"Almighty God, whose ways are in the deep, whose
paths are in the great waters, and whose footsteps are not
known, look down, I beseech thee, in parental tenderness,
upon thy afflicted servant ; and hasten to my relief. Hum-
bled in the dust, I lift my eyes to thee, my great Creator,
and solicit an interest in thy favour, and loving kindness.
I confess, most gracious God, that I have sinned against
heaven and in thy sight, I presume not to plead guiltless
before thee : but acknowledge that I have done things
I ought not to have done, and that I have left undone
things I ought to have done. As my maker, protector, and
provider, thou art entitled to my respect and gratitude —
still, notwithstanding the unbounded mercies I have expe-
LIFE OF BISHOP MOORE. 255
rienced, I have neglected my duty to thee; and have been
unthankful for thy favours. Forgive me, oh, my God, all
that is past, and enable me to love thee with all my heart,
and to serve thee faithfully, in future. Oh, my God, the
heavy hand of affliction is upon me ; and my heart, and my
flesh fail me for very trouble. In thy holy word it is writ-
ten, that thou wilt make the affliction of those who love thee
work for them an exceeding great and eternal weight
of glory. Oh, fulfil thy divine promise; and sanctify the
distress under which I labour, to my present and future
comfort. Thou hast taken from me, blessed God ! the wife
of my bosom ; oh lead me by the influences of thy Spirit to
that Saviour, in whom she trusted and believed ; that I may
find rest for my poor soul. It was in the Lord Jesus that
she placed her dependence for all things necessary, both in
time and eternity : and I am a witness, heavenly Father,
that the Saviour, in whom she believed, did never leave
nor forsake her. He was her protector and her guide in
sickness and in death : Oh ! that the God and Saviour of
her for whom I mourn, may be my God and Saviour. Oh!
that the Redeemer, in whose blood she trusted for salvation,
may be my Redeemer, Come, Lord Jesus, and make me
sensible of the divinity of thy character. May the holy
precepts which thou didst teach convince me that thou
art the Son of God. May the life of sorrow thou didst lead
on earth convince me of thy sincerity. May the affection
thou didst manifest to man attach me to thy cross, and
may the blood thou didst shed on Calvary wash me from
all my sins. " Lord 1 believe, help thou my unbelief"
Come, Lord Jesus : oh, come quickly, and bring life and im-
mortality to light in my heart. I ask these mercies, oh,
God ! for Jesus Christ's sake. — Amen.
256 MEMOIR OF THE
The increasing age and infirnnities of the Bishop, while
they imposed upon him the necessity of gradually reHn-
quishing the oversight of distant portions of his diocese, to
which no access could be had except by the ordinary
modes of travelling in Virginia — in carriages or on horse-
back — the fatigues of which he could not endure ; and while
they consequently restricted his ability to engage exten-
sively in public duties, were, nevertheless, attended with a
solace which was peculiarly grateful to his mind. His was
a nature thoroughly adapted to the enjoyment of domestic
happiness; and the infirmities which cut him oft' from his
accustomed intercourse with the scattered members of his
ecclesiastical household secured to him the loved privilege
of more prolonged and endeared intercourse with the mem-
bers of the family circle which gathered around his fire-
side at home.
We have before noticed the strength and tenderness of
his affection for his children — an affection which began at
their birth, increased with their growth through the periods
of infancy and childhood, and not only prompted to the most
diligent efforts for the advancement of their temporal wel-
fare and spiritual improvement in the days of their youth,
but followed them, with all the yearnings of parental solici-
tude, through all the future stages of their being. Never
was there a brighter example of a father's watchful care
and persevering endeavours for the temporal and spiri-
tual good of his children. Never, perhaps, was there
an instance in which such care and endeavours were
followed with greater success. Of the children who sur-
vive him, two are faithful and acceptable ministers of the
Gospel in the Church; and all the rest, it is believed, are
communicants at her altars. It would be gratifying to
know precisely the course of advice, instruction, and dis-
LIFE OP BISHOP MOORE. 257
cipline, by which, through God's blessing, such a happy
result had been secured. And although there is much in
the freedom and familiarity of domestic correspondence
which should not needlessly be exposed to the public gaze,
yet we hope that good may be done to Christian families
by the publication of the following letters, addressed to his
children at diiferent times, and on various occasions.
There may be found in them some development of those
plans and principles of parental guidance which led a
numerous family to choose the paths of wisdom and piety.
TO HIS ELDEST SON, SOON AFTER LEAVING HOME TO ENGAGE IN
MERCANTILE PURSUITS, IN NEW YORK, THEN IN HIS THIR-
TEENTH YEAR.
Staten Island, January 12th, 1801.
My Dear Son, — I duly received your favour of the 8th,
and was pleased with the connexion of your statements,
and the neatness of your letter ; it convinced me that you
had been attentive to the composition, and were desirous
to gratify the wishes of a father who sincerely loves you.
Go on, my child, in the diligent pursuit of your duties; be
faithful to the interests of Mr. B— , and endeavour to fit
yourself for the discharge of all your engagements. It is
impossible for me to express to you how much you have it
in your power to contribute to my happiness.
Remember the affectionate care with which I have
always watched over you. You must therefore be sensible
that you share largely in my regard ; and could you read
my heart, you would see your name in characters which
can never be eflEiiced. You must be convinced that my
happiness depends very much upon your conduct; all, then,
that I desire of you in return for my tenderness, is this:
258 MEMOIR OF THE
Fear God; be grateful to your Redeemer; and let your
walk through life be marked with the most invincible in-
tegrity. Shun sin as you would pestilence ; and let nothing
escape your lips that, upon reflection, can give you pain.
Such behaviour will render you respected by all who know
you. Your conscience will always speak the language of
approbation. God will love you; and your father will be
blessed ! If you have not a Bible at command, request
Mr. B— — to procure a decent one for you. Read every
day a portion in the Old and New Testament, and endea-
vour to imprint its contents and precepts upon your mind.
Look up to God, my beloved child ; his ears are open to all ;
and the offering of a youthful heart is peculiarly agreeable
and acceptable in his sight.
I send you , of which I beg your acceptance. Let
me know your wants, and believe me
Your affectionate father,
R. C. Moore.
LETTER TO A GRANDDAUGHTER.
October 13th, 1837.
My dear H — , In reflecting on the occurrences which took
place during my late visit at the north, few, if any, have
given me more solid satisfaction than the change which I
confidently hope has been produced in your mind on the
subject of the great concern of your precious andin^mortal
soul. As it is from the Father of Lights that every good
and perfect gift proceedeth; and hearing, as I have heard
and listened to, the sincere and ardent supplications of your
dear father, in behalf of his beloved children ; and con-
scious, also, of the assurance which Heaven has given, of
LIFE OF BISHOP MOORE. 259
an answer to sincere supplication, I take it for granted
that the change you have experienced in your views, has
arisen from the influences of that Holy Spirit which has
been so long and so fervently supplicated for his blessing on
your head.
Let, then, your grandfather cherish the hope that you
will carry into effect the good resolutions into which you
have entered, and make full proof of the sincerity of your
religious profession. Reflect, my dear child, how influen-
tial will be the example you may present to the view of
the numerous family with which you are daily surrounded ;
what infinite advantage you, and my dear C , may
prove to the little unfledged flock, in the midst of which you
are placed, and the incalculable comfort you will produce
in the bosom of your parents. Heaven, my child, has blessed
you with a mind capable of great results. Oh ! let me
entreat you to bring that mind to bear on the views and
habits of your brothers and sisters, friends and acquaint-
ances ; and may that Being who has loved you, and given
himself for you, continue to shower on you the richest
blessings of his grace, and render you an ornament to the
Church, and a source of comfort to all your connexions.
Christianity does not forbid you to combine, with the dis-
charge of your duty to God, a cheerfulness of disposition ;
indeed, in my opinion, our gratitude to the Almighty is
better evinced by a cheerful, than a gloomy habit : and I
am sure, possesses attractions better calculated to convince
the thoughtless, that " the ways of religion are pleasantness,
and her paths are paths of peace," than a course of
conduct enveloped in gloom, and expressive of continual
mortification.
Improper levity, you will remember, my dear H ,
is different from that cheerfulness of which I speak ; but
260 MEMOIR OF THE
as you possess a discriminating nnind, it would be needless
in me to dwell upon the subject, especially as it would ap-
pear to betray a suspicion of your consistency of conduct.
With so good a teacher at your side as your beloved father,
it cannot be necessary for me to point out those duties need-
ful for your daily observance ; but loving you as I do, and
anxious as I am for your present and future happiness, I
could not permit the event which has drawn from me this
letter, to pass without assuring you of the happiness it has
afforded me.
Give my love to your parents, and all the family ; and
believe me, my dear child.
Your affectionate friend and grandfather,
Richard Channing Moore.
EXTRACT FROM A LETTER WRITTEN TO HIS ELDEST SON.
February 9th, 1820.
" I am rejoiced to discover, from your late communica-
tion, that your flock are so attentive to eternal conside-
rations. I shall never forget the joyful seasons I have
experienced with the people of your charge; when from
one extreme of the parish to another, the universal cry
could be heard, " Lord, what wilt thou have us to do ?"
May the flame which has arisen continue to extend its
sacred influences, until every heart shall feel its animating
effects. As far as the prayers of a fond father, for a be-
loved son, can prove avaihng, those prayers are offered up
in your behalf. I frequently have you in my mind's eye,
and am fervently engaged in supplication to God in your
favour, entreating him to strengthen you in the discharge
LIFE OF BISHOP MOORE. 261
of your duty, and to render your ardent efforts beneficial
to your hearers.
I shall never forget the time in which religious excite-
ment so much prevailed on the Island, that I was called
upon to preach three times the same evening, to the same
congregation. I think you were with me, and take it for
granted that you have not forgotten the circumstance. Go
on, my beloved Son, and be not weary in well-doing. A
clergyman will never lament, in a dying hour, that he has
been faithful, or that his duties have been laborious ; but
on the contrary, after he has done all that he possibly
could have done, he will feel himself to have been an un-
profitable servant. If such will be the experience of the
most faithful minister, what will be the sensations of a sloth-
ful and negligent Shepherd ?
Your affectionate father,
Richard Channing Moore.
LETTER TO A MEMBER OF HIS FAMILY.
Norfolk, June 19th, 1836.
My dear S., — I received your affectionate favour this
morning, and hasten to reply to its contents. I perceived,
of course, when I left home, that my children were not all
up to receive my parting benediction ; but being unwilling
lo draw any conclusion of an unkind description, I at-
tributed it to its proper cause, the early hour at which I
entered on my journey.
It is in the bosom of my family that I reap the most solid
comfort; and it is delightful to my heart to be enabled to
say that my children seem disposed to contribute to my
comfort by their filial attentions; and to divest my solitude
X
262 MEMOIR OF THE
of that gloom which otherwise would oppress and bear me
to the earth. Were I to complain of their inattention, I
should do them injustice : they are dutiful and affectionate,
and, when I shall be taken from them, they will reap
comfort, flowing from a conscious knowledge of the filial
kindness which distinguishes their conduct towards me.
Few families have reason to be more thankful to God for
the harmony which marks their domestic circle. I have
always loved my children with an affection of no common
order ; and it has been my study to render them happy by
gratifying all their reasonable requests; and also by making
such provision for them, as will, with prudence, render them
comfortable after my death.
This letter my children will consider as addressed to
them all ; and, if the declaration of my love will aflford
them that pleasure which I derive from the assurance of
their regard for me, they may rest satisfied that they pos-
sess a place in my affection which nothing but death can
ever etFace.
When I return from the Eastern Shore, I shall expect
another letter from some of you ; direct to J. S., Esq., Nor-
folk, and send it by the steamboat which leaves Richmond
every Wednesday and Sunday morning.
Give my sincere love to Chrissy, Eliza, and all my chil-
dren, and believe me, in great truth.
Your friend and father,
Richard Chaxnimg Moore.
P. S. Mrs. S. has desired me to say, that she was disap-
pointed in not seeing some of you. She sends her love to
you all. I hope to return to Norfolk the middle of next
week — but as the people wish me to hold a confirmation
next Sunday week, you must not expect me.
LIFE OF BISHOP MOORE. 263
LETTER TO A SOX UPOX GOING TO COLLEGE.
July 23d, 1825.
My dear Son, — I cannot think of your departure from
my parental roof without offering you that advice which
your inexperience of the world renders indispensably neces-
sary. You have arrived at a period of life replete with
dangers peculiar to itself — and, as you will be separated
from my observation, and placed beyond my immediate
care, it will be necessary for you to peruse this letter fre-
quently, that you may be enabled to act with propriety
upon all occasions ; and to shun those evils w^th which you
may be assailed. Begin and end every day with prayer
to the Almighty, to " direct you in all your doings with his
most gracious favour, and further you with his continual
help." To the observance of this duty you have always
been accustomed; being instructed while in the nursery to
supplicate the Almighty, and having continued the practice
at my own family altar. To your prayers to heaven for
direction, you must add your sincere thanks to the Almighty,
for the mercies you have enjoyed, and for those blessings
you daily obtain from his bounty. In the enumeration of
those blessings you will call to view the pious instruction
you have always received — the opportunities afforded you
in the completion of your education — the health you have
enjoyed, and the attention of your affectionate parents.
Remember that the object I have in view in placing you
at college is to fit you for the due and honorable discharge
of the duties of life. To carry into effect my design, you
must apply yourself with diligence to your studies — never
feeling satisfied with yourself until a perfect knowledge of
your stated lessons is attained. Pay the most uniform re-
264 3IEM0IE OF THE
spect to your teachers — and let them see, by your conduct,
that you have been politely bred, and that you consider
them not only as your instructors, but as your friends.
Should you ever be tempted to do wrong by any of your
young companions, resist the temptation immediately and
decidedly, and let them discover, by your private as well
as public conduct, the high sense you entertain of moral
principle. Should any of them possess a vicious turn of
mind, avoid their company — for, should you be found asso-
ciating with lads of bad principles, your reputation would
suffer, and you would certainly be considered as possessed
of the same habits and the same propensities with them-
selves. Let your particular associates be young men of
correct habits and principles, and in their society you will
be safe — thinking no evil, no evil will be practised — de-
lighting to do good, the purity of your character will be
established, and you will be respected by all who know
you, and the Almighty will surround you with his continual
presence. In all cases, whether of business or pleasure, in
which you require counsel, consult the President or one of
the professors, and, when the advice you ask is given, be
sure to follow it. Such a course will inspire them with
confidence in you, and will render your collegiate life a life
of comfort and happiness. There is no reasonable com-
fort in my power to confer that I will deny you. Re-
member, however, that comfort and extravagance are
two different things. Whatever the President considers
necessary and proper, and my circumstances will admit of,
I will most cheerfully comply wMh. Be steady in your at-
tendance on the public worship of Almighty God, and
unite with devotion in the service of the Church, always
bearing in mind that you are in the presence of the Judge
of heaven and earth. My happiness is so dependant on the
LIFE OF BISHOP 3IOORE. 265
course you may pursue, that by your misconduct my heart
would be broken, and my gray hairs brought with sorrow-
to the grave; while, on the other hand, by pursuing a vir-
tuous course of life, you will add to my enjoyment, and ren-
der my old age happy and delightful. While I live, I shall
never cease to pray for you ; and, should I never see you
again in this world, I trust, my dear child, we shall meet in
heaven. May God, in tender mercy preserve you, conduct
you in safety through life, and then receive you into glory.
Your affectionate friend
and Father,
Richard Channing Moore.
TO A SON GOING TO SEA.
Richmond, May 20th, 1816.
My dear Son, — Separated as you will be for a considera-
ble time, from the protection and guardianship of your
parents ; I have thought it my duty to afford you such
advice, as you will find, upon a compliance with its letter
and spirit, to be productive of present quiet to your mind ;
and of advantage to you in your intercourse with your
fellow creatures : and as it may be the last opportunity
which Heaven may present to my view, I entreat you to
consider it as my dying admonition, and to attend to it with
filial reverence.
Bear, I beseech you, in continual recollection that there
is a God, and that he is the rewarder of those who diligent-
ly serve him. Remember that you are always present to
his view, and that no sin can escape his observation.
Reverence therefore his holy name, and never suffer your
lips to be polluted with blasphemy or profaneness. By re-
x2
266 MEMOIR OF THE
straining from the crime, the awful crime of swearing, your
employers will respect you; and those with whom you
associate will value and esteem you. Avoid evil compan-
ions, especially such as would wish to lead you in the
paths of transgression. Suffer not your feet to be led
into the ways of uncleanness, which conduct its votaries
to ruin and destruction. Should you be tempted to depart
from the precepts of virtue, shun as you would a pestilence
the temptation; for sorrow of heart and distress of soul will
follow the commission of sin. Remember, my son, that few
of your companions have had the benefit of an education
so pious as that with which you have been blessed : God
will therefore expect more at your hands, as your oppor-
tunities in life have been great.
Never permit your companions to overcome your habits
of sobriety: for if they should at any time succeed in making
you intemperate, they will then obtain the mastery over
your virtuous resolutions, and you will fall a prey to their
seductions.
Be obedient to those in authority over you ; perform the
duties assigned you with cheerfulness and promptitude; and
be faithful to your employers.
Be kind and gentle to those who are beneath you, and
treat them always with tenderness and regard — such con-
duct will secure their obedience and their love.
Preserve a strict regard to truth ; always perform your
promises : and should you through mistake or ignorance do
wrong, honestly confess your error, and endeavour to do
right in future.
Read a portion of God's holy Word every day, and should
the thoughtless laugh at you, tell them that you have been
taught to reverence the Scriptures, and to make them your
rule of life.
LIFE OF BISHOP MOORE. 267
Should any of your young companions possess a quarrel-
some temper, avoid associating with them, unless when duty
compels you : treat them with due respect: avoid joking
with them ; and never speak of their faults to others.
Should any of them be vicious, you must be careful how
you reprove them ; for should they be unwilling to listen to
your advice, they would consider it an insult, and treat you
with unkindness, if not with something worse.
In order to carry into effect the precepts which I have
offered for your consideration, you will stand in need of
divine assistance. Ask it then of God, my cliild, in earnest
and secret prayer. Make no public parade of religion, but
worship the God of your fathers in private, and evince in
a holy life the purity of your heart.
Whenever you may be in port, ask liberty of your
superiors to attend upon the worship of God ; and what-
ever denominations of Christians you may meet with,
behave with seriousness and with decency.
That God may guard and protect you, shall be the
prayer of your father during your absence. Farewell, my
son, and should we never meet again in this world, may we
meet in a world of bliss and glory.
I remain with great affection.
Your friend and father,
Richard Channing Moore.
TO A DAUGHTER.
Richmond, Va., Aug. nth, 1824.
I have set apart this morning, to address letters to several
of my connexions, upon the subject of your dear mother^s
decease.
268 MEMOIR OF THE
Although there is much to comfort me in the discharge
of this duty, still it is a painful office, as it necessarily
awakens in my recollection the most affecting associations.
In her last conversation with me, she expressed the most
ardent wish that I would press upon the consciences of
her dear children the solemn considerations of religion.
It was her last, her dying request, that they would close in
with the offers of mercy, take up the cross, and follow
Christ. Let me beseech of you, who are her first born
child, to consider the appeal of your dying mother, as the
appeal of God himself, speaking to you through her. Con-
sider of what moment it must have appeared to her, stand-
ing as she did upon the threshold of eternity, when she could
overlook for an instant her own concerns, to think of the
concerns of her children. Your life, my daughter, as far as
I have seen it, has been morally correct, oh, add to that
morality the love of God. That love I mean which will
produce in you an obedience to all the precepts of religion,
and enable you to set your affections on things above. You
have hitherto never been present at the Lord's table : re-
member that your Saviour in his last hours required of his
followers that duty. Send for your cousin T let him
read this letter, and he will find that it is my desire you
should converse with him on the occasion, and receive the
Sacrament of the Lord's Supper at his hands, the first op-
portunity. The last answer in that Catechism in which
you have been instructed contains the requisitions. If you
are sorry for past sins, believe in the Lord Jesus, intend to
live devoted to him in future, and are in charity with all
men, you may approach without a fear, and rely upon the
God you serve for the communications of his grace. Think
deeply, my child, and act firmly.
Your mother's death-bed furnished all around it with a
IIFE OF BISHOP MOORE. 269
lesson of great instruction ; her mind was perfectly collected,
and perfectly calm; she had no doubt of her future happi-
ness ; she declared that death itself had no terrors; and
a few moments before she expired, she raised her eyes to
heaven, and exclaimed, " Come, Lord Jesus, come quickly."
May the Almighty grant that all my children may live
righteous lives; and that their last end may be as tranquil
as her's. I can ask for no greater blessing whatever.
Give my love to Mr. , and entreat him to consider my
advice to you equally applicable to himself Give my love
also to T , and family, and to Mrs. E , and daughter,
and to Mrs. S , and her husband ; and believe me, my
child, with love greater than 1 can express,
Your friend and father,
Richard Channing Moore.
TO THE SAME.
Richmond, Va., Aug. 23(1, 1824.
The sensations which pervaded your mind, on the last
sacrament attended by your dear mother, were such, my
child, as I should have expected you would have under-
gone. Your absence from the altar attracted her atten-
tion, as well as mine, and gave rise to some parental
observations between us — observations growing out of that
love we have always cherished for you. It has been a
maxim invariably observed by me, in my intercourse with
my children, never to force that duty upon them, but to
leave them at their own discretion. This cautious mode
of procedure has arisen from the apprehension that my
advice might be viewed, in some measure, as imperative,
and they might be influenced to do that for me which they
270 MEMOIE OF THE
did not consider they owed to God. The death of your
mamma has, however, induced me to overlook my former
purpose; especially as it was her dying wish that I would
press the subject of religion on the minds of her children.
It would have been singularly gratifying to me to have
received you at the altar myself; but as the distance is so
great, and life is so very uncertain, I would rather you
should not postpone it unnecessarily. As your cousin
T resides in Philadelphia, I should prefer your union
with him : next to your brother D , he is my nearest
and dearest clerical connexion.
Sacramental communion is the discharge of a rational
duty, and is to be viewed through that medium. We have
been redeemed from ruin, by the death and passion of the
Redeemer; and it is his command that we always bear our
obligations in mind, by confessing him in the world, and by
an obedience to his precepts. The qualifications of a com-
municant are drawn up in the last question of our Cate-
chism, hoih fully and truly. How am T to know that I
repent truly of my former sins and negligences 1 The safest
criterion by which to judge in this matter, is our life. If
we are sorry for past sins and negligences, that sorrow will
deter us from a continuance in them, and lead us to that
course of practice enjoined upon all Christians. Conscious
of our weakness, we will pray for the influences of God's
Holy Spirit to excite in us a detestation of sin, and the love
and practice of holiness. How are we to know that we
have a lively faith in God's mercy, through Christ, with a
thankful remembrance of his death ? The way to ascertain
this truth, is by asking our hearts such questions as these.
Do I believe that I have been redeemed from misery by
the Lord Jesus Christ? And did God, in pity to man, find
out that way for the escape of his intelligent creatures?
LIFE OF BISHOP MOORE. 271
If such is my belief, I will, upon all occasions, show my
gratitude to God, by loving him with all my powers, and
evince to heaven, the world, and myself, that I have a
thankful remembrance of the death of Christ, by the com-
memoration of his sufferings, as exhibited in the Last Sup-
per, and by openly declaring myself a Christian. What
are the benefits whereof we are partakers thereby ? The
strengthening and the refreshing of our souls by the body
and blood of Christ, as our bodies are by bread and wine.
In a way that we cannot perfectly explain, God is pleased
to make the ordinances of religion the channels Q)i\\\% love
to man. We perform our duty, in obeying that precept
which leads us to the altar. God strengthens us by his
inward grace imparted to us ; thereby enabling us to love
him more, and serve him better. Read the twenty-fourth
chapter of St. Luke, and you will perceive, that although
the Saviour had conversed at large with Cleophas, and his
associates, still they did not know him until he break
bread, and gave to them. Christ Jesus is the same now
that he was then; of course, as ready to communicate a
display of his power to all who love him as he has ever been.
In this display of power, my beloved child, you are not to
expect any thing miraculous. It will show itself, by in-
creasing your desire to love God, and warming your heart
with devotional feelings. I would recommend it to you
to cultivate an intercourse with a few sensible Christians,
to separate yourself from all those who think or speak
lightly of religion, and to engage in no pursuit calculated
to chill your religious ardour, or to render you forgetful
of what you now feel to be your duty. Write at large to
me, and state any difficulties you may think you perceive
in the duty before us; and I will, with great pleasure,
afford you every information in my power. Let us strive,
272 MEMOIR OF THE
my dear child, to prepare for that hour which is near at
hand; then we shall meet your mother in that world in
which no separations will ever take place, but an eternity
of joy be our happy portion. Tell Mr. H , that he
must consider my letters to you as addressed equally to
him. The truths which concern you, are as obligatory
upon him as upon yourself. That God may direct you,
bless you, and preserve you to the end, is the prayer of,
my dear G ,
Your friend and father,
Richard Channing Moore.
Love to all.
Richmond, Va., Nov. 23J, 1824.
My Beloved Child, — I have determined, time after time,
since the receipt of your last favour, to sit down and reply
to it; but the repeated calls of duty have hitherto pre-
vented me. I have, however, this moment returned from
my morning walk, and will now comply with my own wishes,
and your expectations.
J should be happy, were we so situated, that you could
make use of my library ; but at the distance at which we
are placed, such a measure is impracticable. The books
from which you would find the most advantage, at present,
are neither many nor expensive.
There is a little volume called the Rise and Progress of
Religion in the Soul, by Doddridge, to which I would direct
your attention. It is both rational and devout; written in
a style both pleasing and instructive; and calculated to
warm the heart of the young Christian. Another book,
worthy your attention, is the Village Sermons. They are
short, scriptural, and devout. Your dear mother was
fond of them, and frequently used them. A Week's Pre-
LIFE or BISHOP MOORE. 273
paration for the Lord's Supper, is also a valuable work.
It is not of recent origin, but was drawn up many years
since, by a member of the Church of England. Obtain the
above volumes, if they can be had, and consult T
with respect to any others with which he may be conver-
sant. While I thus direct the attention of my child to
human authors for instruction, I should be wanting in duty,
were 1 to omit mentioning the Sacred Writings as the
source of the greatest advantage. In the Psalms of David,
there is something adapted to every situation in which we
may be placed, and to every state of mind in which we
may be involved.
The 51st is descriptive of the experience of a convinced
sinner. The 23d is expressive of the pastoral care which
the Saviour takes of all who love him. The 103d shows
us the mutability of all earthly things, and the merciful
disposition of Heaven towards those who seek his forgive-
ness. The Sermon on the Mount, which begins at the 5th
of St. Matthew's Gospel, was delivered by a preacher
who could not err; points out to us our duty, and shows us
the way in which to please and glorify God. St. Luke's
Gospel is full of parables, illustrative of the mercy of God
to the human family, and points out to the penitent inquirer
the nature of the Almighty, and the way of access to his
presence. The parable of the Lost Sheep expresses the
manner in which the Saviour seeks those who wander from
the fold ; and the parable of the Prodigal convinces us
that past sins cannot shut us out of heaven, provided we
will fly to the bosom of our offended parent and ask for-
giveness.
In the Bible we cannot look without improvement, as
all Scripture is given by inspiration. It contains the his-
tory of our fall, as recorded in Genesis, and the way in
V
274 MEMOIR OF THE
which we have been redeemed by the blood of Christ, is
contained in the New Testament. Make it, my dear
daughter, your chief counsellor. It was the book your
mother loved ; and all other books were used by her only
as subsidiary to it. That heaven may preserve alive in
your mind, the desires you now feel, is my ardent prayer;
and that the mind that was in Christ Jesus may be in you,
and your dear husband ; indeed, in all the family with
whom you reside, is the prayer, the constant prayer of one
who tenderly loves you,
Your friend and father,
Richard Channing Moorf,.
P. S. Love to Mr. H , and all the family, to T
also, and his family, and to good Mrs. S , and her
husband.
Richmond, Va., Sept. 29th, 1825.
My Dear G , — Last evening, while sitting surrounded
by a large circle of friends, your welcome letter was handed
to me by Mr. H , in which I was informed of the
health of yourself and dear sisters. It would have given
me great pleasure to have extended my trip to New York,
and to have seen my youngest son comfortably fixed in
Hartford ; but as I have always made my own gratitica-
tion bend to the imperious dictates of duty, I was obliged
to sacrifice inclination at the shrine of my pastoral office.
I shall not feel settled, until I have my beloved children
around me. I can scarcely tell you how distressing it is
to my mind, to be separated from them. The fear of their
LIFE OF BISHOP MOORE. 275
indisposition, and the conviction that it would not have
been in my power (o hover over them, or even to have
reached them under 8uch an event, very often presented
itself to my mind, during my journey, and rendered me
unhappy. I have always been fond of my children, par-
ticipating largely of their distresses, and entering deeply
into all their concerns.
The connexion in which they formerly stood to me seems
in some measure changed. I always knew that my life
was of great consequence to them ; but at present, that
consideration is, in a degree, swallowed up by the reflec-
tion that their continuance is indispensably necessary to
my comfort. At my time of life, and in my bereaved
state, how wretched should I be, were I not placed in the
midst of a family, and that family my own dear children.
Strangers would not care for an old man, nor shed a
tear over him in his distress; but children, thank God
are not strangers, especially if those children are Chris-
tians.
I will thank you to give my love to those who are
with you in New York, and to request them to be in
readiness to return with Captain K . I should have
no objections to their visiting Philadelphia, and returning
home by land, did not the additional expense deter me;
but as my pocket, under all circumstances, will not justify
the measure, they must yield up their wishes, and save
me the money such an expenditure would cost. What
with C at college, and Mr. C 's salary, I must
study economy, or my family will be pinched after my
decease.
Remember me affectionately to my brother and his
family, to your dear grandmother, and all her family
276 MEMOIR OF THE
and connexions; say to my children all a fond father
could say were he present, and believe me, my dear
G ,
Your friend and father,
Richard Channixg Moore.
Love to Mr. H .
Richmond, Va., Sept. 1, 1826.
My dear G. — Should I be spared a few weeks longer, I
indulge a hope, that I shall visit the North ; and once more
be blessed with an interview with my beloved absent chil-
dren. When you see Mrs. S , present my best re-
spects to her and her husband ; express to them my thank-
fulness for their kind invitation ; and let them know that
I shall embrace the ofTer of an asylum under their roof at
least part of the time.
It would give me the greatest pleasure to take my dear
C with me to the North ; not only, as it would afford
her an excursion agreeable to her wishes, but also as some
return for her unceasing attentions to me, since it has
pleased God to leave me alone. After passing forty years
n a married state, it is difficult to reconcile the mind to
such a bereavement as I have experienced. It is not all
the unintermitted attentions of children that can supply
the vacancy occasioned by the loss of an affectionate com-
panion. There are a thousand things continually pressing
on the mind, which cannot be disclosed to them : and which
nothing but the sympathies of a wife can alleviate or re-
move.
To reveal to them all that passes in the mind, is impossi-
ble : it would burthen them with cares and disquietude
LIFE OF BISHOP MOORE. 277
which a father would shrink from subjecting them to:
whereas the disclosure of them to an individual plighted
by the most solemn vows to bear part of the weight, would
not only lessen the difficulty but very often remove it alto-
gether.
It is but justice in me to observe, that, as far as children
can supply my loss, that loss has been supplied. There
are no attentions they have withheld from me. I have
never been left one hour alone : and, when the younger
part of my family have been visiting their friends, C
has hovered around me ; and exhibited in her conduct, the
most perfect pattern of filial duty and respect. Scarcely
a day passes in which E does not see me, and scarcely
a week goes over our heads, in which she, her husband,
and her dear children do not pass the evening at my house
three or four times. When God shall see fit to take me
away, my children will have nothing with which to re-
proach themselves — they have been dutiful and kind, and
heaven will reward them for it.
I do wish, my beloved G , that you lived in our neigh-
bourhood, to make one of our family party ; and did I
possess the power and wealth to have it so, it would have
been so long before this time ; but, as my resources are not
sufficiently ample to accomplish such an object, I must be
contented.
Give my sincere love to Mr. H.,and assure him of a deep
interest in my regard, and believe me, my beloved child,
Your sincerely affectionate
Friend and father,
Richard Channing Moore.
278 MEMOIR OF THE
EXTRACT.
Richmond, Jan. 2, 1832,
My dear Son, — I have intended, day after day, to an-
swer your last letter, but the mortality which has visited
,this city during the present month has so engrossed my at-
tention, that I have had very little time to think of any
thing but pastoral duty. This day I have a little leisure,
and therefore have taken up my pen to address you a
few lines.
In the midst of all your studies I sincerely hope that
you cultivate a heartfelt communion with your God and
Saviour ; supplicating him that the mind which was in
Christ Jesus may be in you. Pastoral duty, without the
spirit of religion to animate you in the discharge of it,
would prove a burden to your mind ; and render all your
ministerial labours fruitless and unavailing. A good and
sound education may constitute you a man of letters, fur-
nishing the head with every useful information ; but, rely
upon it, that nothing less than divine grace can render a
man qualified to bring his resources into spiritual action,
and thus enable him to find a passage to the human heart.
I could wish you to cultivate the talent of extempore
speaking ; studying the subject well, possessing yourself of
all its leading truths ; but reserving to yourself the oppor-
tunity, when necessary, of delivering your sentiments with-
out the labour of entire composition. You might form,
among the students, a society, in which to improve your-
selves in thus delivering your sentiments. It is so import-
ant a part of a clerical education, that every student
hould endeavour to possess himself of it. Instances so often
LIFE OF BISHOP MOOEE. 279
occur which call for extemporaneous effort that I sincerely
hope you will strive to excel in it.
Always remember me to the professors and their fami-
lies, and believe me,
My dear C ,
Your sincere friend and father,
Richard Channing Moore.
extract. to the same.
Richmond, Va., Feb. 23, 1832-
The fault in young men consists in being too violent r
straining the voice, and, very often, by that means, doing
an injury to the matter contained in their discourses. When
a man has strong lungs he may weather the storm he thus
raises ; but, should his chest be weak, something must give
way, and that something is often found in the rupture of a
blood vessel, and a retirement from the ministry, if not in
premature death.
It is a mistake to suppose that a m.an is better heard
when speaking very loud ; a deliberate delivery, even when
the voice is weak, will fill a large space to better purpose
than great vociferation, with that rapidity which is always
its accompaniment : for, you will observe, that in propor-
tion to the elevation of voice, will be the rapidity of a
man's speaking.
In common conversation, when men are cool, they, in
general, speak slow ; but the moment they become warm,
their enunciation becomes very indistinct, in consequence
of the agitation and hurry which mark their temper and
spirit. With love to the professors, believe me.
Your sincere friend and father,
Richard Channing Moore.
280 ME5I0IE OF THE
EXTRACT.
Richmond, Va., Sept. 18, 1833.
My dear Son, — I should consider myself subject to the
charge of ingratitude, were 1 to withhold from Mr. B
and his family my sincere thanks for their marked kind-
ness to me while a resident under their roof.
Tell them that their hospitality is duly appreciated by
me ; and that it would afford me great pleasure to make
them a similar return of friendship. It may be so ordered
that at some time or other, some of his household may visit
Richmond. Should such ever be the case, my house and
bosom would be open to their reception. Tell Mrs. B.
that I enjoyed my seat at her right hand at table very
much ; and that upon all future occasions I should lay claim
to the same privilege.
Mention to E , the pleasure I enjoyed in her socie-
ty, and how happy I should be, were you situated nearer to
me — I hope the dear children are both well, and that
R 's dog can still 'bark as well as he did, when I was
with him. How is my little E , I often think I see
her running around the centre table tumbling about like a
dumpling, and again picking herself up with perfect good
humour. She is certainly an engaging little puss, and has
made a deep impression of attachment on my mind. Tell
the woman who opened the street door so often for me,
that I remember her, and hope that she may be so good,
that the door of heaven may be opened when she shall
knock for admission. Accept for yourself, my son, the
LIFE OF BISHOP 3I00EE. 281
strongest assurances of my regard, and nny thanks for the
many filial attentions I received at your hands, and
Believe me
Your sincere friend and father,
Richard Channing Moore.
Richmond, Va., Dec. 11th, 1840.
My dear Son, — In letters received yesterday from your
brothers D and C . I have been informed of the
death of your youngest son. The bereavement, although it
must deeply afflict you and E , is mixed with great
consolation. The dear child has committed no wilful sin
against his Maker ; consequently has fallen asleep in the
bosom of that Saviour who died to save him ; and his infant
spirit is now placed out of the reach of all danger, and put
in possession of happiness unspeakable and full of glory. I
am well aware of the sufferings parents undergo, in the
loss of their children ; but 1 also know, that the certainty
of the happiness those children are invested with, imme
diately on their departure from the present life, most sensi-
bly abates the anguish of the parental heart; and will ena-
ble them to say with perfect truth, ' not as we will, but as
thou, our Father wilt." 1 remember the pangs which rent
my bosom, at the departure of my son C , who died
when four years of age ; but I also remember, that while
bending over his remains I was so satisfied of his happy
state, that I would not have turned a straw to bring him
back. This world is a world of trouble ; but that trouble
with which we are visited, is necessary to our future hap-
piness ; for if we met with nothing here but uninterrupted
felicity, we should never think of our future state. This
we must know would be the case, for we do find from ex-
282 MEMOIR OF THE
perience, that notwithstanding all the distresses of human
life, we still cling to the world ; and that there is nothing
but the afflicting hand of heaven, that can separate our
hold ; and enable us, poor sinners as we are, to lay up our
treasure in heaven.
God, my son, is a God of mercy ; and he has removed
your child from your embrace in mercy — he has taken him
to himself, and now calls upon you to set your affections on
things above, and prepare to meet that child in heaven.
Let your earnest inquiry, then, be made of the Almighty
Lord, what wilt thou have me to do. And should you find
that the affliction you now feel is productive of a desire
to seek and serve the living God — you will be enabled to
say in truth, it is good for me that I have been afflicted.
Read the above parental remarks to E , close in, with-
out a moment's delay, with the offers of the Gospel ; and
press forward toward the mark, for the prixe of your high
calling of God in Christ Jesus. Listen, I entreat you, to the
good counsel of your dear brothers, and be determined to
set your affections on things above, and not on things on the
earth."
That God, in mercy, may sanctify your troubles to your
present and everlasting happiness, is the prayer of
Your sincere friend and father,
Richard Chanmng Moore.
The following extract affords a touching illustration of his
kindness as a master.
EXTRACT FROM A LETTER TO BISHOP RAVENSCROFT.
****** " The good and excellent girl presented
to my daughter by Mrs. R , paid the debt of nature
LIFE OF BISHOP MOOEE. 283
on the 4th inst. She had a severe attack of bilious fever last
fall, and had not been weW since. In order to contribute
to her comfort, she slept in the same chamber with my
daughter all winter; and had she been one of my own
children, she could not have been more faithfully attended.
She vvas sensible of her situation, and fully, I hope, prepared
for death. Her mind, she assured me, was at perfect rest:
and she requested me to inform her mother that she was
going home, and hoped that she would endeavour to follow
her. We were all so attached to her, that we followed
her remains to the grave, at which place I read the service
of the Church, and delivered an address to the coloured
people. I never saw more sensation than was manifested
on that occasion."*
The foregoing letters afford a beautiful example of
parental faithfulness and love. They are the warm but
simple breathings of a heart beating with emotions of the
tenderest regard towards those who looked up to him, with
tilial reverence and affection, as the instrument of their
being : a heart sympathising in all their sorrows and joys,
and feeling to its inmost core, every incident by which their
welfare was affected : a heart eagerly desirous of their
temporal welfare and happiness, and conscious of an unful-
filled joy, while one of the beloved number remained a
stranger to the love of God, and the peace of the Gospel.
This Christian father was happy beyond the common lot
* I remember the occasion above alluded to, and recollect also another
proof of the kindness of my dear father. The colored burial ground in
Kichmond is not enclosed, and is therefore much exposed. For at least
one, and I think for several nights subsequent to the burial of this favorite
servant, my dear father walked out alone a distance of a mile from his
residence, and to the grave-yard, which was situated in a very lonely place
to see that the grave was not disturbed. The circumstance struck my
inind (though but a child) with great force. K. C. M. Jr.
284 MEMOIR OF THE
of mortals in his domestic relations. His warm affection
was reciprocated in no stinted measure by the children
whom God had given him. He was the pride and joy of
all : nor was there any of their favoured number who
would not cheerfully have undertaken any labour, or sub-
mitted to any sacrifice within their power that might have
been needful for the comfort and happiness of their venera-
ted parent. But there was one, his eldest surviving
daughter, Miss Christian Moore, who afforded as striking
an example of filial tenderness and affection as the world
ever saw. She was his companion at home, and often the
attendant upon his journeys abroad. She served him by
day, and watched over him by night. She anticipated his
every want in health, and nursed him with a mother's
tenderness in sickness. She seemed to live, indeed, but for
him alone. Her own existence appeared to be wrapped up
in his, as if he were the centre of her being. She supplied
to him, as far as it was possible for a child to do, the want
of the partner of his bosom. And her unreserved devotion
to him while he lived, could only be equalled by the depth
and pungency of her sorrow at his death.
The venerable Patriarch whose soul went out in earnest
longings for the spiritual health and salvation of his children
and his children's children, while he continued in this world,
did not forget the expression of his paramount desire, in
that solemn document by which he arranged his affairs for
his departure out of it. The following is an extract from
his last will and testament. '< It is my fervent desire that
all my children should live and die in communion with the
Protestant Episcopal Church, and nevzr, never leave it
upon any consideration. The Lord he with them all.''
How rich the mercies — how sure the promises of our
covenant God ! He hath said " Train up a child in the
LIFE OF BISHOP MOORE. 285
way he should go, and when he is old he will not depart
from it :" "I will be a God to thee, and to thy seed after
thee.''^ The fulfilment of these precious promises, in the
case of this departed inheritor of the faith of Abrahann,
enables us afresh to " set to our seal that God is true."
One of his surviving daughters writes as follows: "Our
dearly beloved parent left nine children, eight of whom
are in full communion with the Church. Since the
decease of our dear parent, three of my sister H 's
daughters have united themselves with the Church, and her
two sons are now inquiring the way, and I hope will
very soon kneel around that altar, where he for whom
we now mourn so delighted to serve."
For several of the latter years of his life, favoured with
zealous and faithful assistants, both in his parochial and
diocesan charge, the Bishop allowed himself the luxury of
spending a great portion of his time in the bosom of his
devoted family and parish, where he daily received those
attentions and caresses which proved so grateful and sooth-
ing to his affectionate mind under the growing infirmities
of age. From this time it is unnecessary to give a detailed
account of those acts of public duty which had now become
few in comparison with the great number which had
crowded into the record of previous years. Never, how-
ever, to his latest hour, did he put his " harness" off, or
hold himself in any other attitude than that of preparation
for his Master's work. Notwithstanding his advanced age,
he continued to exercise his Episcopal function in those
parts of the diocese which were accessible by steamboats
and rail-roads; and wherever he went, the highest interest
was excited by his apostolical services ; and he received as
hearty a welcome, from ministers and people, as he had
z
286 MEMOIR OF THE
ever done in the earlier days of his Episcopate. His in-
terest in the Theological Seminary seemed to become
more intense and paternal as he approached the end of his
career. He was generally present at the annual exami-
nation of the students, and mainly anxious that all of them
should be well instructed in the doctrines of the Gospel,
and the principles of the Church; and that none of them
should be admitted to Holy Orders, unless there was ground
to believe that they would prove faithful and successful
ministers of the Lord Jesus Christ. \s a sincere lover of
evangelical truth in its simplicity and purity, he dreaded
any speculations or discussions that were likely to shake
the confidence of ministers or people in the fixed standards
of our faith; and, as one " set for the defence of the Gos-
pel,*' he was ever ready, in obedience to his ordination
vows, " with all faithful diligence to banish and drive away
from the Church all erroneous and strange doctrines, con-
trary to God's word."
When the Church, on both sides of the Atlantic, began
to be agitated, a few years ago, by the publication of
"Tracts for the Times," edited by certain members of the
University of Oxford, Bishop Moore was among the first to
take the alarm, and to sound a solemn note of warning.
He uttered his formal and deep-toned protest against what
is novel and false in those notorious productions, in the
presence of his Convention; and the Committee on the State
of the Church echoed back a faithful and cordial response
to the sentiments of their venerable Diocesan. The pre-
sent writer, having announced to him his intention of pub-
lishing a course of lectures upon the Church Catechism,
containing a system of " Theology for the People,"' received
a reply, of which the following is an extract:
LIFE OF BISHOP MOOEE. 287
Richmond, Va., April 13th, 1839.
Rev. and Dear Sir, — I am really grieved to see so great
a disposition manifested by some of our brethren, both in
England and this country, to unsettle the religious opinions
of the members of the Church : to cut them loose from
those principles we have always held sacred, and to set
them adrift from that safe anchorage, secured to them by
our articles and formularies, without either compass to
steer by, or helm to direct them, in their passage to
eternity.
I rejoiced, upon the perusal of the remarks made, on the
subject of the Oxford Tracts, by the Bishop of Ohio; and
I again rejoice to find you disposed to oppose the current of
heterodoxy, and to plead in behalf of that atonement made
for poor sinners, and their justification by faith in the Lord
Jesus Christ. I can truly say, that you have my thanks
for your proposed efforts, and my prayers for the prosperity
of the work you expect to publish.
The truth is, that should those solemn doctrines meet
with any formidable opposition in this country, and the
integrity of the Church be invaded and endangered, I do
believe its unity will be destroyed — its prosperity be broken
up — and Ichabod be written on the walls of our hitherto
united Zion.
Believe me to be, Rev. and Dear Sir,
Your sincere friend and servant,
Richard Channing Moore.
The same anxiety to prevent the spread of the danger-
ous views in question, is exhibited in the following passage
of a letter to another clergyman :
288 MEMOIR OF THE
April 17th, 1839.
Rev. and Dear Sir, — I have written within a few days
ID and , of , inviting them to the Conven-
tion of Virginia, which is to meet in Norfolk the middle of
next month. If convenient to you, it would give great
pleasure to Bishop }.Jeade and myself to meet you also on
that occasion; and as the Oxford Tracts have attracted
the attention of many of the best friends of the Church
throughout our country, we could converse at large on the
subject of their content^, and come to an understanding
with respect to the probable consequences which may
arise from the contemplated publication, and adopt such
measures as the peace and prosperity of the Church might
call for at our hands.
The excitement of the Tract controversy is now rapidly
subsiding; and if we be not mistaken in our judgment of
its results, the incidental evils which have followed the
insidious productions of Dr. Pusey and his school, will be
more than counterbalanced by the good effects of the
many clear and elaborate vindications of the truth which
they have called forth. The Church at large will separate
between the wheat and the chalf; and while some young and
unfledged theologians will be carried away to Rome, we be-
lieve that the great body of our ministers and people will
have a more thorough understanding of the real principles
of the Church, be more firm in their attachment to the
fundan.ental doctrine of justification by faith, and be better
armed for their conflict with the emissaries of the Pope,
than they ever were before. It is a cause of thankfulness,
that few of our clergy, and none of our bishops, advocate
the views of the Tractarians without exception, while the
LIFE OF BISHOP 3I00RE. 289
mitred dignitaries of the Mother Church have spoken out
in terms of strong and decided reproof of those pecuHarities
which distinguish the " Oxford Theology" from that of the
Primitive Fathers, and of the Reformers of our Church.
We believe, therefore, notwithstanding the once threat-
ening aspect of the storm, timt, when it has passed away,
the fair citadel of our faith will remain unharmed ; with its
ornaments untarnished, and its walls still firmly resting
upon broad and durable foundations. We believe that
when the shadow of this temporary cloud shall fade away
from her disk, the Episcopal Church in England and
America will shine forth with more than its pristine splen-
dour, and, by God's blessing and grace, be still acknowl-
edged as the pride and glory of Protestant Christendom —
the noble bulwark of the Reformation.
" That once, as out of Zion peal'd the trump
Of ancient gospel — hence the battle voice
Of truth refonn'd should ever bravely roll,
And waken echoes, such as Luther's heart
Could welcome, deep as burning Cranmer's love.
Or Ridley o'er his pangs of fire prolonged !"
In these days when it is fashionable to speak of all the
various classes of opinion and feeling in the Church under
two appellations implying nothing more than gradation,
like that of different notes of music in the same scale, the
reader may be anxious to know whether the subject of this
memoir was a High Churchman, or a Low Churchman?
The writer deems it of very little importance which of
these ecclesiastical party nick-names was given to his
venerated friend, though he would gladly relieve his
memory from whatever might be considered reproachful
in either of them. He is not prepared to adopt the defini-
tion of a clerical wit who said "a High Churchman is a
r r -^
z2
290 MEMOIR OF THE
high foo], and a Low Churchman is a blockhead" — or that
of an equally witty lady who, being asked the difference
between High and Low Churchman, said " there is the
same difference that there is between a cold lo if and a
warm one:" but he believes that the terms are often flip-
pantly used by many who would be unable to give as ac-
curate an interpretation of them as either of the above
quoted.
He is, nevertheless, willing to make an attempt to gratify
what may be deemed by some a reasonable curiosity upon
an important point. But it is necessary to give definitions
before we can pronounce upon the propriety of applying to
any individual terms which may mean any thing or nothing,
according to the peculiar views and prejudices of the person
by whom they are employed.
If by a High Churchman we intend to designate one
who believes the divine origin and perpetual obligation of
the Christian ministry under the Episcopal form, who has
a strong attachment to the Liturgy of the Church, as ad-
mirably adapted to all the purposes of public worship, and
feels bound (o use it before all sermons and lectures accord-
ing to the prescriptions of the canons and rubrics: one who
believes, ex animo, the doctrines taught in the Creeds, the
Articles, and the Homilies, as being agreeable to the word
of God, and the faith of the Catholic Church: who loves
those "old ways" which were marked by the footsteps of
Apostles and Fathers, and stained by the blood of the holy
martyrs, and has no sympathy with the novel inventions of
heresy and schism under their Protean forms ; if these things
constitute a High Churchman, then was Bishop Moore one.
But on the contrary, if to be a High Churchman, is to
depend on union with an Apostolic ministry, and the recep-
tion of Sacraments duly administered, as the ground of a
LIFE OF BISHOP 3I00RE. 291
hope of salvation ; to reverence tradition and the opin-
ions of the Fathers as constituting in combination with
Scripture the foundation and rule of faith ; to oppose
associations, lecture-room services and revivals, as more
dangerous than meetings for worldly amusement and plea-
sure; to be content with an ecclesiastical union to Christ
without a spiritual union with him by faith and love, and
to be satisfied with baptismal regeneration without a reno-
vation of heart, and with the form of godliness without any
experimental knowledge of its power: if these, and other
kindred properties which might be mentioned, constitute
a High Churchman, then Bishop Moore was not one.
Again, If by the term Low Churchman, it is intended
to designate one who, to an attachment to the divinely
constituted ministry and government of the Church, adds
a fervent love for the doctrines of grace as clearly taught
in her Articles, and breathed throughout the hallowed
offices of her Liturgy : — who reverences the Sacraments
and other ordinances as channels of divine grace, and
means of communion with the Lord : one who delights in
associations, lecture-room services, and revivals : one who,
while firmly maintaining his own principles, cherishes a
spirit of forbearance and charity towards the followers of
Christ of every name: who views the Church as a means
rather than an end : and who thinks her highest glory con-
sists, not in the purity of her services, or even in the divine
origin of her institutions, but in the high gifts God bestows
upon her in the holiness and faith of her ministers and
members, and in the honour he has assigned to her as his
chosen instrument in the illumination and salvation of man-
kind: If these things constitute a Low Churchman, then
Bishop Moore was one.
On the other hand, if to be a Low Churchman, is to
attach little importance to Episcopacy, viewing it as an
292 ME3I01R OF THE
institution, which, though of primitive usage, rests upon no
higher ground than that of expediency, and cannot rightly
be considered essential to the perfection, much less the
being of a Church : if it be to regard the Sacraments as
mere matters of form and ceremony rather than as signs
and seals of the covenant of grace: if to have but a loose,
languid regard for the Liturgy, and a willingness to abridge,
mutilate, or omit it whenever caprice or convenience may
dictate : if these and other kindred properties which might
be mentioned, constitute a Low Churchman, then, most
assuredly, Bishop Moore was not one.
On one occasion after a conversation with the writer,
upon Church principles, he playfully remarked — " my dear
friend, you and I may be as high as we please, but they will
always rank us with the low." The real difference, as he
well knew, was not so much in religious opinion as in re-
ligious feeling. And this appears to be recognized in the
new nomenclature which some have recently adopted, who
speak of " the letting-out party," and the holding-in party :"
of" the go-a-head party," and " the stand-still party."
But no servant of God should be willing to wear the
trappings of party livery in the Church ; nor, should he
complain of any nick-name which may be ignorantly or
maliciously applied to him: but should say, with the Apos-
tle, " it is to me a small matter to be judged of you or of
man's judgment: he that judgeth me is the Lord." Such
was the feeling of that venerable servant of God of whom
we now speak. Whatever might be the judgment or the
reproaches of men, he was content with a clear conscience
towards God. Without designating the grade of his church-
manship by any prefix, whether high or low, he was wil-
ling to be known as occupying the broad, common ground
of a Churchman.
If we are not deceived in the " signs of the times" the
LIFE OP BISHOP MOORE. 293
operation of our missionary system and other causes now
at work, will, by God's blessing, bring about such unity of
spirit, that all will be content to cast away their party
livery, as a badge of disgrace rather than of honour; and
nothing more shall be necessary to entitle one to the con-
fidence of all his brethren, than the simple declaration, " I
am a Churchman !"
While Bishop Moore, with the simplicity of a child, re-
ceived all the doctrines contained in the Holy Scripture,
and with his whole heart vindicated and sustained the
principles of the Church, as contained in her standards —
without inquiring whether those principles were embraced
by this man or that — whether they were favoured by one
party or another — being satisfied that those principles were
deduced from, and might be proved by, the Sacred Vo-
lume; he was enabled to adorn the Gospel by a holy life
and by a faithful discharge of his pastoral and official du-
ties; because he habitually looked to God, and earnestly
besought him to strengthen him by his grace, and work in
him to will and to do of his own good pleasure. The fol-
lowing unfinished prayer, found among his manuscripts,
clearly shows, that he was in the habit of casting all his
cares upon the Lord, exercising an entire dependence upon
Him for ability to perform aright the momentous duties of
his ministry, and to furnish him with suitable auxiliaries in
his important work.
" ALMIGHTY FATHER, who in infinite mercy hast pro-
mised to listen to the supplications of those who love and
fear thee : who, for the encouragement of thy creatures,
hast exhorted them to make known unto thee their wishes
and desires : Thou who providest for the young ravens, and
extendesl thy protection to the weak and defenceless, vouch-
294 MEMOIR OF THE
safe to hearken to my voice, and to shelter me under thy
compassionate wings. In a land of strangers, I fly to the
bosom of my God for protection : to that God who hath
fed me all the days of my life, and hath conducted me in
safely from my childhood and helpless infancy to old age.
Blessed Jesus ! in a region in which thy holy religion is so
much disregarded, I look to thee for succour and for help.
In a region in which thy holy name and character are both
derided and denied, I lift up my eyes. In a region in which
infidelity is countenanced, and the divinity of the Redeemer
is disputed, I call for an interest in thy paternal care. Oh,
bow thy heavens, gracious God, and come down to my re-
lief. Let it be known that there is a God in Israel, and
that I am thy servant. For years, Gracious God, have I
stretched forth my ministerial arm to a gainsaying people.
Hasten the period, I beseech thee, when all opposition to
thy cross shall be prostrated in the dust — when men shall
feel their sinfulness, and be made to know the want of a
Saviour — when vice and immorality shall be driven from
our abodes, and prayer and praise be heard in every dwell-
ing. Have mercy, oh God, upon those who have no mercy
upon themselves. Open their eyes, that they may see the
wondrous things contained in thy word, and seek a refuge
from thy just indignation. Arise and have mercy upon
Zion. Build up our desolate walls, and fill thy sanctuary
with pious worshippers. Send forth, I beseech thee, la-
bourers into thy vineyard, labourers influenced by thy
grace to discharge their duly with fidelity, and qualified to
advance the happiness of those entrusted to their care.
Dispose them, gracious God, to study thy holy word, that
they may be conversant with its truths, and prepared for
the defence of thy gospel. Inspire them with the love of
prayer ; warm their hearts with the charity of thy reli-
LIFE OF BISHOP MOORE. 295
gion. Meekly instructing those who oppose themselves^
oh let them rise superior to all the temptations of the world.
Make them holy, blessed God, in heart and in life, giving
no offence in any thing that the ministry be not blamed."
The man who thus habitually waited as a suppliant at
the throne of grace, and, under a consciousness of his own
ignorance and impotence, " made known his requests unto
God by prayer and supplication, together with thanks-
giving," could not fail to obtain the guidance of the Divine
Spirit, and to have '' God's strength made perfect in his
weakness." Accordingly, in the distinguished alacrity and
success with which all his public duties were performed
we behold striking illustrations of the power and efficacy
of prayer. Wherever he went in the name of Jesus, he
was accompanied with the presence and blessing of the
Master. Never, perhaps, was there a Christian Bishop
whose public ministrations were more fully and uniformly
attended with a manifest blessing from on high. But
there were some occasions when he appeared to much
greater advantage than at others. If we were to name
those when the " unction from the Holy One" seemed more
abundantly to rest upon him, and diffuse around its sacred
odours, we would select those annual ones, when he was seat-
ed as a patriarch in the midst of his ecclesiastical family.
Yes ! they alone have seen Bishop Moore in his glory, who
have beheld him discharging the duties of his high func-
tion as President of a Virginia Convention.
A Virginia Convention! There is something to ani-
mate and warm the heart in the very title ! When we
speak of most other Diocesan Conventions, we think of
assemblages of the clergy and lay delegates, with the
Bishop at their head, convened chiefly for the purpose of
296 MEMOIR OF THE
attending to ecclesiastical business — of regulating the fiscal
and other ordinary interests of the diocese. But how dif-
ferent the impression made upon the mind when a Virginia
Convention is spoken of! The annual ecclesiastical meet-
ings of that diocese have but little of a secular character
connected with them ! Business is but a secondary and
subordinate matter. The assembly is not limited to the
elected members, but is a gathering together of the devoted
friends of the Church, clerical and lay, from all parts of
the state, not excepting the more distant and remote pa-
rishes. Persons of all ranks and ages — "young men and
maidens, old men and children," — are gathered together
for the purpose of religious improvement and spiritual edifi-
cation. It is such a scene as was exhibited among God's
people of old, at their solemn festivals, as described in the
words of the Psalmist, " 1 was glad when they said unto
me, we will go into the house of the Lord. Our feet shall
stand in thy gates, Jerusalem. Jerusalem is built as a
city that is at unity in itself. For thither the tribes go up,
even the tribes of the Lord, to testify unto Israel, to give
thanks unto the name of the Lord."
In the midst of the hallowed and interesting scenes of
that annual festival, the Bishop moved as the presiding
genius. He was the centre of attraction and unity to the
numerous family of devoted and afiectionate children by
which he was surrounded. He was a leader or participa-
tor in the numerous devotional services which took place
day after day, and night after night. His heart glowed
with the kindled fervours of faith and love; his eyes spar-
kled under the inspiration of hope and joy ; and his tongue
flowed with melting eloquence, as now he urged his minis-
ters to greater zeal and faithfulness, and then exhorted the
people to repentance and a holy life. These annual Con-
LIFE OF BISHOP MOORE. 297
ventions were to him sources of unaffected pleasure and
delight. As, amidst these times of refreshing, he beheld
the word of God taking effect upon the hearts and con-
sciences of the people, and witnessed answers to prayer in
the conversion of sinners, he rose to higher and higher de-
grees of enjoyment, till, as the end drew near, it seemed as
if he were in a rapture or ecstacy; just ready, like Eli-
jah, to go up in a chariot of fire to heaven ! Never have
we witnessed a spectacle which so nearly answered to our
idea of the purity, and joy, and love of the primitive
Church, as the closing scene of a Virginia Convention.
When the body of weeping clergy gathered around the
altar, while, in the presence of a crowded but praying as-
sembly, their Right Reverend Father in God, with shaking
hands and whitened locks, stood before them as an appro-
priate representative and successor of the Apostles — and,
with streaming eyes, and a voice tremulous with emotion,
gave them his parting counsels, and pronounced over them
his affectionate fa re we — 11a scene was presented upon
which attending angels might gaze with rapture.
We give the following as a specimen of the farewell
addresses. But, alas ! it cannot be accompanied with the
sweet voice, the appropriate gesture, the melting eye, the
overwhelming pathos and feeling which threw around the va-
ledictories of the living Bishop their most attractive charms.
" My Clerical Brethren, — As we have finished the duties
for which we convened in this city, and, as life is so uncer-
tain that we cannot all calculate upon meeting on a simi-
lar occasion, I should consider myself deficient in duty were
I to permit a separation to take place without bringing to
your view some considerations of vital importance to your-
selves, to the flocks to whom you minister in sacred things,
A A
298 MEMOIR OF THE
and also offering some remarks expressive of the gratitude
we owe the Almighty for the rich mercies conferred upon
us as servants of the altar, and the Church committed to
our charge. The concourse of people who attend our
Conventions from every part of the diocese, attest the re-
sponsibility of our office ; prove the interest they feel in the
concerns of our Zion, and proclaim to us, in language
which cannot be misunderstood, the necessity of minis-
terial fidelity. What ambassador of the Saviour can look
around him at this moment, without the conviction resting
on his mind that he will have to give an account of his
stewardship ; that the precious immortals who attend on
his ministry merit his unwearied efforts ; that it is his duty
to deliver his Master's message with scrupulous fidelity; in
season and out of season, to call sinners to repentance; to
lead them for salvation to the Lamb of God, and to press
on their consciences the necessity of that holiness without
which no man can see the Lord ? To slumber at our posts
at the time when our parishioners are anxiously inquiring,
« Watchman what of the night — Watchman what of the
night ]' To be listless and unimpressed when they are
asking, in accents of the most thrilling anxiety, ' What shall
we do to be saved V To be cold and inanimate when the
eternal inteiests of precious immortals are committed to our
charge, would constitute criminality of the most flagrant
character, and call down on our devoted heads the dis-
pleasure of heaven. When we cast our eyes around us,
from the pulpits we occupy on the Sabbath, and witness the
assemblies of God's people in the sanctuary, we should re-
member that they form the objects of the Saviour's com-
passion ; the beings for whom he shed his precious blood,
and for whom he died on the cross. We should recollect
that the great Master of Assemblies is certainly present in
LIFE OF BISHOP MOOEE. 299
our congregations, waiting to be gracious to the impenitent ;
that the Holj Spirit is also present to give efficacy to our
instructions, and is pleading with sinners to awake from
their slumbers, and to follow Jesus in the way. These con-
siderations should influence us to be in earnest; to warn
our fellow-mortals of the dangers attendant on delay ; to
urge them in the deepest solemnity to prepare to meet their
God ; nay, brethren, to pray them, in Christ's stead, to be
reconciled to their Maker ; immediately to close in with
the offers of divine mercy, and to seek, by ardent prayer,
the pardon and forgiveness of their sins. We should per-
mit no considerations of pleasure or indulgence to step in
between us and our pastoral duty. We should show the
people, by our earnestness and solicitude, that we consider
the delay of a moment may be attended with fatal conse-
quences, and that the present hour is the accepted time
and the day of salvation. My beloved sons in the ministry,
we have no time to fold our arms in ease and indolence.
' Why stand ye here all the day idle?' forms a question
which, if justly applied to us, should excite the most awful
alarm in our bosoms: as the next declaration from the
throne of heaven would be ' Cast ye the unprofitable ser-
vant into outer darkness.' However attentive the minis-
ter of religion may have been to his duty ; however sleep-
less may have been his nights, however abundant may have
been his labours; however favourable may be the opinion
formed of his industry, his zeal, and his efforts in the gos-
pel ; yet, when he shall come to the close of his life, he will
feel that he has been deficient, and that conviction will
force from his expiring lips the penetrating cry of' Mercy,
oh! thou Son of David.' I speak to you, my sons, as a
father to his children ; and it is from an experience of for-
ty-five years as a preacher of the gospel, that I call upon
300 MEMOIR OF THE
you to be faithful. For Jesus Christ's sake, who died for
poor sinners, be attentive to the sacred vows which, at
the time of your ordination, you voluntarily made. Labour
with diligence in the vineyard of your Master, work while
it is called to-day, and never be weary in well-doing. Be
faithful unto death, and God will give you a crown of ever-
lasting life. Let not the discouragements arising from the
lukewarmness of your people paralyze your eflforts. Let
not any momentary unkindness stay your hand. In pro-
portion to the sterility of the soil you may be called to cul-
tivate, let your diligence be increased.
My brethren of the laity, accept my sincere thanks for the
patronage you have extended to myself and to the clergy.
The Episcopal Church in Virginia, which was almost
breathless and expiring a few years since, has not only re-
vived, but, through the goodness of God on our joint efforts,
now exhibits animation and strength. Instead of five or
six efficient clergymen, the Almighty has increased our
number to between fifty and sixty. 'Not unto us, O Lord,
not unto us, but to thy name be the praise, for thy honour
and for thy truth's sake.' Since my residence in this
diocese, the laity belonging to our communion have erected
between thirty and forty new churches, and have raised
from a state of ruin and dilapidation at least thirty of the
old places of worship. We have reason to be thankful for
what God hath done for us, and to take courage and press
forward. My brethren of the clergy and laity, I commend
you to the care of that being in whose service you are en-
gaged. May you long live to see our Zion increase in
stature, under the ministry of my Right Rev. brother,
Bishop Meade. My gray hairs point to the tomb. My
frequent and violent attacks of disease remind me of my
proximity to the grave, and proclaim to me, in language I
LIFE OF BISHOP MOORE. 301
perfectly understand, that we must soon shake hands and
bid each other farewell. But let that event take place
sooner or later, my heart is comforted with the hope that
I shall leave you in safe hands ; in the care of an individual
who is in the vigour of life ; who loves you, and will labour
hard to promote your present and everlasting happiness.
My blessing ^hall rest upon his head; and the welfare of
himself, of the clergy and people of the diocese, will form
one of the objects of my last earthly supplications.
The Lord be with you all!
Richard Changing Moore."
A celebrated poetess of ourcountry, having been present
at one of these affecting farewells, thus describes the scene :
BE STRONG FOR GOD WHEN YOUR OLD BISHOP S DEAD ,
BY MRS. SIGOURNEY.
They cluster'd round that listening throng,
The parting hour drew nigh,
And heighten'd feeling, deep and etrong.
Spoke forth from eye to eye.
For reverend in his hoary years,
A white-robed prelate bent,
And trembling pathos wing'd his words.
As to the heart they went.
With saintly love he urged the crowd
Salvation's hope to gain ;
While, gathering o'er his furrow'd cheek,
The tears fell down like rain.
A A*
302 MEMOIR OF THE
He waved his hand, and music woke
A warm and solemn strain,
His favorite hymn swell'd high, and fiU'd
The consecrated fane.
Then from the hallow'd chancel forth,
With faltering step he sped,
And fervent laid a father's hand
On every priestly head.
And breathed the ble?sing of his God
And, full of meekness, said :
" Be faithful in your Master's work.
When your old bishop's dead.
" For more than fifty years, my sons,
A Saviour's love supreme
Unto a sinful world, hath been
My unexhausted theme :
" Now, see, the blossoms of the grave
Are o'er my temples spread,
Oh ! lead the seeking soul to Him
When your old bishop's dead."
Far waned the holy Sabbath-eve
On towards the midnight hour,
Before the spell-bound throng retired
To slumber's soothing power.
Yet many a sleeper mid his dream.
Beheld in snowy stole,
That patriarch-prelate's bending form.
Whose accents stirr'd the soul.
LIFE OF BISHOP HOORE. 303
In smiles the summer morn arose,
And many a grateful guest,
Forth from those hospitable domes,
With tender memories pressed.
While o'er the broad and branching bay,
Which, like a heart doth pour
A living tide, in countless streams.
Through fair Virginia's shore:
O'er Rappahannock's fringed breast,
O'er rich Potomac's tide.
Or where the bold resistless James
Rolls on with monarch pride.
The boats that ask nor sail nor oar.
With speed majestic glide.
And many a thoughtful pastor leans
In silence o'er their side.
And, while he seems to scan the flood
In silver 'neath him spread,
Revolves the charge, " Be strong for God
When your old Bisho'p's dead."
The holy man whose exhortations and example proved
such incentives to the zeal and diligence of the clergy
under his Episcopal superintendence, — who was the centre
of attraction and the instrument of blessedness and joy in
his own Diocese, was also the honored means of promoting
the interests of truth and the extension of evangelical re-
ligion in other sections of the Church. Wherever he went
he was received with marked tokens of veneration and
love. Nor was he ever disposed to be an idler ; but in his
various excursions, even at a very advanced period of life,
304 MEMOIR OF THE
when most men desire repose from public duty, he was al-
ways ready to preach the Gospel and labour for the salva-
tion of souls. He was a great favourite in Baltimore; and
in the fall of 1839, during the late vacancy in the Episco-
pate of Maryland, he visited that city for the purpose of
consecrating St. Andrew's Church. It was a time of re-
vival, when a deep interest in the subject of religion per-
vaded the minds of a large portion of the population. It
was one of those " seasons of refreshing" which the Bishop
enjoyed most thoroughly. He preached in the different
Churches day after day, aud night after night, for the
greater part of a week; and such was the refreshment of
spirit which he found in the holy exercises of the sanctuary,
that he made no complaint of bodily weakness or fatigue.
Among the interesting reminiscences connected with that
visit, there is one touching incident worthy of a permanent
record. With all the zeal and energy of youth, that " old
man eloquent" had proclaimed to a crowded auditory the
love of Jesus and the riches of redeeming grace. The place
was the lecture-room of St. Peter's church. After the bene-
diction had been pronounced, the people seemed unwilling
to retire and separate themselves from the hallowed scene.
During the solemn pause which ensued, four young gentle-
men, who had been previously associated in the pursuits of
worldliness and gayety, but who had been led by renewing
grace to choose that good part which can never be taken
away, left the bench where they had been seated, and
with locked arms walked up together to the front of the
desk, while one of them, in a brief but beautiful address,
solicited on behalfof himself and friends the Episcopal bless-
ing! With overflowing eyes, and a voice trembling with
emotion, the Bishop placed his hands upon their heads,
LIFE OP BISHOP MOORE. 305
gave them his benediction, and in few words exhorted them
to be faithful unto death !
It was a spectacle of thrilling interest to all beholders.
The Bishop frequently adverted to it afterwards, as one by
which he was deeply affected. He was especially touched
when he overheard the fervent aspiration that came from
the heart of some mother near the desk, " O, that my son
were one of that blessed band !"
Highly did he enjoy that season — for there was no music
so sweet to his ear as the sigh of penitence or the song of
praise gushing freshly from the new-born soul. He often
spoke of the interest and joy connected with that brief
visit ; and there are others who will never forget them
" While life, and thought, and being last,
Or immortality endures."
He again visited Baltimore in September, 1840, to assist
in the consecration of the Rev. Dr. Whittingham to the
Episcopate of Maryland. He was much gratified by the
opportunity afforded him of intercourse with several of his
brethren in the Episcopal office, and rejoiced in the unani-
mous election and happy consecration of one whose dis-
tinguished talents, and acknowledged piety, afforded ground
for the hope that, by God's blessing, he would prove a
centre of unity, and an example of zeal and diligence to
the clergy and laity of that important but long distracted
diocese.
We know of no other events in the life of the subject
of this Memoir which it is important to record, with the
exception of some which occurred within a few months
preceding his decease.
The son of his beloved and distinguished nephew, the
Rev. Dr. Bedell, having received his theological education
306 MEMOIR OF THE
at the Virginia Seminary, and been ordained Deacon in St.
Andrew's Church, Philadelphia, by Bishop Moore, at the
request of the Bishop of Pennsylvania, was desirous of re-
ceiving Priest's Orders by the same hands. Having ob-
tained the permission of his Diocesan to this effect, the
arrangement was accordingly made for the ordination to
take place in August, 1841.
The Bishop seems to have had an impression, induced by
his very advanced age, that this visit to the north would
probably be his last. This may fairly be inferred from the
following extract from a letter to one of his sons, who had
proposed accompanying him to the Springs.
Richmond, Va., July 28th, 1841.
" My Dear Son, — I have received your very affectionate
letter, expressing your disposition to attend me to Saratoga,
and do think that such an excursion would be productive
of great benefit to my health; but I am unwilling to
give up all thought of attending the General Convention;
and should I go to the north at present, I would be under
the necessity of absenting myself from Virginia for three
months — a length of time I cannot reconcile to my mind.
Your kind offer, however, of going with me to the Springs,
is not the less acceptable, and proves to me, with additional
force, your affection and regard.
The impossibility of visiting my children immediately,
renders me more anxious to be with you than I otherwise
should be ; and should I see my way clear, I may see you
by the last of next month. But as such an event is de-
pendent on various circumstances, you must not expect me
before that time, of which I will give you timely notice.
Old age forces itself on my reflection, especially as my
LIFE OF BISHOP MOORE. 307
health is more imperfect than common ; but as my appetite
has returned in a small degree, I entertain a hope that I
may regain sufficient of my stamina to enable me to travel,
and, indeed, to enjoy a change of air and objects ; and,
above all, the society of my dear children."
It was natural that, on so peculiar an occasion as the
ordination of one of their kinsmen, and that, perhaps, the
last occasion on which he would perform this duty of his
office, he should desire the presence of the clerical mem-
bers of his family. The following letter to his eldest son,
conveying such a request, at the same time evinces his
unabated fondness for professional duties.
Philadelphia, Aug. 22d, 1841,
" My Dear Son, — Although your sister G has written
to you, requesting you to visit this city at the present time,
still, as her letter may have miscarried, I have concluded
to add my entreaties, as an additional inducement for you
to come on; especially as it will be so agreeable to me to
have your protection on my journey further north. I really
have arrived at a period of life when I require the aid of
my children to render my travelling at all comfortable.
Your cousin, Bedell, has appointed an Association in his
parish, to commence on Thursday next, which will be
concluded by his admission to the Priesthood, on Sunday,
the 29th inst. ; and as I am to officiate on that occasion, it
would be highly gratifying to me that you should be pre-
sent to unite with me in the imposition of hands on the
head of the candidate. I will return with you, and preach
in your church the Sunday following; and should my
strength admit of the effort, I will also go with you to
MEMOIR OF THE
Trinity Chapel in the afternoon. I think I feel better for
my excursion thus far, and hope to tind further benefit from
proceeding as far as Staten Island and New York. If
Channing could make it convenient, I do think it would be
no more than proper that he should also unite in the ordi-
nation of his cousin.
Your affectionate father,
R. C. Moore."
The ordination took place in conformity with the arrange-
ments mentioned in the foregoing letter; and the Rev. Mr.
Bedell has kindly communicated an account of the services
connected with that interesting occasion, which will now
be spread before the reader.
Westchester, May 12lh, 1842.
Rev. and Dear Sir, — A better illustration of the affec-
tion, and laboriousness, and zeal of my dear uncle, has not
come to my knowledge, than is afforded by the circum-
stances of his first and last visit to my parish, Westchester,
Pennsylvania. As he then performed one of his last Epis-
copal acts, those circumstances may be of interest to you
in the memoir you are about to write ; and I give you
6uch impressions as remain of that visit, that you may
make such use of them as you shall see proper.
It is known to you that I am the grandson of his youngest
and favourite sister, and the last of seven descendants of
his mother, whom Christ has led to desire part in the
ministry of his Church. The interest which he took in
my progress towards that ministry, as well as his near re-
lationship, and the love we ever bore towards him, made
our whole family desirous that he should, if possible, ordain
LIFE OF BISHOP MOORE. 309
me. By the kindness of Bishop H. U. Onderdonk, he was
invited to this duty, and did ordain me in July, 1840, in St.
Andrew's Church, Philadelphia, himself, by request of
Bishop Onderdonk, preaching the ordination sermon. As
the time drew near when, by the canons of the Church, I
might be admitted to the Priesthood, God's good providence
having continued the life and strength of my revered uncle,
the desire to have him perform this second ordination also,
prompted a request to that effect to my Diocesan. With
his usual kindness, he immediately complied with the re-
quest; and it was to perform the act that Bishop Moore
visited Westchester on the 27th of August last.
The day previous, the services of an association had been
commenced in my parish. The Bishop was aware of this,
and hastened his visit on that account. He had not been
well during the preceding months, and was little able to
go out of his way; nevertheless, his affection prevailed
with him, and he arrived here about 5 o'clock of the S6th,
after a fatiguing ride from the city. By the time he had
taken tea, the hour had arrived of our meeting for prayer,
held before the more public service. I said to him, " I
suppose you will be too much fatigued to come over now.
Uncle." " I don't know that," he replied. And, much to
my surprise, just as the meeting commenced, he walked in
and took his place in the chancel. That evening, his son
Channing, preached; and he followed with one of those
moving addresses, with which no one knew better than he
how to follow up a sermon. Weary though he was, "he
had come up to work," he said; and he hesitated not to
begin at once.
On the next morning, he examined me for Orders. In
the afternoon, he again appeared at the services. At the
BB
310 MEMOIR OF THE
prayer-meeting of the evening, he was again present,
joined with his melodious voice in the Liturgy, of which he
at least never wearied, and listened afterwards with mark-
ed attention to a sermon by Dr. Tyng. This he followed
by a touching appeal in behalf of the Saviour he loved.
I shall never forget, how the " old man eloquent" stood
that evening, on the borders of the grave, his white locks,
and his uplifted, trembling finger, telling of experienced
age; but in the cause of Christ, forgetting every \veakness of
the flesh, one finger only resting on the chancel-rail, his whole
frame roused by the energy of his mind, and active under
the influence of his feelings. How impressively he told us
of the Saviour whom he had served for fifty years, and bid
us hear an old man's testimony, that no service was so glad
as that ; and none could enter on it too early in life; that
he had found no occasion to repent his choice, but rather
deemed it wiser each step he drew nearer to the grave ; and
that as he looked soon to leave this world, no thought gave
him such satisfaction as that he was a servant of Christ.
The tears of not a few persons in (he audience, showed the
power of his eloquence : among them was an old soldier of
the revolution, who told me afterwards he had not shed a
tear before for years. With such services the week closed.
On the morrow was the ordination. Rev. Channing
Moore, with the Rev. Dr. Tyng, shared the morning ser-
vice. Rev. Dr. Lee, Bishop elect, preached. Bishop
Moore performed the ordination, and administered the com-
munion, made another powerful exhortation before the dis-
tribution of the elements, and took part in the distribution.
In the afternoon he was again present at the services ;
and so far from showing weariness, was so wrapt up in one
of Dr. Tyng's delightftil displays of the fulness of the sal-
LIFE OF BISHOP MOORE. 311
vation in Christ, and the freeness of its offer to sinners, that
apparently forgetting where he was, he cried out, " That's
true ! that's true !" The effect was great ; and not dimi-
nished when the preacher, catching the sound, adverted to
the sanction given by age to the truth which he proclaimed.
The evening services gave us, as a people, the last sight of
his benevolent countenance. These were unusually long;
for after the sermon, Dr. Tyng made an address of an hour
in length. But the Bishop gathered up his strength for the
occasion, and at the close of a day of labour, which would
have exhausted many a younger man, made the most
powerful appeal to his " dear children" that I ever heard
from his lips. You know, for you have heard, the subjects
of his closing addresses. They were similar, but ever new.
And as he laid his spectacles back upon his forehead, and
thanked his new friends for their kindness, and spoke of
the little expectation he had of seeing them again in this
world, and implored them to meet him at the right hand
of the Saviour, in judgment, and asserted his willingness to
fall on his knees and pray them to yield to the striving spirit,
if that would avail, and weeping, and hesitating through
emotion, besought them to be reconciled to God : every
word seemed a neiu shaft of power to pierce the hardest
heart.
We can speak of these things now, but we shall not
hear them again. He was a true prophet, when, at West-
chester, he said we should see his face no more. We were
unwilling to believe it, and hoped against hope that many
times he might be in abundant labours in our midst. He
has gone to his rest in full faith on the Saviour he told us
of, and so long served without weariness or disappointment.
And a more affectionate, laborious, zealous, devoted,
312 MEMOIR OF THE
eloquent, father in our Israel, sleeps not in the tomb, than
good Uncle Moore.
I am obediently yours,
G. T. Bedell.
Rev. Dr. Henshaw.
Having spent the intervening time with his children and
friends in New York and its vicinity, he was present at the
opening of the General Convention in that city, on the Cth
October, 1841. He took a deep interest in the proceed-
ings of that body, relating, as some of them did, to some of
the most important measures which had ever been pre-
sented to the consideration of that highest legislature of
the Church. Occasionally he was seen as an interested
listener to the animated debates of the House of Clerical
and Lay Deputies, and daily was he found occupying his
seat in the House of J3ishops, taking his appropriate part
in the deliberations and acts of that branch of the Con-
vention. Among other important topics of consideration,
there was a most interesting proposal to send two Missionary
Bishops to foreign land*. The experiment of Missionary
Bishops at home, had been tried, and found to be attended
with the happiest results; and there are many who believe
that the Church will not have complied with the purposes
of her Divine Head, nor have yielded obedience to his
plain command, till she has sent forth men invested with
the full powers of the Christian ministry, in its highest
order, to conduct her Missionary operations among the be-
nighted and perishing nations of the earth. As Apostles
were the first Missionaries, so the successors to their office
must be the leaders of the " sacramental host," in its aggres-
sive movements against the dominion of the powers of dark-
LIFE OF BISHOP MOOEE. 313
ness. This proposal to send out foreign Missionary Bishops,
believed by its movers to be the most momentous one which
had ever been submitted to the Church since its organiza-
tion in this country, received the almost unanimous ap-
proval of the House of Bishops, but was not sustained by
the majority of votes in the other House. While the
matter was under discussion by the Bishops, and it was
somewhat doubtful what their decision would be, Bishop
Moore, contrary to his usual policy — which, in reference to
Foreign Missions, had been extremely cautious, not to say
timid — advocated the proposal with the utmost boldness
and earnestness.
On this important point, we quote the words of Bishop
Meade.
" In relation to the sentiments of our deceased father on
the most interesting points of doctrine and practice, I can
testify that they have more and more coincided with those
denominated evangelical in the Church of God. His
sympathies, his habits, were with those ministers who held
them, distinctly preached them, and acted in accordance
with them. There was one point in which, from a pecu-
liarity in his constitutional temperament, he shrunk back
from action with them, and with those of different views on
some subjects, but of the same on this — I mean the Foreign
Missionary Work. From an extreme tenderness of nature,
he revolted at thought of the dangers and hardships of the
Missionary life, and could not bring himself to recommend
young men of his ordination to choose the foreign field;
although he never sought to hinder the good work, but
ever said to myself, that I was at perfect liberty to use
any means for its promotion. I allude to this, in order to
bb2
314 3IEM0IR OF THE
give force to the following fact, which I t ike indescribable
pleasure in mentioning.
" At our last General Convention, the subject of foreign
missions was one most prominent in the House of Bishops,
and it was the desire of the bishops to take more vigorous
measures than heretofore to enlarge the field of their ope-
ration. They proposed the appointment of two Bishops,
the one for Texas, the other for Western Africa, and de-
signated two individuals for the same. The brethren of
the House of Bishops will testify to the manner in which
our aged father delivered his sentiments on the subject,
how emphatically he declared his hearty approbation of
the measures, and how in reply to the objection that means
could not be obtained for such additional expenses, he
solemnly called upon us to proceed in the good work, doing
our duty, and putting our trust in the Lord, who vv'ould pro-
vide. I can truly say that my heart was greatly encour-
aged by his words, but I little thought that they were to
be the very last words I should hear from his lips. Were
they not in anticipation of his death — the words put into
his mouth by the Spirit of the Lord, lest after his death
any one should be allowed to say that Bishop Moore lived
and died indifferent to Foreign Missions ? Let them be his
legacy to this diocese, his last exhortation to us to remem-
ber Africa and Texas in our prayers and contributions."
During the session of the General Convention the writer
of these pages often met with his venerated friend. On
several occasions they dined together, and never did the
Bishop appear to enjoy the pleasures of social Christian
intercourse more highly. Full of vivacity and cheerfulness,
abounding in anecdote and sprightly conversation, he was
the chief attraction of every circle, and his conversational
LIFE OF BISHOP MOORE. 315
powers seemed like a brilliant jet d^eau, which sparkles
most brightly in reflecting the rays of the setting sun.
Little did we think on parting, after one of those scenes of
innocent enjoyment, at the house of a mutual friend, that
it was for the last time.
Bishop Moore left New York and returned home before
the final adjournment of the General Convention. This
probably was occasioned by some call of parochial duty, or
by his desire to have a short season of repose in the bosom
of his family, before entering upon that visitation which
was destined to bring his earthly labours to a close.
After his arrival in Richmond he officiated and preached
on a funeral occasion. His address was extempore, and
such was his energy, animation, and fervour, and such the
influence of his exhortation, that an old Christian of another
denomination said, " Surely this must be his last, last mes-
sage to Richmond." It was so. Two days after he
obeyed the call of duty, and commenced, in his eightieth
year, a journey of one hundred and fifty miles, to Lynch-
burg, to perform Episcopal functions. He arrived at that
place on Thursday, 5th of November. On Friday he at-
tended divine service in the forenoon — in the afternoon he
met, at the Rector's house, the candidates for confirmation,
and made them a very admirable address on the qualifica-
tions for that holy rite. In the evening he attended divine
service again, and, after a sermon by one of his presbyters,
he made an address characterized by the highest degree of
pathos, animation, and energy. Eyes that seldom wept
were suffused with tears, and some of the most hardened
in impenitence were softened, when the old and venerable
servant of God, in tenderest accents, and with outstretched,
trembling hands, and fervent love, heralded, for the last
316 MEMOIR OF THE
time, the good tidings of the gospel, and " entreated them,
for Christ's sake, to be reconciled to God."
At the close of a day, thus usefully and joyfully spent in
the service of his Master — lovely and appropriate end of
such a life ! — the fatal shaft was sped — and within three
hours after his tongue had been employed in exhorting his
fellow men to the pursuit of heaven, he was seized by that
sickness which so speedily conducted him to the joys of that
blissful state.
The subjoined statement of the Rev. Mr. Atkinson, at
whose house he expired, giving a detailed account of his
last hours, will be perused with mournful, but pleasing in-
terest.
" In compliance with my earnest solicitations early in
the summer, Bishop Moore had promised to make a visita-
tion to Lynchburg during the summer or autumn. From
the General Convention he wrote to me that he would be
with me on the first Sunday in November. On the Thurs-
day before, being the 4th day of November, I met him at
the boat, which had brought him up from Richmond, and
took him to my own house. He was that evening fatigued
but did not seem unwell. A few friends came in to see
him after supper, but he did not converse much and retired
early. I was told afterwards, by a fellow passenger. Judge
Balch, of Florida, that on board the boat the Bishop had
been very cheerful, and that his benignity, vivacity, and
conversational powers, had rendered his society exceedingly
delightful, during the two days of their journey from Rich-
mond. The morning after his arrival I went into the
Bishop's room, to carry him down to breakfast. He had dress-
ed himself, and seemed entirely refreshed from his fatigue
of the night before. At family prayer, he asked me to
LIFE OF BISHOP MOORE. 317
read a portion of Scripture, while he would himself pray ;
1 accordingly read one of the Psalms, and I remember
being struck at the conclusion of it, with the tone and ex-
pression of countenance with which he said, " how beauti-
ful is that psalm !" It struck me as showing how truly he
sympathized with the feelings of affectionate, hopeful,
cheerful trust in God, which the Psalmist so often and so
touchingly expresses. Certainly piety never wore a more
amiable aspect than as exhibited by Bishop Moore. At
eleven o'clock he went to Church, where there was service
and a sermon by one of his clergy. He sat in the chancel
and said nothing. In the afternoon a number of persons,
the greater part of whom were candidates for confirma-
tion, met at my house for the purpose of receiving more
special and distinct religious instruction than could well be
conveyed by public services. These he addressed in a
very edifying as well as affecting manner. That same
night he went to Church again. I did not urge him to do
this, but I have since regretted that I had not urged him
not to do it. It was too much fatigue for a man at his
time of life. A carriage was always kept waiting for him,
but neither at this time nor before would he use it, greatly
preferring to walk.
After the sermon on that evening, he rose to address the
congregation. I had often heard him on similar occasions,
and been exceedingly moved by his fatherly exhortations.
But never was I more impressed than at this time. His
placid affectionate countenance, his hoary locks flowing
down his neck and shoulders, his trembling hands upraised
above the congregation, would have touched the feelings
of any man without a word being spoken. And his words
were so solemn, so tender, so simple, so parental, that it
did seem as if he were expostulating with his hearers, as
318 MEMOIR OF THE
with his dear children, as he several times called them.
No wonder, then, that not a few were in tears. From the
Church he walked home. The evening was chilly, the
Church had been a good deal heated, and he was himself
excited by speaking. 1 doubt not, then, that during that
walk, rendered slow by his age and infirmities, he greatly
increased a cold under which he had previously laboured,
and truly laid the foundation of the violent disease under
which he so soon sunk. On reaching home, however, there
was no indication of this. We sat together for an hour or
two by ourselves before he retired to bed, and his conversa-
tion was as animated and interesting, as I ever knew it.
He slept at the opposite extremity of the house from the
chamber which 1 occupied, and there was a passage and
another room between us. I wished a servant to sleep in
the room with him, both this night and the night before,
but in each instance he declined it, saying he was not ac-
customed to it, and it was not necessary. During the night
he rose, and when attempting to get back into bed he fell
and called for help. At first I did not hear him, being at
such a distance and asleep, but in a few minutes I was
waked by a servant that slept in a room between us, and
hastened into his, and assisted him to get into bed. We
thought he had been for some time on the floor, unable to
rise, but my servant had heard him fall and thought it was
a very few minutes. After getting into bed, he took some
slight stimulant, and I again left him for the night, taking
care, however, that there should now be a servant sleeping
in the room. In the morning when J went to see him, I
found him in bed, and complaining of being unwell. I re-
commended to him not to get up, but to let me send for a
physician to prescribe for him. I should not have thought
this necessary in an ordinary case, but his age, and the
LIFE OF BISHOP MOORE. 319
value of his life, made it necessary that nothing should be
neglected. The physician called in, thought the case more
serious than I did, but did not seem to anticipate danger.
This was on Saturday morning. His worst symptom was
a pain in his left side, that was, however, soon removed by
bleeding. All that day he lay very quiet, talking but little,
and not complaining of much pain or sickness. His appe-
tite, however, had left him. He had hoped on Sunday
morning to get up, but when the time came it was mani-
festly improper, though he seemed better. That morning
he was to have administered Confirmation, had he not been
taken sick, and numbers of people had come in from the
country to witness it, and to see and hear him. So great was
the anxiety to be present, that persons had left home be-
fore daybreak, and ridden many miles to be at Church that
day. This was mainly because of the veneration in
which he was held for his age, his piety, his eloquence, and
his faithful and successful labours in building up the Church
in Virginia. When his sickness was announced, it evident-
ly produced general grief and anxiety. It was then hoped
that he might confirm on Tuesday evening, and notice to
that etTec was given. On Monday morning he seemed
very greatly better and talked much and cheerfully. On
the evening of that day, however, a sudden and most painful
change took place. He became delirious, and the pain
in his side intense. Other physicians were called in to con-
sult and the most active and, I believe, skilful remedies
were used. But for a long time they were of no avail,
and by one o'clock the physicians believed he would die
before day-break. They thought it so certain that it was
proper to mention it to him. I was left alone with him for
that purpose. He had just waked up from sleep, refreshed
and soothed by an anodyne he had taken, and his first
6'ZO MEMOIR OF THE
words were to express his comfort. I then told him dis-
tinctly, but as gently as possible, what the physicians
thought, and that if any thing remained to be done by him
either for this life or another, it must be done now. He
was evidently surprised, not, I believe, having thought
himself in much danger before. He immediately answered
however, with perfect composure, to this effect : '* Well, Sir,
Itrnst all Ihings are arranged with me for both worlds.'-
He then asked if the doctors thought mortification had
taken place : I told him no, but that they feared he would
be suffocated by the phlegm that was accumulating in his
throat. I then asked him if he had any message for any
of his family. He said nothing but love for his dear chil-
dren. I asked him to recollect whether there might not
be something particular that he would wish to say. He
said he would think if there were any such thing. But
after being silent awhile, he went to sleep without speak-
ing. About this time a favourable change took place. His
blister drew, and he was relieved from the phlegm that
seemed likely to choke him. There was again some,
though but a faint hope of his recovery. For two days
longer he lingered, lying generally in an unconscious state,
though sometimes he would rouse up, and converse a little.
Once or twice I asked him anew if he had any communica-
tion to make to any of his friends. His reply was the same
as at first. " Nothing but love for his dear children." On
Thursday morning, about a quarter after one o'clock, his
pure and gentle spirit went to its place, I doubt not, but
assuredly believe, in favour with God, and in peace with
all the world. On that same day I set out, together with
the Rev. Mr. Doughen, to carry his remains to Richmond.
His deportment during sickness, was such as became the
termination of a life spent as his had been. Even in pain
LIFE OF BISHOP MOORE. 321
and delirium, he was patient, affectionate, unselfish. The
qualities of the man of God, had with him been wrought
into habits of holiness and love that preserved the beautiful
consistency of his character, even when reason had for-
saken her throne. Although in common with his whole
Diocese, I had previously felt for him affectionate venera-
tion, yet never did 1 love and honour him as when he lay
sick in my house. And though I lamented that his family
should have been so far from him, I considered it a privilege
that I should be permitted to witness the last days of such
a man. My prayer was and is, sit anima mea cum illo.
Thomas Atkinson.
Lynchburgh, March 30th, 1842.
The circumstances attending his death — taken as he
was from the very field of conflict with the powers of dark-
ness, where he had so successfully wielded the " two edged
sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God," may serve
to remind one of the following beautiful effusion from Mont-
gomery's gifted pen.
" ' Servant of God ! well done,
Rest from thy loved employ ;
The battle fought, the victory won,
Enter thy Master's joy.'
— The voice at miilnight came ;
He started up to hear :
A mortal arrow pierced his frame,
He fell — but felt no fear.
" Tranquil amidst alarms,
It found him in the field,
A veteran slumbering on his arms,
Beneath his red-cross shield:
c
ME3I0IR OF THE
His sword was in his hand,
Still warm with recent fight,
Ready that moment, at command,
Through rock and steel to smite.
" It was a two-edged blade.
Of heavenly temper keen ;
And double were the wounds it made,
Where'er it smote between :
'Twas death to sin ; — 'twas life
To all that mourn'd for sin ;
It kindled and it silenced strife,
Made war and peace within.
" Oft with its fiery force,
His arm had quell'd the foe,
And laid, resistless in its course,
The alien armies low :
Bent on such glorious toils,
The world to him was loss ;
Yet all his trophies, all his spoils,
He hung upon the cross.
" At midnight came the cry,
' To meet thy God prepare !'
He woke, and caught his Captain's eye;
Then, strong in faith and prayer,
His spirit, with a bound,
Bursts its encumbering clay :
His tent, at sunrise, on the ground,
A darken'd ruin lav.
LIFE OF BISHOP MOORE. 323
" The pains of death are past,
Labor and sorrow cease,
And, life's long warfare closed at last,
His soul is found in peace.
Soldier of Christ ! well done ;
Praise be thy new employ ;
And, while eternal ages run,
Rest in thy Saviour's joy."
The tidings of his decease, as they were rapidly carried
through the country, awakened deep and powerful emotion:
for none had been nnore generally known, or more univer-
sally beloved. His death was felt not only as a calamity
to the Church whose highest order he adorned, but as a
loss to the Christian world. Meetings of the clergy and of
the vestries of the Churches were held extensively, to adopt
the customary resolutions of respect for his memory, and
regret at his removal. And not only within, but without
his Diocese, many pulpits and altars were clothed in the
drapery of mourning. His remains, as we have before
stated, were carried to Richmond, and there committed to
their final resting place amidst the tears of his bereaved
family and flock, and the heart-felt sympathy of the entire
community. The vestry of his parish have caused to be
erected over his grave a costly and beautiful
MONUMENT TO BISHOP MOORE.
The base of this monument consists of a piece of granite,
on which is placed a block of marble chiselled into the
shape of an antique sarcophagus, from the centre of which
arises a pyramid, the whole attaining the height of sixteen
or seventeen feet. On the eastern side of the sarcophagus
is to be found this inscription:
324 MEMOIR OF THE
" RICHARD CHANNING MOORE, D. D.
WAS BORN IV THE CITY OF NeW YoRK,
August 2\st, 1762."
" He laboured faithfully and successfully in
the ministry of the
Protestant Episcopal Church 54 years."
" He was rector of the Monumental Church
in Richmond,
And Bishop of the Diocese of Virginia,
27 years."
"In the Convention that called him to the
Episcopate,
There were only 7 members."
" At the time of his death there were 95
clergy in the diocese of Va."
" He died in Lynchburg, Virginia,
Nov. 11th, 1841,
At the age of 79."
On the opposite side is an inscription commemorative of
Mrs. Moore. At the base of the pyramid, on the east side,
is sculptured in bas-relief a cross, over a portion of which
some drapery is hung, and on the opposite side an altar; on
the northern side there is a representation of a Bible with
the following inscription engraved thereon :
"Daniel, Chap. XII."
"They that be wise shall shine as the brightness
of the
firmament, and they that turn many to
righteousness
as the stars for ever and ever."
And on the opposite side a Prayer-book is represented
with this inscription :
"In the midst of life, we are in death."
LIFE OF BISHOP MOOKE. 325
The character of Bishop Moore, in its leading features
and most prominent traits, has been so fully developed in
the preceding biographical sketch, that the writer deems
it unnecessary to prepare a distinct and elaborate analysis
of it, as a finish of the grateful task which is now drawing
to a close. Yet is he unwilling to take leave of his subject
without a brief glance at the character of his venerated
friend as a man — a preacher — and a bishop.
To a sound and well-balanced intellect, cultivated by a
liberal education and an extensive knowledge of the world,
he added such an amount of human learning as qualified
him for the most acceptable and efiicient performance of
his professional duty. In him all the amiable feelings, kind
sentiments, and tender charitiesof our nature were sweetly
blended : and being baptized with the spirit of the Gospel,
and sanctified by the graces of devotion, rendered him
a most lovely example of an afTectionate and cheerful
Christianity. Even to the last, though bending under the in-
firmity of years, his cheerfulness never forsook him, and he
was the life of every family circle in which he was domi-
ciliated, though but for a season. His was a character,
which, while it inspired the reverence, awakened the love
of childhood ; — while it commanded the respect, won the
confidence of manhood ; — and, while it awed the vicious,
silently recommended to them the gospel he professed.
As a Preacher, he was decidedly and thoroughly evan-
gelical in his doctrines; tender, aflfectionate, and fervent in
his spirit ; clear, nervous, and perspicuous in his style ; in
his manner, eloquent and graceful, and pathetic to a fault.
His orthodoxy was not like the brightness of a wintry
night — clear but cold. "He never dealt in the false com-
merce of a truth unfelt." He stood in the sacred desk
under a full sense of the awful responsibilities of his high
cc2
326 MEMOIR OF THE
commission : and, as an ambassador of Christ, breathing
the spirit of the Master, as he wept over Jerusalem — with
earnest, affectionate importunity exhorted men to be re-
conciled to God. He would have answered well for the
original of the poet's sketch.
"Much impressed
flimself, as conscious of his awful charge,
And anxious mainly that the flock he feeds
May feel it too ; affectionate in look
And tender in address, as well becomes
A messenger of grace to guilty men."
" By him the violated law speaks out
Its thunders; and by him in strains as sweet
As angels use, the gospel whispers peace.
He stablishes the strong, restores the weak.
Reclaims the wand'rer, binds the broken heart;
And arm'd himself, in panoply complete
Of heavenly temper, furnishes with arms
Bright as his own, and trains by every rule
Of holy discipline, to glorious war.
The sacramental host of God's elect !"
As a Bishop in the Church of God, while he was tirm in
the maintenance of her principles, — watchful against the
admission of unworthy men to her ministry, and faithful in
the exercise of her discipline, he was the farthest possible
from a disposition to exercise arbitrary power, or " lord it
over God's heritage." His pastoral crook was swayed most
gently, and the Father predominated over the Judge. " He
was so merciful as not to be too remiss, and so administered
discipline that he forgot not mercy." By his kindness and
love, by his fidelity and zeal, in the discharge of the high-
est ministry in the Church, he won the atrections of the
clergy and the coufulence of the laity, and none could
LIFE OF BISHOP MOORE. 327
question the claim of such a Bishop to the venerable title
of " Right Reverend Father in God."
Throughout the whole course of his Episcopate he was
faithful and abundant in his apostolical labours, and in the
work of his parochial ministry. He had such love for pro-
fessional duty, that it might properly be said " it was his
meat and drink" to do his Master's viill. He had num-
bered the years of more than half a century when he en-
tered his diocese, and performed an amount of duty far
greater than could be reasonably expected from one of his
advanced age. In the duties of his station he persevered
until the last week of his life ; and was engaged in them,
at a distance from his children, his parish, and his home —
with his fourscore years nearly completed — when, full of
peace and of honours, he was summoned to his everlasting
rest.
We shall see his face on earth no more. Nothing of
him is left to us but the remembrance of his virtues and
the enduring fruits of his ministry. The Church may well
mourn the loss of his example, his instructions and his
prayers. But our comfort is, that the Lord and Head of
the Church liveth ever. We rely upon the promises he
has made to her, " [ will never leave thee nor forsake
thee:" " Lo ! I am with you always, even unto the end
of the world." The tried character of the present Bishop
of Virginia, and the well-known talents and piety of the
" brother faithful and beloved," who has been elected to
assist him in his arduous work, afford a pleasing assurance
that the principles and policy of Bishop Moore will still be
maintained in the important diocese which was so long
favoured with his Episcopal supervision.
We may be tempted to despond as we dwell upon the
mournful inquiry, " our fathers, where are they ? and the
328 MEJIOIR OF THE LIFE OF BISHOP MOORE.
prophets, do they live forever ?" But we may be cheered
by the persuasion that their spirit will animate their succes-
sors. As our venerable Fathers are removed, one after
another, we are comforted by the assured hope that they
have left behind them, in our Episcopate, sons who will
prove themselves worthy of such sires. Men who will keep
the banner of the cross ever waving in front of the host.
Who, first in every post of duty and of danger, will boldly
follow the Captain of our Salvation, and encourage his sol-
diers to press onward from conquering to conquer, till he
shall appear again on earth, to claim his rightful inheri-
tance, and sway the sceptre of peace and holiness over a
ransomed and regenerated world.
SERMONS.
SERMON I.
" The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want. He maketh me to lie
down in green pastures ; he leadeth me beside the still waters ; he restoreth
my soul; he leadeth me in the paths of righteousness, for his name's sake.
Yea, though I walk through the valley and shadow of death, I will fear
no evil : for thou art with me, thy rod and thy staff, they comfort me."
—23d Psalm, 1st, 2nd, 3d, and 4th verses.
The more that we study the sacred volume of inspiration,
the more do we become convinced of the superintending
goodness of God, and of that peculiar affection he has ex-
pressed for the intelligent production of his hand.
Experience assures us, that human life abounds with
difficulties; that we are the heirs of sorrow and of pain;
and that " man is born to trouble, as the sparks fly up-
wards." To calm that sea of distress in which we are
involved, Revelation exhibits to our view the most en-
couraging prospect beyond the grave. It directs the at-
tention of the Christian to a city of refuge — to a haven
infested with no storms — to a seat of happiness, in which
sorrow and sighing find no admission — where every tear
will be wiped from the mourner's eye; and joys the most
sublimated and refined be our portion forever.
Though heaven, and the heaven of heavens, cannot con-
tain the great Omnipotent, still we find in his word that he
dwells in a sincere and contrite heart ; and manifests him-
self to his followers, as a father and a friend — " For to this
man will I look, says the Almighty; to him who is of an
humble and contrite spirit, and who trembleth at my word.'
That comfortable manifestation of the Divine goodness
332 SEEMOXS.
of which I am speaking, cannot be experienced by us until
we make a surrender of ourselves to the Almighty, and
follow Jesus in the way — for the same unerring word which
proclaims pardon and peace to the penitent, contains the
most solemn declarations of the divine disapprobation to
the incorrigible offender. The moment, however, that, in
obedience to the command of God, we repent of our sins,
believe in the Lord Jesus Christ, and make his precepts the
rule of our life, that moment we obtain a claim to the pro-
mise of divine mercy. The right of the sincere Christian
to the support and protection of Heaven, is as legitimate as
the claim of a dutiful child to the alTection of an indulgent
parent. Indeed, the confidence of the believer is founded
upon a surer basis; parents may forget their children — "a
mother may forget her sucking child, yet will T never," saith
the eternal God to the Christian, I will " never forget
thee."
It is not trouble which need to excite in the mind of a
sincere believer the least disquietude. It is not distress
which should awaken in his bosom a suspicion of divine
goodness. They are evidences of that regard which the
Almighty exercises over him — " for the Lord chasteneth
whom he loveth, and scourgeth every son whom he re-
ceiveth."
Death itself, that king of terrors to the presumptuous
sinner, need not intimidate the humble follower of Christ.
He is divested of his sting by the triumphant Redeemer;
and comes not to alarm, but to animate the Christian. He
brings the faithful a release from sorrow and pain ; he
breaks the tie which attaches him to the present life, and
sets the soul, which is panting after God, at perfect liberty.
He emancipates the Christian from the thraldom of every
affliction; his spirit, disencumbered from the flesh, and
rising in another hemisphere, flames in the forehead of a
more resplendent sky. That this is the truth, and that
such are the high privileges of the believer, is fully declared
in the subject before us. The Psalmist did not draw his
conclusion from premises insufficient to support the fabric
SEBMONS. 333
of his hopes ; but as a man of reason and reflection, he leads
us to that basis, upon which he erected the superstructure
of his dependence. He shows us the connexion of the be-
liever to his God. He expresses that benevolent tie by
which the Lord Jesus is connected to the believer ; and
then, in language calculated to warm the heart and invigo-
rate the hopes of the faithful, relates those comforts flow-
ing from so affectionate and firm an union: — "The Lord
is my shepherd, I shall not want."
The metaphor with which David introduces the decla-
ration of his hopes is very affecting, calculated to produce
in the mind of the Christian the utmost confidence — a con-
fidence which will sustain him in all the exigencies peculiar
to his pilgrimage. The early avocation of the Psalmist
was that of a shepherd. " He chose David, his servant,
and took him from the sheep-folds, from following the ewes
great with young. He brought him to feed Jacob, his
people, and Israel his inheritance; so he fed them accord-
ing to the integrity of his heart, and guided them by the
skilfulness of his hands."
The tender solicitude with which David guarded that
flock committed to his charge, and the watchfulness and
resolution with which he defended his sheep, convey to our
minds the opinion he entertained of (he goodness of God,
and the disposition of the Almighty to rescue those who
trust in him from every evil.
In defence of one of those sheep, which it was his duty to
guard and defend, David risked his life. Of this evidence
of his fidelity, he informed Saul, prior to his combat with
Goliah, and advanced it as a reason for his despising the
threats of that uncircumcised Philistine. "Thy servant,"
said the stripling to Saul, " kept his father's sheep ; and
there came a lion and a bear, and took a lamb out of the
flock; and I went out after him, and smote him, and de-
livered it out of his mouth ; and when he arose against me,
I caught him by his beard, and smote him, and slew him."
When the Psalmist looked back, and recollected the
interest he had taken in the welfare of his fleecy charge;
D D
334 SERMONS.
the dangers he encountered in their behalf, and the fidelity
with which he watched over them, he considered it a suit-
able figure by which to express his ('cpendence on the
Almighty, and at the same time to illustrate that pastoral
care with which the Lord Jesus defends and protects those
who have taken refuge in his bosom.
The same relation, in which David stood to his father's
flock, the Redeemer is connected to his penitent people.
He is called the Shepherd of Israel, and in order to keep
his flock in security, he neither slumbers nor sleeps: but
surrounds them with his presence, and feeds them in the
fertile fields of his grace.
To rescue them from the wild beasts of the forest, and
to pluck them from the destructive grasp of hell, the Saviour
encountered the most inexpressible distresses. He merci-
fully laid down his own life, to rescue them from the do-
minion of sin and death : and to open for them a way to the
mansions of eternal peace. Under his directing care, we
shall be secure from every danger: while we keep within
his enclosures, we shall be furnished with every thing
conducive to our present and future happiness. In pros-
perity we shall have the checks and guidance of his Spirit to
direct and restrain us. In advcrsit)% we shall have the
promises of the Gospel for our support ; " for he shall feed
me," says the Psalmist, "in a green pasture, and lead me
forth beside the waters of comfort."
The greatest luxuries of life, with which the wicked and
presumptuous sinner may be surrounded ; the greatest
dainties which can be procured to satisfy his wants, are
not productive of that satisfaction to him, which a sincere
Christian would derive from provision the most humble,
and bread the least refined.
The enjoyment of the epicure is momentary, and when
satiated and bloated, with the profusion in which he has
indulged, his reflections are painful and humiliating. He
finds to his cost, that dissipation and excess are not only
productive of diseases of his body, but that the powers of
his mind lose their elasticity and strength. He perceives
SER3I0NS. 335
that in looking for real gratification in such a course, he
has been pursuing a phantom, feeding in a pasture
abounding with the most pernicious weeds ; a pasture not
only barren of comfort, but like the fig tree mentioned in
the Gospel, accursed of God. But the sincere and humble
follower of Christ : the man whose treasure is in heaven,
and who is seeking a better country, finds a green pasture
in any situation, in which God may be pleased to place
him. His submission to divine Providence ; his confi-
dence in the goodness of the Almighty, render his pros-
pects clear and his spirit happy, " for a small thing that
the righteous hath, is better than great riches of the un-
godly." Psalm xxxvii. 15. " Better is little vvith the fear of
the Lord, than great treasures and trouble therewith."
Prov. XV. 10.
It is in the enjoyment of religion, that the mind of the
believer finds comfort and delight. In the sacred oracles
of God, that glorious deposit of celestial truth, he reads
what is more valuable to him than a thousand worlds — he
reads his title to eternal felicity : and in the ordinances and
precepts of his Redeemer, he finds a pasture never parched,
and never dry ; and while the careless sinner goes empty
from the field of the gospel, he finds comforts and pleasures,
which the world can neither give nor take away. Instead
of negligently passing through the pastures, thus provided
for his support, he lies down in them. This is my rest, he ex-
claims, here will I feed, and here will I dwell, for I have a
delight therein. " Whom have I in heaven but thee ? and
there is none upon earth I desire, in comparison of thee."
The Church, that enclosure of the Redeemer, not only
abounds with luxuriant and ever verdant pasture, but there
are also the waters of comfort, to cheer and to refresh the
mind of the believer. In proportion as he becomes ac-
quainted with the love and compassion of God, the more he
loves and reverences him : and the more are his spiritual
desires invigorated and increased.
That person who would say that his mind is satiated with
the enjoyments of religion, or satisfied with the progress he
336 SERMONS.
has made in the divine Ufe, is impressed with an imperfect
view of Christianity. For the pastures of grace, and the
refreshing waters of Zion, not only comfort the behever in
his course, but increase his incHnation to partake of large
and continual supplies. Such was the experience of St.
Paul, "forgetting those things which are behind, and reach-
ing forth to those things which are before, I press toward
the mark, for the prize of the high calling of God in Christ
Jesus." Indeed the Christian's pantings after glory cannot
be expressed in language sufficiently strong and pointed.
The Psalmist has nobly attempted it ; but notwithstanding
the sublimity and strength of the figure he used, it falls
short of the feelings of his soul : "As the hart panteth after
the water brooks, so longeth my soul after thee, oh God.
My soul isathirst for God, yea, even for the living God ! Oh
when, when shall I come to appear in the presence of God ?"
An experimental knowledge of religion in its operations on
the mind, and its influences on the life, " is more to be
desired than gold, yea, than much fine gold — sweeter also
than honey and the honey comb."
In the season of trouble and distress, when with all their
united influence, they conspire to check the hopes, and to
depress the mind of the believer — the still waters of God's
Spirit — the consolations of the Gospel — the reviving view
of that rest, which remaineth for the people of God, afford
him a cordial draught which supports him under trouble —
changes the dreary wilderness of adversity into a well cul-
tivated field ; and converts the desert of his woes into a
paradise of joy. He receives his afflictions as the wise dis-
pensation of an unerring Jehovah. He considers his dis-
tresses as a medicine prepared by his Almighty Physician
to refine him from his dross, and to fit him for the skies:
looking down from the elevated height upon which he
stands, he considers terrestrial objects as of a secondary
importance, and with Ilabbakkuk he triumphantly exclaims:
"Although the fig tree shall not blossom, neither shall fruit
be in the vine, though the labour of the olive shall fail, and
SERMONS. 337
there shall be no herd in the stalls; yet I will rejoice in the
Lord ; I will joy in the God of my salvation."
The same Shepherd who provides those green pastures
and waters of comfort, for the support of the believer, is
represented in the text as mercifully disposed to restore
those of his sheep, who through the force of sudden tempta-
tion may turn aside from that way, in which he was con-
ducting them; for, "he restoreth or converteth my soul,
and leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for his name's
sake."
The forbearing mercy of God is an attribute, which
claims our unceasing gratitude : for if the Lord was to with-
draw forever from our view, in consequence of inadvertent
transgression, it is impossible that we could be saved; " for
there is no man who liveth and sinneth not."
When the Psalmist reflected upon this important princi-
ple, and considered the infirmities of our nature, he thus
expressed the emotions of his mind, — " If thou, Lord, shouldst
mark iniquity — Lord, who shall stand ?" Not that he
supposed it possible for a wilful, habitual, and impenitent
sinner to enter into rest. (This was not the species of ini-
quity to which he alluded,) for as those transgressions which
are the result of deliberate reflection, constitute pre-
sumptuous sins, nothing short of the deepest repentance
can reconcile the offender to the favor of God. But as
man is subject through weakness — through the eflfects of
sudden temptation, and the neglect of his religious duties, to
err and to stray like a lost sheep, — he represents the
Shepherd of Israel as the watchful guardian of our souls —
arousing us from the deadly sleep of sin, alarming our con-
sciences, convincing our minds by the awakening influen-
ces of his Spirit, of our errors and our danger, exciting in
our bosoms a repentance, which needeth not to be repented
of, and leading us from the paths of sin, into the ways of
righteousness.
This part of our subject forms a principle, with which
David was well acquainted, for you find him declaring in
the 119th Psalm, "I have gone astray like a lost sheep;
dd2
338 SERMONS.
seek thy servant." That he did stray — that God did abso-
lutely seek him — that he hstened to the voice of his
Shepherd and returned to the fold he had deserted, is a
truth which he humbly acknowledges ; for in the language
of gratitude he declares, that God had converted and re-
stored his soul. He was a Lamb, which had taken refuge
in the fold of Christ ; and when Satan, like a roaring lion,
broke within the sacred enclosure, and separated him from
the protecting care of the Shepherd, the Lord Jesus
smote the detested monster. He awakened the mind of
David to a sense of his awful wanderings, and rescued him
from the destructive grasp of the destroyer. Animated
with gratitude, and humbled in the dust at the recollection
of his perverseness, he confessed his transgressions, and
sought an asylum in the bosom of his ofTended Maker. " I
have sinned," said he, "against the Lord ;" and the messen-
ger of mercy declared, " The Lord hath put away thy sin. "
Conducted thus in safety through life — impressed with the
fullest confidence in the affection and superintendence of
heaven, he declared his willingness to trust that Being in
his last conflict with the king of terrors, who had preserved
him during his pilgrimage ; and concludes the triumphant
declaration of his unshaken reliance on God, in these an-
gelic strains: " Yea, though I walk through the valley and
shadow of death, I will fear no evil : for thou art with me,
thy rod and thy staffcomfort me."
It is a serious, solemn truth that we are mortal creatures.
The departure of our friends, our neighbours, our connexions
into eternity, proclaim our mortality. Dust we are, and
unto dust we must return. We may say to the grave, thou
art our mother ; and to the worm, thou art my sister and
my brother. The tomb, however dark and gloomy, will
very soon receive our frail bodies; for yet a little while, and
the summons of the great Omnipotent will be communicated
to us all.
These truths the serious Christian frequently realizes.
He calls to mind in his retired moments that solemn period,
when he and all terrestrial things will part forever, when
SERMONS. » 339
the curtain of human life will drop, when the scene of his
temporal existence will be closed ; and that eternal day
commence, which to the believer will know of no night.
But thanks be to God, the consideration of death, however
gloomy to the eye of flesh, is through the medium of the
Gospel divested of all its horrors. From the mount of
Christianity, he sees beyond the stream of Jordan, the city
of his God; that city, in which " there is no need of sun nor
of the moon to shine in it : for the glory of God lightens it,
and the Lamb is the light thereof." The oracles of religion
strengthen and confirm his hopes. As the fellow traveller of
St. Paul, he exclaims in triumph, " Who shall separate
me from the love of God ? I am persuaded that neither
life, nor death, nor men, nor angels, nor all the princi-
palities and powers of darkness, shall be able to separate
me from the love of God, which is in Christ Jesus our Lord."
" Oh, death, thou hast lost thy sting ! Oh, grave, where is
thy victory ?"
Encouraged by the views of those who have passed into
eternity before him, he descends into the grave with Chris-
tian confidence, and sees inscribed upon its portal, "the pil-
grim's path to glory." He perceives that it is spoken of by
the Psalmist as the valley and shadow of death ; and, as
the shadow of a serpent cannot sting — nor the shadow of
a sword inflict a wound, his apprehensions vanish ; and his
soul swells with transpoit and with joy. It is the call of
an affectionate father, and he obeys that call with resigna-
tion. It is the summons of the best of parents — what then
should alarm or disquiet the mind of an obedient child ?
Does a tender babe dread the approaches of an indulgent
mother? Are its fears excited when its ear is saluted
with her maternal voice ? As little reason, I am perfectly
convinced, has the Christian to be alarmed at his approach-
ing interview with a God of mercy and compassion.
These ideas may, by the world, be considered as the
sportings of an enthusiastic mind ; but may 1 not appeal to
the observation of some of this auditory for the propriety
and truth of my remarks ? Have you not seen your friends
340 # SERMONS.
calm as a summer's sea, when arrived at the close of their
lives? Have you not heard them express their resignation
to the will of God, and their willingness to depart ? Yes,
with the Psalmist, they have looked back and recognized
the hand of the Almighty in the different periods of their
existence ; they have traced in recollection his protecting
goodness, through all the changing scenes through which
they have passed, and, with minds full of expectation, they
have said, " Though J walk through the valley and sha-
dow of death, I will fear no evil, for thou, my God, art with
me, thy rod and thy staff, they comfort me."
To conclude. The comforts of religion, as I have pre-
sented them lo your view, cannot fail of exciting in your
minds a wish to realize them. If you desire to claim them
as your own, you must enter into the service of God, and
obey the peaceful injunctions of the Almighty. If you
wish to feed in the green pastures of divine grace, and to
lie down beside the still waters of comfort, you must enter
into the fold of the Lord Jesus, and learn of him who was
meek and lowly in heart. l( you desire to pass through
the valley and shadow of death in triumph, and to reach
the mansions of seraphic bliss; if you wish to die the
death of the righteous ; you must live holy and righteous
lives.
It is in vain to expect the enjoyment of religion unless
you live in close communion with your Maker. The
Christian cannot indulge in the sinful and thoughtless pur-
suits of the world, and, at the same time, keep his lamp
burning in his iiand. The celestial fire which warms his
bosom will lose its lustre, and be at length quenched in the
pestilential vapour of carnal pleasures. " Draw nigh to
God, and God will draw nigh to you," — " Cease to do evil
and learn to do well; and though your sins are like scarlet
they shall be as white as snow — though red like crimson
they shall be as wool."
It is supposed, by those who are strangers to the subject,
that religion is productive of gloom ; and that the pleasures
of the world can alone constitute man happy. I would
SERMONS. 341
appeal at this moment to those whose minds are most ab-
sorbed in the pursuit of temporal gratification, and to those
who pass from one amusement to another in search of en-
joyment. I would appeal to them, and ask an honest an-
swer to the following questions. Have the pleasures of
the world afforded you that happiness which fancy pre-
sented to your view, and which you promised yourselves
from an indulgence in them ? Have you not found inscrib-
ed upon the walls of those apartments in which revelry
and dissipation hold their empire — vanity and vexation of
spirit ? Have you not often returned home, not only disap-
pointed but disgusted with yourselves at the waste of time
in which you have indulged — the frippery and nonsense
with which you have been surrounded ? Has not conscience
benevolently told you, you were wrong? Has it not re-
monstrated and plead with you to change your course 1 Lis-
ten, then, I beseech you, to the pleadings of that faithful
monitor. "Seek the Lord while he maybe found." "I
pray you in Christ's stead, be ye reconciled to God." De-
lay it not one moment longer — " to-day, if ye will hear his
voice, harden not your hearts;" " for now is the accepted
time, this is the day of salvation,"
SERMON II.
"Jesus answering, said, Were there not ten cleansed ? but where are
the nine ? There are not found, that returned to give glory to God, save
this stranger." — St. Lukk xvii. 17, 18.
That man is a sinner, guilty of ingratitude to his Maker,
every individual conversant with human nature must ac-
knowledge. It forms a principle that admits of no contra-
diction, a principle proven by daily experience.
If the reception of benefits, of which we are undeserv-
ing, always excited our gratitude to God, there w^ould
not be in existence a single transgressor ; because there is
no man who does not stand indebted to heaven for mercies
received. But we find, from multiplied observation, that the
goodness of God, instead of attaching man to his Creator,
and exciting in his mind a sense of his dependence upon
heaven, too frequently renders himself-confident, and gives
rise to practices, at variance with every principle of duty
and obedience.
That this is the case, will appear evident by taking into
view the conduct of men in general. Is the possession of
riches always productive of a life-devotedness to God ? Are
the dwellings of men of wealth always found to be the
seat of piety and religion ? Is it there that the voice of
prayer and praise is most frequently heard ? Does the
health that we enjoy produce that return of gratitude to
the Almighty, which the blessing so richly merits ? Is it
productive of that animated devotion, which we might rea-
SEHMONS. 343
sonably expect? On the contrary, is it not in the hour of
distress that man is most disposed to bow at the throne of
Jehovah, and to invoke the mercy and favour of his God ?
Yes, brethren, and we often find that the moment the cloud
of affliction is removed, and man is relieved from the pres-
sure of calamity, he relapses into sin, his bosom becomes
inflated with pride, and he tramples upon the goodness of
his Almighty Deliverer.
The history connected with the text is a confirmation of
the sentiments just expressed. Let the advocates of the
dignity of human nature read it, and be astonished ! It
affords us a specimen of the depravity of man which no
sophistry can explain away. It stamps the character of
ingratitude upon the human race, and, were angels the
spectators of the scene, they must have blushed at the vile-
ness of mortals, and been amazed at the extent of that
mercy which spared the guilty wretches from immediate
destruction. Jesus had relieved ten lepers from a loath-
some and infectious disease : nine of them proved insensible
to his goodness, and in one only was a disposition of grati-
tude manifested. The view was too affecting to escape
the observation of the Redeemer. " Were there not ten
cleansed," said the Emmanuel, " but where are the nine ?
there are not found to give glory to God, save this stran-
ger." In the explanation of our subject we will consider,
First, the circumstances connected with the history. Se-
condly, take into view the particular features of the text :
and then conclude with an application.
First. We will consider the circumstances connected
with the history. The leprosy was a disease, brethren, of
the most afflicting description. It was viewed as a peculiar
evidence of divine displeasure. It was a reproach to the
unhappy individual who laboured under its influence ;
separated him from his business; cut him off from all
conversation with his friends and nearest relatives; shut
him out from the privileges of the sanctuary, and condemned
him to banishment until his cure was effected.
Were he at any time to see others approaching him, he
344 SERMOKS.
was obliged to sound an alarm, and to proclaim the evil
under which he laboured, by crying out, unclean ! unclean!
It was' this disease with which king Uzziah was seized, for
invading the priest's office, and presuming to burn incense
upon the altar, in the temple of the Lord. Though a
sovereign, he was secluded from all society; exchanged his
throne and the splendours attached to it for a servile-house,
and died with the complaint.
Thus distressed, and separated from all society, were the
lepers mentioned in the text, when Jesus, the precious Jesus,
passed by. By the precepts of the Levitical law, they were
enjoined to stand afar off; but as they had heard of those
evidences of power manifested by the Redeemer, and were
apprised of his disposition to listen to the plaintive entrea-
ties of the distressed, they united their voices in supplica-
ting his aid : " Jesus, master ! have mercy upon us !" A
sense of their need made them importunate in their re-
quests. It was an auspicious moment, and they were de-
termined to improve it. The physician who possessed the
ability to relieve them was at hand — the benevolent Sa-
viour was passing by ; and his character inspired them
with contidence. They therefore lifted up their voices,
and implored help : " Jesus, master, have mercy upon us !"
It is a consolatory truth, that in every application to
Jesus for relief, the sufferers were always heard. The
petition, the united petition of these distressed lepers, was,
therefore, benevolently considered. Their cry was such
as to pierce the heavens; the ear of the blessed Redeemer
was open to their wants, and their request was granted.
Upon viewing their situation, he immediately discovered
his disposition to help them : " Go," said he, " and show
yourselves to the priests ! And it came to pass, as they went,
they were healed."
The ceremonial Law, it is to be remembei'ed, was at
that time in operation. The Saviour, therefore, in send-
ing them to the priests, provided for its observance — as to
them it exclusively belonged to judge of leprous cases. In
addition, also, to that respect which he paid to the rites of
SERMONS. 345
the Jewish Church, the Redeemer, perhaps, might have
taken into view the awakening effects which so sudden a
cure was calculated to have produced in the minds of the
priests themselves. Upon examining the afflicted lepers,
and discovering the perfect relief which they had received,
it was reasonable to presume, that their minds would have
been impressed with the greatest respect for the character
of the Saviour — that Being at whose luord the most in-
veterate diseases were removed, and sufferings the most
afflictive brought to an immediate termination. It also
served as a trial of the obedience of the lepers. The Sa-
viour could have healed them at the moment, but in order
to try their faith, he enjoined them to " go to the priests,"
attend upon the instituted means; and though they will
not heal of themselves, God will render them efficient; he
will bless his own appointments, and will heal you in their
diligent use. In obedience to the commands of the Re-
deemer, they went in pursuit of those to whom they were
directed to apply; and " it came to pass, as they went, they
were cleansed." The power of the Lord Jesus was exerted
in their behalf; the disease under which they laboured,
was effectually removed ; and they were restored to per-
fect health. If an occasion of gratitude was ever afforded
to men, the cure which the lepers had experienced, could
not be ranked among the least. Of the ten, however,
who had been relieved, the mind of one alone appears to
have been alive to the expression of thanksgiving; the nine
were insensible to the obligations they had experienced,
and mindful of their own comfort, forgot their benevolent
benefactor. One, however, returned to give glory to God ;
his heart overflowed with love ; he felt the warm glowings
of health pervade his frame, and burned with impatience
to acknowledge the mercy he had received. Behold him,
forcing his way into the presence of the Redeemer. See
him falling upon his face, at the feet of his great Physician,
and worshipping the God of his salvation. In his distress,
in a loud voice, a voice expressive of his misery, he had
implored relief; and when relieved from the pressure of
£ E
346 SERMONS.
his calamity, with the same voice, with the same vehe-
mence of expression, he acknowledged his obligations.
His declarations of gratitude were as fervent as had been
his prayers for mercy ; he glorified God, giving him thanks.
To afford you a fuller view of the beauties of the sub-
ject, we will, secondly, take into consideration the par-
ticular features of the text.
The ingratitude of the human heart exceeds the limits
of description. Of the truth of this observation, the nine
lepers furnish a conclusive testimony. It was reasonable
to suppose, that under the first impressions of returning
health, their hearts would have vibrated with a sense of
their obligations, and that they would have encountered a
thousand difficulties, in order to have made some acknow-
ledgment for the favours they had received. But, beloved,
before we are led to censure those ingrates with too much
severity, let us for a moment consider whether, in their
conduct, we do not discover a true representation of our-
selves. Have not we received mercies at the hand of
God, equal in importance to that with which they had
been favoured ? Cannot we call to recollection some mo-
ment in which we were labouring under the influence of
disease, involved in the extremest distress, when the lamp
of life was glimmering in the socket ; when we expected
the hour of our departaie was at hand, and that a few
moments or hours would launch us into eternity ? At that
solemn period, did not we entreat for a suspension of the
sentence of death; did not we supplicate for a continuance
of life, and with the lepers, cry aloud, " Jesus, master, have
mercy upon us ?" When we looked around us, at such
a solemn moment, and reflected upon the distressed situa-
tion in which our wives and children would have been
plunged by our removal, did not we sincerely pray for
our restoration to health, and promise that our future lives
should be devoted to the God of our salvation? Yes, be-
loved, such, precisely such, were our declarations at that
hour ! Yet how little have many of us thought of our
gracious benefactor from that time to the present I Our
SERMONS. 347
solemn resolutions have been obliterated from our minds
as our disease subsided. Like the ungrateful lepers, we
have been unmindful of the mercies of Jehovah; we have
forgotten that Being who arrested the malady under which
we laboured, and have not returned to give glory (o God.
In addition to those temporal mercies we have received,
how abundant is that provision which has been made for
the healing of our souls! Yes; when there was no eye to
to pity, and no arm to save; when destruction appeared to
be inevitable, the Son of God, the only begotten of the
Father, the Prince of Peace, vacated his throne, left the
realms of bliss, and suffered upon the cross, that man
might escape the condemnation of the law, and be rescued
from eternal ruin ! What returns of gratitude have we
made for this unbounded stretch of mercy? Here and
there, indeed, a solitary individual may be found who
preserves a consistency of conduct, and returns to give
glory to God. But where are the nine ? Where are the
mass of those who are pensioners upon the divine bounty;
who have been relieved in the hour of distress by thy
merciful compassion ? Where, gracious God ! where are
the creatures for whom Jesus died upon the cross, and shed
his precious blood? Where are those upon whom he so
often called in tenderness? Where are those who have
sworn allegiance to the Redeemer, and have once professed
themselves his followers? Where are the nine in the text?
They are unmindful of the agonies and sufferings of the
Saviour; they have turned their backs upon him whom
they once professed to love, and are now trampling under
foot that blood by which, notwithstanding their ingratitude,
they still hope to be saved.
To justify a neglect of sacred things, by adducing as a
plea the ungrateful conduct of the many, is to reason
against the convictions of our hearts and our understand-
ings. Who that will exercise his reason, does not approve
the conduct of Noah, who, in the midst of an adulterous
generation, boldly espoused the cause of truth; who dared
to be virtuous; who had the fortitude to obey his Maker,
348 SBR3I0NS.
amidst the frowns and contempt of surrounding thousands ?
Who does not commend, in accents of the loudest approba-
tion, the conduct of the leper, who, animated with grati-
tude, returned to give glory to God, and to worship that
Being who had favoured him with his love ? Yes ; when
we see him falling upon his face, and bowing to the earth,
at the feet of Jesus, our souls are enkindled with the fire of
devotion, and we exclaim in rapture, " Well done, thou
good and faithful servant;" angels also, who, from the
heights of bliss witness the scene, re-echo our cries, and
sing " Glory to God in the highest !"
It appears from a general view of the history of the
lepers mentioned in the text, that the nine who proved so
unmindful of the goodness of God were Jews — men in-
structed in the principles of religion, and acquainted with
the nature and attributes of the Deity: while the one whose
heart was impressed with gratitude for the favours he had
received, was a Samaritan, a stranger to the covenant of
promise, and shut out from every avenue of religious in-
formation.
Thus, brethren, we often perceive that the returns of
gratitude which we make to heaven, are by no means pro-
portioned to the knowledge which we possess, or to the
blessings we enjoy. Instead of improving our spiritual
advantages, and reflecting upon the world that light with
which we have been favoured, we are not found to give
that glory to God which might reasonably be expected.
A coldness of devotion too frequently marks our lives. If
we are not positively ashamed of the Gospel of Christ, we
feel but little interest in its cause; and those whose ad-
vantages are more circumscribed than our own, put, by
their actions, intelligent Christians to the blush. God un-
questionably expects that our returns of praise will bear a
due proportion to the blessings which we receive. Let
not the Samaritan, therefore — let not the individual, who
in a great measure may be ignorant of the attributes of
Deity, exceed the intelligent Christian in the closeness of
his walk with God; but let us take up the cross, and
SEKMONS. 349
" glorify God in our bodies, and our spirits, which are his."
To conclude. The success which attended the lepers, in
their application to the Saviour for assistance, convinces
us, not only of his ability, but also of his disposition to be-
friend us. His word, remember, is as effectual now, as
it was in the days of his flesh. No malady can be so
severe as to withstand the power of the Lord Jesus Christ.
A hospital of incurables can be relieved by him with as
much ease, as the distresses of an individual can be re-
moved. Ten applied to him at the same moment for
assistance, and they were instantly restored to perfect
health ; and if there had been ten thousand, the effect
would have been the same, for " he spake, and it was
done."
The diseases of the soul, also, however great, can be
cured by his sovereign word. The chief of sinners — the
most flagrant offender — the leprous transgressor, who is
wnthout the least soundness in him, by a cry to the Lord
Jesus for mercy, will obtain a full and perfect pardon.
Fly to him, therefore, while opportunity is afforded you —
" Jesus, master, have mercy upon us !"
Again. When the Saviour, in answer to your prayers,
has removed your distress, give glory to God, I beseech
you, by a life of obedience to his precepts. Should you
at any time, after the reception of his mercy, be led by
the world into any improper situation, or by accident
mingle with sinful company, let the inquiry of the Sa-
viour, " Where are the nine ?" arrest your attention,
and force you instantly from the place. Parley not with
transgression, but " Escape for your lives, lest ye be
consumed."
When engaged, Christians, in your duties, the Re-
deemer will behold you with complacency and delight;
and how pleasing will it be for you in those moments, when,
in condescending goodness, he inquires, '* W^here are the
nine?" instead of blushing at the inquiry, to be able to
answer : We are engaged, blessed Jesus, in conversing
upon that love which brought thee from above to secure
E E 2
850 SERMONS.
our salvation. We are employed, blessed Saviour, in sing-
ing thy praise ; we are kneeling at thy footstool around
the family altar, to implore a continuance of thy favour
and loving kindness, and entreating thee to assist us, in
training up our children in the knowledge and fear of
God. We are engaged in feeding the poor of thy flock —
in clothing the naked — in visiting the sick — in drying up
the widow's tears — and in assuaging the distresses of the
helpless orphan. That such may be the answer of our
hearts to the solemn inquiry, may God, of his mercy,
grant !
SERMON III.
" And Elijah came unto all the people, and said, How long halt ye be-
tween two opinions 1 If the Lord be God, follow him ; but if Baal, then
follow him." — 1 Kings, xviii. 21.
That remarkable display of divine power which attend-
ed the ministry of the Prophet Elijah is a conclusive evi-
dence of the love and mercy of God. It shows us that the
Almighty takes no pleasure in the death of a sinner. It
proclaims him long-sufTering, and abundant in goodness and
in love ; and constrains the reflecting believer to exclaim in
admiration, *' What could have been done more for his
vineyard than he hath done in it."
The ingratitude of the Jews, in deviating so repeatedly
from the commands of God, should impress our minds with
a due sense of the depravity of our nature. It should ex-
cite in our bosoms a spirit of vigilance and attention, lest,
through the effects of temptation, we should prove equally
unmindful of the mercy of heaven, and regardless of the
efforts of redeeming love. When, therefore, we feel a spirit
of indignation excited in our minds, by the wanderings of
the Israelites, let us be upon our guard: and " let him who
thinketh he standeth, take heed, lest he fall."
The particular mercies which the children of Israel ex-
perienced at the hands of their Creator, rendered their
backslidings and disobedience doubly criminal — " for to
whom much is given, of him will much be required."
They were rescued by the power of God, from the oppres-
sive yoke of Egyptian bondage, guarded by his particular
352 SERMONS.
providence, and conducted, as a nation, to a land produc-
tive of every earthly enjoyment.
During their journey through the wilderness, they were
succoured, and defended by a continual succession of
miracles, the common course of nature was changed, and
heaven in condescending goodness patronized their tribes.
When depressed by the effects of famine, and cut off from
every human supply, the windows of heaven were opened,
and bread and meat sent down to satisfy their wants from
the inexhaustible funds of benevolence and love. When
they, their wives and children, were fainting under the
oppressive influence of thirst, without the least prospect of
relief, the rock, at the command of the Almighty, threw
open its adamantine bosom, and presented them assistance
in copious streams of mercy. But no sooner did they taste
the heavenly waters; no sooner were the pangs of thirst re-
moved, and exhausted nature had recovered its diminished
strength, than they returned to their sins, and trampled the
goodness of God beneath their feet. When Pharaoh, the
Egyptia ntyrant, pursued them, although the Almighty
went before them in majestic greatness, leading them in
the way, in the pillar of a cloud, yet how did they mur-
mur and dispute his love ! " Is not this the word (said they
to Moses) that we did tell thee in Egypt, saying, let us alone,
that we may serve the Egyptians, for it had been better
for us to serve the Egyptians, than that we should die in
the wilderness?" still notwithstanding their ingratitude and
perverseness, the love of Jehovah was not restrained, mercy
in quick succession succeeded mercy. Moses was com-
manded to divide the sea; in obedience to the voice of God
he stretched forth his hand ! the astonished waters opened
on either side ! and afforded the despairing Israelites a de-
liverance from the hosts of Pharaoh. " The angel of God,
which went before the camp of Israel, changed his accus-
tomed station, and went behind them, and the pillar of the
cloud went from before their face, and stood behind them,
and they were led unhurt through the sea. The God of
Zion shielded them from the arrows of their enemy, and
SERMONS. 353
overwhelmed Pharaoh and his followers in the deep.
While the remembrance of this mighty and astonishing
deliverance was engraven upon their minds, they listened
to the impulse of duty and feared the Lord. During the
first impression of gratitude, and while the destruction of
Pharaoh's host was present to their view, they acknowl-
edged the goodness of the Almighty. "The Lord is my
strength and my song, and he is become my Salvation; he
is my God, and I will prepare him an habitation, my
fathers' God, and I will exalt him." But how soon did
their unbelief excite in their minds emotions of ingratitude •'
At the first appearance of distress they again disputed the
goodness of heaven, and murmured against the servant of
the Almighty. But it would be an endless attempt, to
trace all the backslidings of that infatuated people, from
their journeying in the wilderness, to the time of the Pro-
phet Elijah. From generation to generation, they were
stiff-necked and rebellious ; and instead of walking in the
statutes of the Lord, they worshipped carved images, and
bid defiance to the authority of the Ruler of the universe.
Under these circumstances were they found by the
Prophet in my text; who, jealous for the name of the Holy
One of Israel, reproved Ahab himself, and reproached the
tyrant for his impiety and wickedness. Conscious of the
majesty of that Being, whose glory the heaven of heavens
cannot contain; and certain of every distinguishing proof
of his superintending regard, he desired all Israel to
assemble on Mount Carmel, with their false Prophets, in
order that they might behold the power of Him, at whose
presence the earth trevihles, and the foundations of nature
are shaken ! -'And Elijah came unto all the people and
said, how long halt ye between two opinions? Tf the Lord be
God, follow him; but if Baal, then follow him. And the
people answered him, not a word. Then said Elijah unto
the people, I, even I, only remain a Prophet of the Lord;
but Baal's Prophets are four hundred and fifty men ; let
them therefore give us two bullocks, and let them choose
one bullock for themselves, and cut it in pieces, and lay it
354 SERMON'S.
on wood, and put no fire under it; and I will dress the other
bullock, and lay it on wood, and put no fire under it; and
call ye on the name of your gods, and I will call on the
name of the Lord, and the God that answereth by fire, let
him hz God. And all the people answered and said, It is
well spoken.''''
The prophets of Baal, therefore, prepared their bullock,
and called upon the object of their worship from morning
even unto noon, to evince his omnipotence. When Elijah
perceived their unsuccessful applications, he mocked them,
and said, " Cry aloud ! for he is a god, either he is talking,
or he is pursuing, or he is on a journey ; or peradventure
he i? sleeping, and must be awakened. And they cried
aloud, and leaped upon the altar which was made, cutting
themselves after their manner, with knives and lancets, till
the blood gushed out upon them." When therefore Elijah
perceived that there was neither voice nor ajiy to answer,
nor any that regarded, he desired the astonished idolaters
to come near him, in order to witness the majesty and
power of the God of Jacob. He prepared an altar and
dug a trench about it ; he laid the wood in order and cut
the bullock in pieces, and placed it on the wood, and com-
manded them to pour water over it, in order to remove
every suspicion from their minds, and to magnify the
name of the Lord. And at the time of the oflTering of
the evening sacrifice, the holy prophet came near, and,
in the presence of Israel, called upon the Almighty
to unveil himself in glory to the people, and to make
a discovery of his omnipotent power ! The moment,
it must be acknowledged, was truly important. Great
were the events that depended upon the issue of Eli-
jah's undertaking. He stood solitary and alone, as the
servant of God, in the midst of four hundred and fifty of
Baal's prophets; still, so great was his dependence upon
the Almighty, that his niind appears to have been free from
every apprehension; convinced that his prayer would as-
cend before the throne, and that the Ruler of the Universe
would bow the heavens, and come down at \\\?, fervent en-
SERMONS. 355
treaties. " Lord God of Abraham, Isaac, and Israel, let
it be known this day that thou art God in Israel, and that
I am thy servant. Hear me, O Lord, hear me, that
this people may know that thou art the Lord God, and that
thou hast turned their heart back again. At the voice of
his prayer the fire of the Lord descended, and consumed the
vfood, and the burnt sacrifice, the stones, and the dust, and
licked up the water that was in the trench. And when all
the people saw it, they fell on their faces, and said. The Lord
he is the God. The* Lord, he is the God !"
With what pious exultation must the breast of Elijah
have been filled when he beheld the completion of his hopes,
in the manifestation of the divine glory, and the conversion
of the people from idolatry ! With what peculiar fervour
might he have exclaimed, in the language of the Psa'lmist,
" clap you hands, all ye people, sing unto the Lord with
the voice of triumph, for the Lord Most High is terrible.
He is a great king over all the earth. Sing praises to God,
sing praises ! Sing ye praises with understanding."
If the Jews were bound in gratitude to God, for those
repeated displays of goodness and of power with which
they were favoured, the weight of our obligations, as
Christians, must be infinite ! For, in addition to the light
of their dispensation, we have been blessed with the supe-
rior illumination of the gospel of Christ. The Jewish
dispensation, when compared to the Christian, bears no
more similitude than the twinkling of a star to a bright
meridian su7i. If they, therefore, were culpable for the
neglect of those means of grace with which they were
visited, how deficient shall we be found, when weighed in
the balance of the sanctuary, unless we renounce the
works of darkness and put on the armour of light ! The
Almighty addressed them through the medium of the pro-
phets, but we are addressed by the gospel of his only be-
gotten Son ! We have his sublime precepts for our guide,
he pleads with us in the most endearing language, and
sheds his precious blood to rescue us from eternal destruc-
tion. Yes, brethren, for us and for our salvation, did he
356 SERMONS.
suffer upon the cross. He stept in between offended jus-
tice and the degenerate children of men, and averted the
wrath of God from a perishing world. " He was wounded
for our transgressions, he was bruised for our iniquities, the
chastisement of our peace was upon him, and by his stripes
we are healed." If the descent of tire from heaven, at
the prayer of Elijah, forced conviction upon the minds of
the idolatrous Jews, of what impressive etlects should the
pleadings of the blood of Jesus be productive ? If, under
the influence of gratitude and praise, they fell upon their
faces, crying out " the Lord, he is God, the Lord he is God,"
how should we, at the recollection of the Redeemer's good-
ness, at the cries of our beloved Jesus, when giving up the
ghost on Calvary, fall prostrate in devotion, and exclaim,
" My Lord, and my God !" But, notwithstanding the un-
speakable evidences of regard we have received at the
hands of the Almighty ; notwithstanding the pains and
agonies of the Saviour on the cross; notwithstanding the
miraculous displays of power which attended his crucifix-
ion ; notwithstanding all the pleadings of his affection,
many — many remain insensible to his goodness. Unim-
pressed with his benevolence and love, they can hear him
exclaiming in his agony in the garden, "Father, if it be
possible, remove this cup from me;" and continue ungrate-
ful to the God of their salvation. They can hear him on
the cross, crying out in accents of bitterness, *' My God,
my God ! why hast thou forsaken me ?" and be unmoved.
They can behold the rocks rending at the crucifixion of
the Redeemer, and be unconcerned. They can see liim
expire on the cross, combatting the powers of darkness in
their behalf, and pass by on the other side, in a state of the
most alarming and lethargic indlfFerence. Nay, they go
farther still. They are not only the unconcerned specta-
tors and witnesses of his dying love, but, so far does their
ingratitude extend, that the very blood he shed for their
salvation ihey trample under foot. Yes, my fellow mor-
tals, the love of Jesus is treated with too much indifference.
Many prefer the world to the cross of our all merciful Re-
SERMo:!^s. 357
deemer; from the fear of being thought enthusiastic,
many of the Christian family are forgetful of their obliga-
tions and remain cold and lifeless. They give up the
power of religion, and, from the fear of the world, like
Peter, follow Jesus afar off. If you should, for a moment,
think these observations unfounded, let us turn our eyes in-
ward, examine our own hearts, and let them decide whe-
ther the declarations I have made are correct or not. In
this investigation, beloved, your preacher will attend you
and confess himself guilty before God. Does not Baal fre-
quently tempt the Christian to relinquish the pursuit of
salvation, and to conform himself to the maxims of the
world? Are we not at times forgetful of the tender mer-
cies of a righteous God? Are not past providences
frequently disregarded? Those solemn voivs of obe-
dience, which, in the hour of distress we have made
at the footstool of heaven, are (hey not sometimes forgot-
ten ? With one hand we lay hold upon the horns of the
altar, and with the other we cleave to the world. We
profess a belief in Jesus and express a love for him with our
lips, yet cannot resolve to follow him in the path of diitv !
If, at times, the recollection of his goodness impresses our
hearts with gratitude, the next moment the world etfaces
his image from our souls, and we disobey him ! At one in-
stant we are on our knees before the throne of heaven,
lamenting our sins and crying for mercy, and the next, per-
haps, committing those sins we have just lamented ! These
things, my beloved, ought not so to be. Life and death
are set before us, blessing or cursing ! " How long halt we
between two opinions? If the Lord be God, let us, with an
undivided hes.vi,follow him; hnt if BaaP' — if the world is
the god which commands our attention — let us withdraw
our allegiance from the Saviour of sinners, for we cannot
serve God and Mammon — the spirit of Jesus can never
dwell in the same bosom with the spirit of Belial ; he is a
jealous God, and will allow no rival in our affections. " If
ye love me, keep my commandments," saith the Lord of
life and glory. " Not every one that saith unto me, Lord,
FF
3{j8 SERMONS.
Lord, shall enter into the kingdom of heaven ; but he that
doeth the will of my Father who is in heaven." Listen, I be-
seech you, to the declarations of that God, before whose aw-
ful tribunal a few days or hours may hurry us: " If any
man will come after me, let him deny himself, take up his
cross daily and follow me." Transient frames of devotion
will not answer the purposes of salvation; we must be " deter-
mined to know nothing but Jesus Christ and him crucified."
Let our exertions, my beloved hearers, in the discharge
of dull/, be equal to that ardour in which we engage in
the things of time, and the Almighty will be satisfied. We
can be engaged with all the powers of our minds in the
pursuits of life, but to be equally engaged in matters of re-
ligion would subject us to the charge of superstition. Hear
the pressing language of Scripture to the children of men :
" Thou shalt love the Lord thy God, with all thy heart,
with all thy mind, and with allthy strength.'' " My son,''
says the Almighty, " give me thy heart;" not the external
service of the lips, but the united devotion of the soul.
" Come out, then," from among the world, my Christian
brethren, and let us assume the ground which belongs to us.
In so doing God " will receive us ; he will be a father to us
and we shall be his sons and daughters." Think not that I
am misrepresenting the requisitions of the gospel — you h.ave
the Scriptures in your hands, and I am willing you should
try my expressions by that standard of truth- My busi-
ness, as a preacher of Jesus, is to deliver my Master's mes-
sage in the language of truth, without any of the false
colourings of human philosophy and vain deceit. '' Be ye
holy, says God, for I am holy." " Without holiness no man
shall see the Lord." If your minds are disposed to yield to
these truths, and if you feel weak and incapable of per-
forming these duties, fly upon the wings of prayer to a
throne of grace; strive mightily with God for that wisdom
which is from above, and he will shower down upon
you the riches of his blessed Spirit. Knock at the door of
mercy, and Jesus will open the gates of heaven and feed
you in the pastures of his grace ; for " those who wait upon
SERMONS. • 359
the Lord shall renew their strength." That same Jehovah
who sent down fire from heaven to consume the stones and
the dust of Elijah's altar, will send down his Spirit to purify
our hearts from every defilement. Delay not, therefore,
one moment. Listen to the pleadings of conscience and to
the voice of reason and religion, and enlist under the ban-
ner of Jesus, " For the Lord, he is the God ! the Lord, he
is the God."
SERMON IV
" Not willing that any should perish, but that all should come to repent-
ance." — 2 P^TEU, iii. 9.
The Almighty is represented in the sacred writings as a
Being merciful and gracious. He is revealed to mortals
as a God long-suffering and abundant in goodness and truth.
His benevolence, wc are informed, is as unbounded as his
power, and although we so often transgress his laws, and
trample upon his precepts, still mercy and compassion cha-
racterise his dealings with us, and distinguish him as a ten-
der and indulgent parent.
The prophets, influenced by the Spirit of God, proclaimed
to an apostate world the extent of the divine forgiveness :
" though your sins be as scarlet, they shall be white as
snow;" and the Apostles, animated by the same principle,
continued the benevolent theme, representing to the view
of fallen man a remedy for his spiritual diseases, both free
and efficacious. Those awful thunders, which made the
Israelites tremble at the foot of Mount Sinai, are restrained
and the voice of mercy from Mount Zion cheers the heart
of penitence, with its mellifluent strains of forgi^'eness. The
attribute of sovereignty is in a great measure concealed,
while that of pardon and remission of sin is displayed, and
periUcnt man is bidden to approach his maker with fllial
confidence. Angels sang, at the nativity of the Saviour,
" Peace on ear4h and good will towards men ;" and the
SERMONS. 361
blood of the Redeemer, as it flowed from his compassionate
bosom, addresses us in the same transporting language.
He calls upon us from Calvary in a voice of love — a voice
calculated to soflrn the hardest heart, and to awaken the
gratitude of every rational being. He extends the sceptre
of forgiveness to the penitent, and wears upon his breast
the inscription of the text, " Not willing Ihat any should
perish, but that all should come to repentance;" not one
exception ; the most flagrant offender will find a welcome
reception in his bosom, provided he will repent of sin, be-
lieve in his name, and amend his ways.
Man is represented in Scripture as a fallen creature, the
affections of whose mind are depraved, and whose life is
marked with the features of rebellion against God. It is
in this character that he is addressed ; and it is in con-
sequence of his sins that he is called upon to repent, pro-
vided he expects to be saved.
The Sacred Volume abounds with proof to this point ;
and it is impossible to read it with attention, without being
convinced of the fact. Thus, you perceive, the Prophets,
in one sweeping clause, comprehend the whole human
family as labouring under the disease. " All we, like
sheep, have gone astray." " The Lord looked down from
heaven upon the children of men, to see if there were any
that did understand and seek after God. They are all
gone aside ; they are altogether become filthy ; there is
none that doeth good, no ! not one."
When we test the truth of Scripture by what we know
of ourselves, and what we see around us, we must be con-
vinced that the representation is just; and that man is a
depraved, sinful creature. The sins which have marked
our lives; the opposition which we have made to the divine
law, and to the light of God's Spirit within us, form an un-
answerable argument in favour of the truth of revelation,
and of the natural depravity of man. The statutes or-
dained for the punishment of crime; the necessity of bind-
ing each other by written contract in our negociations; the
existence of prisons ; the locks we place upon our effects ;
ff2
362 SER5I0KS.
the duplicity with which we meet ; the creation of tribu-
nals of justice ; all prove that man is very far gone from
original righteousness; that he is not the creature he was
when Jehovah pronounced him good; that he does not at
this moment bear the image of a holy God.
This principle, which constitutes a part of that truth, a
knowledge of which we should study to obtain, notwith-
^tanding it is so fully insisted upon in the Sacred Volume,
is frequently questioned, in consequence of some remaining
traits of excellence in man, which have escaped the ruins
of the fall. Thus the same individual, who refuses to obey
the laws of God, and who will not be confined within the
limits of Gospel precepts, will display a benevolence of cha-
racter truly amiable. The sorrows of a fellow-creature
will find a passage to his heart, and melt him into tears.
The poverty of a suffering mortal will excite his compas-
sion, and draw from his purse the most liberal supplies. As
a husband, he will evince the greatest affection ; as a son,
he will be kind and respectful ; and as a parent, anxious
to advance the temporal interests of his family. These
virtues are certainly ornamental to our nature, and ad-
vantageous to societ}'. But when you see the same in-
dividual withholding his allegiance from God, which is his
paramount duty ; when you see him deaf to the calls of
religion; insensible of his obligations to his Saviour; the
violater of the Sabbath ; absent from the ordinances he is
commanded to attend; what conclusions can you draw
from such conduct, but that man, since the hour in which
he was first made and came pure and holy from the hands
of his Creator, has undergone a dismal change; that the
image of God, which was impressed upon his soul, is de-
faced; that he is now unholy and imperfect.
The ruins of those ancient cities of which we read, con-
tain at this moment some beauties, the relics of what
they were in the days of their prosperity. A pillar
may be found, retaining some of its original excellence, but
the pillar we perceive to be displaced and prostrate upon
he earth. Some fractured column, matinificent in its struc-
SERMONS. 363
ture, elegant in its decoration, meets the eye, and strikes
us with astonishment. These things, however, show us
that the original building, of which they formed a part,
has undergone a change, and been overthrown. These
fragments convince us that we see but the remains of what
they once were. They lead us back in imagination to the
period in which they came from the hands of the artist
perfect and complete, and satisfy us, that the edifice to
which they belonged has been laid waste by some destruc-
tive catastrophe. So the benevolence of man, his aflfection
for his family, when found buried in the rubbish of ingra-
titude to God, and a disregard to the precepts of religion,
proclaim to us that the attributes he once possessed, the
sublime character he held, when in a state of primeval
innocence, has been defaced, and that he forms the wreck
only of what he once was.
The Gospel contains the overtures of mercy, which God
has been pleased to make to a sinful world, K man will
acknov.'ledgc his transgressions, and solicit forgiveness, he
will be pardoned, and taken into favour. But if his mind
should rise in opposition to the principle; if he should re-
fuse to submit to those terms which the Almighty has pro-
posed, and instead of acknowledging his transgressions, at-
tempt his own justification, he places himself beyond the
reach of the offered remedy, and loses all claim to the
merits of the Saviour.
Jt was to obviate this difficulty, and to convince us that
we are sinners, that we are always spoken of in Scripture
as oflTenders against God. Man is viewed in no other light
from the beginning to the end of revelation, and as such
we are universally addressed.
This formed the basis of all the appeals which St. Paul
made to those to whom he ministered. No doubt there
were many individuals among those to whom the Apostle
preached, whose habits were moral, and whose characters,
in the eyes of the world, were truly amiable. Paul, how-
ever, being convinced that impurity of design, though that
design might not be carried into effect, was sinful in the
364
sight of God, and would subject the offender to punishment ;
Paul being sensible, that the only way in which to obtain
pardon, was earnestly to solicit it, made one and the same
appeal to all without exception, whether they were mem-
bers of the Church of Israel, or whether they were Gentiles:
he called upon them to repent and believe the record
which God hath given of his Son. " He testified both to
the Jews, and also to the Greeks, repentance towards God,
and faith in the Lord Jesus Christ."
In order to prove to us the imperfection of our best
works, and the impossibility of being justified by them,
St. Paul declares that he was blameless, as touching the
righteousness of the law ; that as far as the construction
put upon it by the Pharisees extended, so far had he ob-
served its precepts: notwithstanding which evidence of his
obedience, he fled to the cross as his only refuge, and trust-
ed to the atonement for his salvation. Looking back upon
his conformity to the law, he considered it a foundation too
unstable to rest his eternal hopes upon. Looking up to the
cross, and viewing the atonement as all-suflicient to secure
his future happiness, he thus expressed his confidence in
the Redeemer, his perfect reliance upon his merits: " I
count all things but loss, that I may win Christ, and be
found in him; not having on my own righteousness, which
is of the lnw,but that which is through the faith of Christ,
the righteousness which is of God by faith."
Paul was sensible that when he appeared in the pre-
sence of a holy God, his best actions would be found min-
gled with the dross of his corruption. Paul was sensible
that his most virtuous deeds had not always been devoid of
selfish and improper motives; that when inspected by the
eye of that Being who is perfect in holiness, they would
appear altogether deficient; when weighed in the balance
of the sanctuary, they would be found wanting — as light
as air, and altogether vanity. Conscious of these things,
he embraced the otfer of salvation in the Gospel ; he clung
to it as a drowning mariner to a plank, and fled to that Sa-
viour who is " unwilling that any should perish, but that all
SERMONS. 365
should come to repentance ;" to him " who will have all
men to be saved, and to come to the knowledge of the
truth."
When the Redeemer commissioned his Apostles to spread
the knowledge of the Gospel, and to make a communication
of his love to man, you perceive that love which was to
compose their joyful theme is spoken of as an act of mercy?
men are viewed as sinners, and are called upon to repent
of their transgressions, as the condition upon which their
forgiveness is suspended. " Go ye," said the Saviour, " into
all the world, and preach the Gospel to every creature."
Inform your fellow mortals, that the vigorous demands of
divine justice have been satisfied by my sufferings: that the
kingdom of heaven, which had been closed against them,
has been opened for tbeir reception, through the atonement
ofiered on Calvary. Make this communication known to
every rational creature. Inform the world that I am no
respecter of persons, kindred, or nations. "He that believeth
and is baptized shall be saved, and he that believeth not
shall be damned."
With this message of mercy upon his lips, did Paul preach
salvation through the blood of Christ to the Athenians.
In the conduct of that people, we perceive the deficiency
of the human intellect, in forming a proper conception of
Jehovah and his attributes. Learning and science, it is to
be remembered, flourished in the greatest perfection in the
Gentile world, immediately preceding the advent of the
Saviour. Notwithstanding, however, all the aids derived
from those sources, the Athenians were as ignorant of
Deity, as the most savage tribes which inhabit our western
forests. When visited by the Apostle, he discovered that
they, whose minds had been cultivated and inproved — who
considered themselves possessed of the greatest information;
as prodigies of human learning — were given to the grossest
idolatry and Polytheism. He therefore embraced the op-
portunity afforded him of preaching Christ and him cruci-
fied, and of leading men from the creature, to the Creator.
"Him," said he, "whom ye ignorantly worship, declare I unto
366 SERMONS.
you." The spirit of Paul derived strength from that spec-
tacle of misery and infatuation, in which he was surrounded.
To behold rational creatures, bowing down before the
works of their own hands, formed a scene so truly distress-
ing, that his best efforts were made use of to reclaim them.
Notwithstanding they had given that glory to idols, which
is due to God alone, he called upon them to awake from
their delusion, and to worship the Maker of all things. He
showed them that forgiveness might be obtained. "The
times of former ignorance God winked at, but now com-
mandeth all men, every where, to repent."
From the disposition of mercy thus manifested by the
Almighty, to his intelligent creatures, even to those most
sunk in the deepest barbarism and wickedness, it must be
evident that he is " unwilling that any should perish, and
desirous that all should come to repentance." The trans-
gressor, when he reflects upon what Jehovah has done for
man, cannot say with truth, or even with the appearance
of truth, that his unbelief and perverseness are agreeable to
the Almighty. He cannot say, that he is placed in a state
of difticulty, from which there is no escape. He cannot
say, that his Creator will be pleased with his destruction;
delighted with the ruin, the everlasting ruin of his soul.
The appeals which the Almighty makes to his conscience, —
the message of the Gospel preached to him for his accept-
ance — the declaration of Jehovah by Ezekiel, " say unto
them, as I live, saith the Lord God, I have no pleasure in
the death of the wicked, but that the wicked turn from his
way and live" — the solemn assurance of the text, " not
willing that any should perish, but that all should come to
repentance:" — all these passages unite in rescuing Deity
from the charge of man's destruction; and in placing the
condemnation of the impenitent to their own account.
If it should be observed, that the duty of repentance can-
not be performed through our own strength — if it should
be said that we are not sufficient of ourselves to think a
good thought ; let it be remembered also, that when the
Gospel enjoins a duty, it directs us to the means by which
SEEMOKS, 367
that duty can be effected. When we are called upon to
repent, we are told by the Apostle, that •' Christ is exalted
to be a Prince and a Saviour, to give repentance to Israel
for the forgiveness of sin." The way, therefore, in which
repentance is to be obtained, is, to " ask that we may
have; to seek, that we may find; and to knock, that the
door may be opened unto us." If it should be observed
that we are so weak, that without the influence and aid of
the Holy Spirit, we can do nothing — it should be remem-
bered, also, that it is in consequence of this weakness of
which we complain, that the Spirit is promised to all who
will humbly solicit its assistance. Nay, to convince us of
the willingness of God to help us in the discharge of our
duty, and to encourage us in our supplications for divine
aid, the Saviour has made an appeal to our understanding,
the force of which cannot be resisted. He represents to us,
that tenderness and affection which we feel for our children,
and the disposition we have to listen to their requests; and
then adds, "If ye, then, being evil, know how to give good gifts
to your children, how much more shall my heavenly Father
give his Holy Spirit to them that ask him." It is upon this
principle, and with the force of this declaration, bearing
upon his mind, that St. James says, " If any man lack wis-
dom, let him ask of God, who giveth to all men liberally,
and upbraideth not." In this glowing passage there is ex-
hibited the greatest force of expression. If any man,
whoever he may be, of whatever nation, whether a con-
firmed saint, or an individual just awaking from his leth-
argy : — if any man lack wisdom, let him ask of God, who
giveth to all men. No contracted limits are set to the di-
vine goodness, but to every man who sincerely asks, God
giveth, and that liberally ; not with a sparing hand, but in
the most abundant supplies, and upbraideth not. The
inquirer shall be repulsed with no frown of disapprobation,
or expression of displeasure, in consequence of past sin ; but
he shall be received as a son, and welcomed to the bosom
of his God.
The testimony of Scripture is so full upon the subject of
368 SERMONS.
the divine mercy ; the declarations of God's word are so con-
clusive upon the subject of the universality of the atone-
ment, and of the free offer of salvation to all who will
comply with its conditions, that it is impossible to resist
their force, or to remain unaffected under those breathings
of compassion in which they are expressed.
John the Baptist speaks of the Redeemer, as " the Lamb
of God, who taketh away the sin of the world." St. Paul
says, " There is one God, and one mediator between God
and man, the man Christ Jesus ; who gave himself a ran-
som for all." St. John declares, "If any man sin, we
have an advocate with the Father, Jesus Christ the right-
eous; and he is the propitiation for our sins, and not for
ours only, but also for the sins of the whole world."
To conclude. With such a dispensation of mercy as that
contained in the Gospel, presented to our view — with
such liberal offers of salvation pressing themselves upon our
consciences, — what apology will the sinner have to offer
for his disobedience to the precepts of Jehovah, his rejection
of his goodness? If no provision had been made for our
escape from the ruins of the fall, the transgressor might
advance some plea for his rebellion; some excuse for his
neglect of divine things. But when he is told, that the
Holy Spirit will be given him to aid him in his religious
efforts — when he is told that the Lord Jesus Christ made
that satisfaction to divine justice, which the violated law
of God required; and that every impediment between
heaven and his soul have been removed — when he is re-
minded that the Spirit of God has striven with him from
his earliest years, cautioning him against sin, and exciting
him to the practice of virtue — when his conscience con-
victs him of having sinned against light, and against knowl-
edge — when convinced of the truth of all these things,
how awful will be his situation at the last day — how un-
pardonable will his conduct appear! If sinful pursuits pro-
duced us real happiness, there would be more excuse for
our continuance in the practice of them than the trans-
gressor can possibly plead. But when conscience by its
SERMONS. 369
powerful appeals renders the sinner unhappy in the nnidst
of his transgressions ; when conscience with its warning
voice breaks in upon him in the hour of his wanderings,
and proclaims to him that the wages of sin is death, and
that ruin awaits him for his rebellion ; when conscience
pronounces punishment as the consequence of transgression,
and when the fancied enjoyments of the sinner wither
under its paralizing influence, — we should suppose that
reason would arrest him in his progress, and convince him
of his awful mistake. (As a minister of the Gospel, I inter-
pose my fatherly counsel between the offender and ruin.)
The Lord Jesus is unwilling, my fellow mortals, that you
should perish ; he shed his blood for our salvation ; he
died that we might live forever; from the cross on Cal-
vary he addresses us in mercy, and offers us an interest in
the merit of his death. " Look unto me and be ye saved,"
forms his affectionate appeal. " Why, why will ye die?" is
his expostulation of mercy. Another day may be too late;
let the supplication of Peter constitute our prayer, "Lord
save us or we perish."
To those who love the Lord — to those who acknowledge
his goodness, and are disposed to obey his precepts, the
subject we have considered is calculated to awaken their
gratitude, and to excite them to the most vigorous dis-
charge of duty.
The love of God cannot fail of inspiring the Christian's
bosom with the most fervent zeal. We cannot serve that
Being too faithfully who has executed such wonders to secure
our salvation. The incarnation and ministry of the Lord
Jesus Christ excited the devotion of angels, and produced
a jubilee in heaven. His death on Calvary, his precious
blood as it flowed from his bosom, are proofs conclusive of
his affection for man, and entitle him to our adoration.
Let us this day, my Christian brethren, renew our vows
of obedience; let us love him unreservedly who hath thus
loved us; and be determined to know nothing but Jesus
Christ, and him crucified.
SERMON V.
" The hand of ihe Lord was upon me, and carried me out in the Spirit
cf the Lord, and set me down in the midst of the valley, which was full of
bones, and caused me to pass by them round about: and, behold, there
were very many in the open valley ; and, lo, they were very dry. And he
said unto me, Son of man, can these bones live ? And I answered,
Lord God, thou knowest." — Ezekiel, xxxvii, 1, 2, 3.
The mind fond of the sublime and beautiful, may always
meet with the finest figures of speech in the sacred wri-
tings. The imagination of man, even in his most favored
moments, cannot produce such noble, animated images, as
those contained in the Scriptures. To compare the light
of a midnight taper with the sun in his strength, would
form a comparison more just than to compare the writings
of the most exalted genius with the language of inspired
men. One is the eflfort of the human mind, the other the
immediate production of the Almighty.
In the passage before us there are beauties not only
calculated to please and to instruct, but to animate the
Christian with hope. It conveys to him information which
clevalos his thoughts above all temporal considerations, and
proclaims to him his future happy destiny; it assures him
that the Almighty possesses the power, not only to rectify
the disorders of his depraved nature by infusing into his
soul spiritual life, but that the tenants of the grave shall
be reanimated by his influence, and arise from their slum-
bering mansions, clothed in immortality. It is calculated
to console the pious parent, in the hour of his privation, with
the prospect of a reunion with his offspring in a better
SERMONS. 371
world; it is calculated to soften the anguish of the widow's
heart, and to allay the distresses of the orphan, by the
assurance of the resurrection of his Christian parent from
the dead ; it proclaims to the believer, that this \Yorld is
not the only theatre upon which he is to exist; it shews
him that the God he loves is able to quicken his body,
though buried for ages, and to restore it from the ruins
of the grave.
The subject divides itself into three propositions. First,
as descriptive of the state of the Jews while captive in
Babylon. Secondly, as descriptive of the resurrection of
immortal beings from the death of sin to a life of right-
eousness. Thirdly, as descriptive of the resurrection of the
dead at the last day.
First, as descriptive of the state of the Jews while cap-
tive in Babylon, and their deliverance by Cyrus.
Notwithstanding the Almighty had promised to release
Israel from their captivity, and to restore them to their own
country, still the difhcultiesin which they were placed, their
dispersed state and separation from each other; their des-
titution of all those means necessary to favour their return,
produced that degree of dejection which prevented them
from enjoying the comfort connected with the assurance of
their deliverance; the utmost despondency pervaded their
minds, and sunk them in the abyss of despair.
The affliction under which they laboured, in conse-
quence of their separation from their altars and their
country, is eloquently expressed in the cxxxvii. Psalm. The
recollection of their former state, a period in which they
were exalted to heaven in point of privileges, when com-
pared to that abject situation to which the Psalmist alluded,
drew fiom their lips the most pungent expressions of dis-
tress, and from their eyes tears of the deepest grief. " By
the rivers of Babylon there we sat down ; yea, we wept
when we remembered Zion ; we hanged our harps upon the
willows in the midst thereof, for there they that carried
us away captive required of us a song; and they that
wasted us required of us mirth, saying, sing us one of the
372 SERMONS.
songs of Zion. How shall we sing the Lord's song in a
strange land? If I forget thee, Jerusalem, let my right
hand forget her cunning. If I do not remember thee, let
my tongue cleave to theroof of my mouth."
In addition to those painful feelings connected with a
state of bondage, they had to contend with the cruel in-
sults of their idolatrous masters. Instead of meeting with
that commiseration and sympathy which were due a con-
quered people, their enemies insulted them in their distress ;
and while their hearts \vere bursting with grief, the
heathen required of them the language of happiness and
contentment.
Had their enemies, from proper motives, asked them to
sing the songs of Zion, they would joyfully have yielded to
their requests; but it was done to ridicule the devotions of
an afflicted people, and to turn their religious exercises into
a jest. The Psalmist, at a particular period, influenced by
considerations similar to those which produced silence on
the part of the Jews, declared, " I will keep my tongue as
it were with a bridle, while the ungodly are in my sight."
In unison with the same feelings the afllicted Jew observed,
" How shall I sing the Lord's song in a strange land V
How shall I sing that which is so sacred to my soul in the
presence of idolaters, and render a service peculiar to the
worship of God a source of merriment to the wicked ; to
those who are strangers to its importance, and determined
to ridicule my devotions ? Dark, however, as was the pe-
riod in which they lived ; tempestuous as was the sea of
calamity in which they were involved, — a gleam of light
would sometimes reflect itself upon their minds and enable
them to realize the promise of their liberation. " O daugh-
ter of Babylon, who art to be destroyed, happy shall he be
that rewardeth thee, as thou hast served us." (" Happy
shall he be that taketh and dasheth thy little ones against
a stone.")
It was in a moment thus dark and gloomy, a moment in
which Israel was prostrated in ruin ; as destitute of the
power of exertion as those dry bones which Ezekiel saw in
SERMONS. 373
his vision, (a vision which declared, that although the re-
lease of the Jews was an event which, to man, appeared
impossible, yet that it was not impossible with God ; but
that the time was at hand in which Jehovah would arise
and have mercy upon Zion, and restore his people to their
own country,) that the king of Persia was selected by-
heaven as the instrument of their relief; their deliverance
was effected by Cyrus, who, in conjunction with Darius the
Mede, subdued the Chaldean nation, and established the
Israelites in their own land. " The dry bones of the cap-
tive tribes were animated with new life ; the Lord breathed
upon the slain and they lived."
The vision contained in the text, is also descriptive of
the resurrection of immortal beings from the death of sin
to a life of righteousness.
However solemn the reflection, still it is asserted as a
truth in the Scriptures, that they who live in pleasure are
dead while they live; they are insensible that this life is a
state of probation ; they live as if there was no other state
of existence than the present. Sin is the death of the soul :
consequently, wherever habitual sin prevails there is a pri-
vation of spiritual life, an insensibility to divine things, a
deadness to any enjoyments but those of our carnal nature.
The practice of iniquity renders the sinner obnoxious to a
God of holiness, and cuts him off from God the fountain of
life. That St. Paul considered the Ephesians in a state of
spiritual death prior to their conversion and establishment
in holiness, is evident from the manner in which he ad-
dressed them subsequent to their moral change. " You
hath he quickened," said the venerable Apostle, " who
were dead in trespasses and sins." The conversion of a
soul to God, is its resurrection from death to life. It then
begins to live when it begins to live to God ; to breathe
after heaven and holiness ; to move towards the Almighty,
and to make preparation for that eternity toward which we
are rapidly hastening.
When we reflect upon the number of those who live re-
gardless of the Almighty ; when we call to view the
gg2
374 SER3I0NS.
whole human family, and consider how great is the pro-
portion of mankind who habitually violate the laws of God,
and refuse a subjection to his authority, we must acknowl-
edge that the metaphor in our text is perfectly descriptive
of their awful state. Instead of evidencing the possession
of spiritual life, they appear dead and insensible to divine
impressions. "The valley," as the prophet expresses it, "is
full of bones; and those bones are very dry." Destitute,
however, as they are of a disposition to engage in spiritual
things, the gospel of Christ is calculated to infuse life and
vigor into them. The breath of divine grace will breathe
upon the slain that they may live, and man, who by the
fall lost his moral principle, will become a living soul, ac-
tive in the discharge of duty, alive to God and devoted to
his service. This was the case with Saul of Tarsus, and
it was also the case with the thousands who were convert-
ed at the feast of Pentecost. When the Holy Ghost dis-
played his divine power among them, they awoke from the
death of sin to a life of righteousness. I^aul exclaimed,
" Lord, what wilt thou have me to do?" and the astonished
Jews inquired, " Men and brethren what shall we do to
be saved?" St. Paul, instead of breathing out threaten-
ings and slaughter against his fellow-creatures, was endued
with a spirit of peace and good-will to man. The most
perfect accomplishment of Ezekiel's vision will be found
by considering, thirdly, its reference to the resurrection of
the dead at the last day.
tFpon this solemn and important event the Scriptures are
very full. Daniel proclaims it in these words : " Many
of them that sleep in the dust of the earth shall awake,
some (o everlasting life, and some to shame and ever-
lasting contempt." Job, animated with the pleasing pros-
pect whicli awaited him at that hour, testified of its
certainty: "I know that my Redeetner liveth and that
he i^hall stand at the latter day upon the earth; and,
though after my skin worms destroy this body, yet in my
flesh I shall see God, whom I shall see for myself, and mine
eyes shall behold and not another;" and the Psalmist,
SERMONS. 375
" Thou turnest men to destruction, and again thou sayest,
return again ye children of men."
When the light of the gospel, by which life and immor-
tality have been brought to light, was reflected upon the
world, the mystery in which the resurrection had been
clothed was rent asunder, and the most clear and manifest
representation of it has been exhibited to our view. " The
hour is coming/'said the Lord Jesus Christ, " when all that
are in their graves shall hear his voice and shall come forth,
they that have done good unto the resurrection of life, and
they that have done evil unto the resurrection of damna-
tion."
St. Paul, impressed with the solemnity of the subject,
declares, " We must all appear before the judgment seat
of Christ to receive the reward according to the deeds done
in the body." St. John, in the Revelation, asserts, "I saw
a great white throne, and him that sat on it, from
whose face the earth and the heavens fled away. I saw
the dead both small and great stand before God : and the
sea gave up the dead which were in it, and death and hell
delivered up the dead which were in them ; and they were
judged every man according to his works." (St. Peter paints
to our view, in colours truly awful, the solemnity of the
last judgment; " The day of the Lord will come as a thief
in the night, in which the heavens shall be rolled up with
a great noise, and the elements shall melt with fervent heat;
the earth also and the works that are therein shall be
burnt up.")
It was this momentous principle, the resurrection of the
dead at the last day, which invigorated the Patriarchs, and
has sustained the people of God under every trial. It was
this principle which Paul asserted and vindicated in the
presence of King Agrippa ; " Why should it be thought a
thing incredible," said he, "that God should raise the
dead." If it be an event to which the powers of man are
unequal, it cannot constitute a {Principle which exceeds the
power of God, Did not the Almighty architect create the
world out of nothing ? calling into existence the sun, and
376 sssxoss.
covering the heaveos with hosts of glittering star; ? Did he
Dot form man out of the duit of the earth, and endue him
mth life? and can he not again form them out of their own
clay, and reanimate their bodies ?
The universal impression stamped upon the human mind,
relative to the event under consideration, forms a strong
argument in favour of the position. Almost every nation
with whose history we are acquainted, bears witness to the
truth- A longing after immortality pervades our whole
species; they all look forward to a future state, and, how-
ever clouded and inconsistent may be their views, still, as
the opinion is universal, it carries on it the impress of an
Almighty hand.
In his Epistle to the Corinthians, St. Paul enters into a
long and satisfactory argument upon the subject of the re-
surrection, proving the truth of the principle, not only from
the ability of the Almighty to execute it, but from analogy
also. " Some man will say, how are the dead raised up,
and with what body will they come ' Thou fool 1 that
which thou sowest is not quickened, except it die." The
seed we deposit in the earth must first corrupt before it
will quicken and spring up : it not only vegetates after it
is corrupted, but it must die that it may live ; our bodies
are sown in corruption, but they will be raised in incor-
ruption. They will then be subject to no decay — liable to
no infirmity or disease — made like the glorious body of our
Redeemer — refined into an etherial substance, immortal
in the heavens.
It was this event, which is so fully, so sublimely repre-
sented in the vision of Ezekiel ; " The hand of the Lord
was upon me, nnd carried me out in the Spirit of the Lord,
and set me down in the midst of the valley, which was full
of bones, and caused me to pass by them round about; and
behold, there were very many in the open valley : and lo,
they were very dry. And he said unto me, son of man, can
these bones live ? And 1 answered, O Lord God, thou
knowest. Again, he said unto me. Prophesy upon these
bones; ;av unto them, 0, ve dry bones, hear ve the word
of the Lord : thus -aith the Lord God unto these bones,
Behold I will cause breath to enter into you, and je shall
live. And I will lay sinews upon yon, and will bring flesh
upon you, and cover you with skiD, and put breath in you,
and ye shall live, and ye shall know that I am the Lord.
So 1 prophesied as I was commanded: and as I prophesied
there was a noise — and behold, a shaking ; and the bones
came together, bone to his bone. And when I beheld, lo,
the sinews and the flesh came upon them, and the skin
covered them above : but there was no breath in them.
Then said he unto me. Prophesy unto the winds : Prophesy,
son of man, and say to the wind, thus saith the Lord God :
Come from the four winds, O breath, and breathe upon
these slain, that they may live. So I prophesied as he
commanded me: and the breath came into them, and they
lived, and stood upon their ieet, an exceeding great army."
There is no point of our holy religion which conveys, to
a pious and reflecting mind, such unbounded satisfaction as
the doctrine of the resurrection ; the prospect of another
country, in which happiness without alloy will be awarded
to the faithtul, reconciles them to present difficulty, and
gives an elasticity to their minds, which enables them to
submit cheerfully to the troubles of this lower world. With-
out its cheering considerations, how destitute of comfort
would the believer be, when called upon to part with a
Christian parent — to take a last farewell of the pious com-
panion of his bosom — to commit to the tomb the child of
his affections, a beloved brother, a friend? How heavy
would be his heart when consigning them to the sepulchre,
if that sepulchre was never to surrender up its imprisoned
guests '
Aided by the light of Revelation, and confiding in the vera-
city of that report, stamped upon its sacred pages by the God
he worships, the Christian anticipates a reunion with his
departed relatives in the eternal world : he stands in imagi-
nation at their graves: he inquires in the language of the
prophet, " Can these dry bones live V' And while the ques-
tion is still dwelling on his tongue, he beholds them vivified
378 SERTIONS.
by the breath of the Almighty; he sees them shaking,
quivering with newly imparted life. However numerous
the bones which constitute the human frame, he sees them,
with Ezekiel's eye. coming together, bone to its kindred
bone ; he sees their scattered atoms ranged and marshalled
in their proper place; he sees the sinews and the flesh
coming upon them, and the skin covering them; he sees
the breath of the Almighty infusing into them life; he
recognises in their immortal bodies his parents ; he be-
holds his beloved child — his companion — his brother — his
friend ; he sees them standing on their feet, their counte-
nances beaming with celestial joys — intelligent — immortal !
With such impressions fixed upon the mind, well may
the Christian exultingly say, O, death, thou hast lost thy
sting ! O, grave, thy triu.Tnphs will soon be brought to a
close ! Thy captives will be released, and eternal happi-
ness be the portion of the followers of the Lamb.
To conclude; St. Paul, enraptured with the prospect of
eternal life, sensible of the superiority of that claim to
which the joys of heaven are entitled ; blessed in that
vision, with which he had been favoured, of those mansions
prepared for the people of God — pressed forward as if run-
ning a race toward the prize of his high calling in Christ
Jesus.
My brethren, we have tried for years the enjoyments of
the present life, and have found them unsatisfying in their
use, and transitory in their nature. While our eyes and
our hearts have been fixed on those blessings which have
surrounded us, and we have viewed them as durable and
substantial, they have vanished as a vapour, and have
left us comfortless and distracted at their departure. It is
not in the things of time, my beloved parishioners, that real
happiness is to be found; the impress of death and dis-
solution is stamped upon every enjoyment we possess;
riches cannot secure us against the attacks of adversity;
the children of the poor are heirs to the same difficulties;
the same diseases which carry desolation to the cottage of
the poor, lay waste the dwellings of the most wealthy;
SERMONS. 379
the same grave which claims the beggar as its tenant, is
prepared for the reception of the monarch; dust thou
art, and unto dust thou shalt return, is applicable to every
descendant of Adam. The trials, however, of the Chris-
tian will terminate in this world; there remaineth a rest
for the people of God, is the declaration and assurance of
Scripture ; a rest, from the possession of which neither
death nor the grave can separate him. Let no trials, ye
followers of the Saviour, discumpose your minds ; how-
ever afflicted, however tried, however poor in temporal
things, ye are the heirs of a kingdom, eternal in the heavens :
keep, I beseech you, keep your eye fixed on that period
when those joys will be made your own ; when every tear
will be wiped from your eye, and sorrow and sighing be
done away forever. Suffer not the grave to excite in your
mind a disquieting fear ; it is the Christian pilgrim's path
to glory ; Jesus hath stripped it of its cypress, and enrobed
it in evergreen ; though your bodies will be sown in cor-
ruption, they will be raised in incorruption ; the Almighty
will breathe upon his slain, and they will live ; the tomb
will surrender up its prisoner, and ye will ascend in triumph
to your Father and your God.
SERMON VL
" As he reasoned of righteousness, temperance, and a judgment to come,
Felix trembled, and answered, Go thy way for this time, when I have a
convenient season, I will call for thee." — Acts, xxiv. 25.
The subject before us presents us with an evidence of
the powers of conscience, and also of the force of Divine
truth. It shows us that there are seasons in which all the
barriers that we can raise against the appeals of convic-
tion will give w\ay, and fall prostrate before the majesty
and omnipotence of virtue; that the principles of right
and wrong are so deeply impressed upon our minds by the
Author of our existence, that it is impossible to resist their
influence, or to withstand their power; and that every man
who violates the laws of God, and acts in opposition to the
principles of moral rectitude, will feel the pains of self-con-
demnation, and tremble at his departure from equity and
truth.
Though it is a truth established upon the basis of Scrip-
ture, that we can do nothing good without Divine assist-
ance, still it is equally true, that, provided we will listen to
the warning voice of conscience, and supplicate Jehovah
for the ability to do what is right, our better principle will
be invigorated by his grace, and we shall be enabled to
comply with every moral precept. It is trusting to our
own imaginary strength, which involves us in sin. Reso-
lutions of a virtuous description, made in reliance upon
divine aid, and solicited and sought in earnest and sincere
SERMONS. 381
prayer, will always prove effectual ; while determinations
of amendment, made upon the presumption of our own
powers, will prove abortive, and leave us exposed to failure
upon every recurrence of temptation.
Had Felix listened to the convictions of his conscience;
had he entreated the Almighty to assist him in subduing
his corruptions, he would have succeeded ; but as he
banished the convictions of his mind to a more convenient
season, his love of sin obtained the ascendancy, and with
his eyes open, in opposition to the warning voice of God
within him, he fell a martyr to transgression, and died as
he had lived, the violater of God's holy laws.
In the elucidation of the subject before us, we will con-
sider, 7?r5/, the points of doctrine insisted upon by Paul;
secondly, the penetrating effects to which his appeals gave
rise ; thirdly, the fatal consequences arising from the sup-
pression of our convictions. First, we are to consider the
points of doctrine insisted upon by Paul.
With the character of Felix, the Apostle was, no doubt,
fully acquainted. His maimer of life, and the habits in
which he indulged, were too open to escape detection ; and
as he had sent for Paul, to hear him explain the peculiar
features of the Christian religion, the Apostle conceived it
an imperative duty to deal faithfully with the Roman go-
vernor, and to bring home to his conscience, the awful ac-
count he would have to render the Almighty for his con-
duct.
Felix, it is to be observed, had taken advantage of his
elevated rank in society, to commit an act of violence upon
the rights and privileges of a fellow creature; and in con-
sequence of the power he possessed, and the impossibility of
being called to an account by man for his violation of
moral precept, had induced Drusilla to leave her husband,
to sacrifice every principle of female chastity, and to live
in habits of adultery with himself
In the presence (hen of Felix and his wretched associate
Drusilla, Paul brought forward the morality of the gospel.
He held up the mirror to their view, in order that they
H H
382 SERMONS.
might see and know themselves. He reasoned with them
of righteousness and temperance : and in order to show
them the impossibiHty of eluding the scrutinizing eye of an
omniscient God, he pourtrayed to their view the solemni-
ties of the last judgment; a period in which all earthly dis-
tinctions will be done away ; a period in which Felix would
be stripped of his ermine, and stand before the bar of
Jehovah for trial ; a period, in which he and Drusilla, and
that husband whose rights they had violated, would be
confronted with each other, and the most strict and impar-
tial administration of justice would take place.
The Apostle reasoned of righteousness. He showed
Felix and Drusilla, that justice was a law founded upon
the basis of reason ; that the poorest member of society
possessed his rights, and that those rights could not be vio-
lated with impunity ; that every man, however exalted by
earthly distinction, was subject to the same law of equity,
which was given to regulate the conduct of the poor; and
that the individual who should wantonly trample upon the
privileges of others, would be called to an account at the
last day. He showed them that divine justice would be
administered with an even hand; that the judge was 07nni-
scient as well a^ omnipotent -, that no subterfuge could
escape his all-seeing eye; that no false testimony could per-
plex the eternal God, and that the criminal, though he had
wielded a sceptre, or been elevated to a throne, would be
weighed in the same balance with the meanest slave, and
be punished according to his deeds.
Paul reasoned of righteousness. He showed Felix and
Drusilla, that " rulers are raised up as a terror to evil
doers; but for a praise to them who do well;" that they
should conform their lives to the precepts of equity, and not
violate them : that it is their duty " to do unto others, as
they would wish otheis to do unto them;" and that " with
what measure they mete to others, it shall be meted to
them again.'''
It was no doubt the expectation of Felix, when he sent
for Paul, that the Apostle's discourse would have turned
upon the subject of mystical divinity, and that his observa-
tions would have been confined to the externals of Christi-
anity; but the opportunity to enforce practical truth, Paul
thought too imperative to be overlooked. It was the first,
and perhaps would be the only season in which to be ex-
plicit upon those points most pertinent to the condition of
those who heard him ; he therefore reasoned of righteous-
ness and temperance, and showed that the faith in Christ,
insisted upon a conformity to the law of God ; that " the
grace or gospel of God which bringeth salvation, instructs
its votaries to deny ungodliness and worldly lusts, and to
live soberly, righteously, and godly in this present world ;"
that its votaries are commanded under the most heavy
penalties, " to keep under the body, and to bring it into
subjection ;" that every man who would be a disciple of
Christ, "must deny himself every sinful gratification, take
up the cross, and follow the Saviour in the path of holi-
ness."
St. Paul was sensible, that before Felix and Drusilla
could be induced to seek an interest in the Saviour, they
must be convinced of their own sinfulness ; " that while
they conceived themselves whole, they would not apply to
the physician." To show them their diseased state, was
the Apostle's object; to bring their sins to their remem-
brance was the point at which he aimed ; he showed them
that a tyranical and unjust ruler, would have to answer for
his conduct ; that a vicious woman was the scorn of her
own sex, and abhorred by a holy God: and in order to drive
them from every hold, and to dislodge the offenders from
the very ground on which they stood, he spake of the judg-
ment to come — of that day which will try every man's
work — that day in which every human being will stand or
fall, according to the deeds done in the body.
We are, secondly, to consider the penetrating effects
which the appeals of the Apostle produced. " Felix
trembled." There is not a shadow of testimony expressive
of any effect produced upon the mind of Drusilla. It is not
frequent, comparatively speaking, that women are lost to
384 SERMONS.
a sense of virtue; but it is equally true that when they lose
the impression of moral rectitude, and sink in the abyss
of moral degradation, they are more depraved than
man, and not so easily rescued from guilty habits. This
may arise from a consciousness of the ditficulty of their
recovery, and as their actions are viewed with a micro-
scopic eye by men, those exertions which might other-
wise be made, are seldom or never attempted. " Felix
trembled." Paul's address was made to the consciences of
his auditors — he leveled the artillery of the gospel at the
heart, the citadel of their corruptions. He sought not so
much to please, as to aw aken the Roman governor : he
therefore exposed to his view the turpitude of his conduct,
and the consequences which would follow, unless repentance
should intervene and a refuge be secured in the blood of
Christ.
The gospel of Christ is compared in Scripture to a two-
edged sword. Felix felt its power ; it convinced him of his
sins; it struck terror into his heart, and his knees smote one
against the other. However lightly men may think of a
future judgment, and however ligbtly they may talk upon
the subject, still when sin is pressed home upon the con-
science, it frequently renders the man who has been a
terror to others, a terror to himself; the stoutest heart will
be appalled; the most resolute mind be shaken to its centre.
Prior to the animated discourse of Paul relative to the
last judgment, Felix must, through that sense of right and
wrong, impressed upon the mind by the Creator, have been
sensible that his conduct merited the disapprobation of
heaven. He must have known that his cruelty to the
husband of Drusilla was an offence against the law of jus-
tice and of reason ; imperfect as were his views of morality,
he could not have supposed that the Almighty beholds with
the same complacency, the oppressor and the oppressed.
He could not have thought that Jehovah is an indifferent
spectator of human actions; he could not have supposed
that virtue and vice are (he same; he could not have be-
lieved that the Almighty could be pleased with his offences ;
SERMONS. 385
or that he could escape punishment, merely because there
was no human tribunal before which he could be arraigned.
There is a principle in every man, a principle derived
from Deity, which revolts at the idea of violence and injus-
tice. To suppose, therefore, that violence and injustice can
escape without punishment, would be to think that God is
less holy and upright than the creatures he hath made.
Even in this life the Almighty has impressed upon virtue
the mark of his approbation, by rendering the virtuous man
the object of esteem; while the expression of his disappro-
bation of vice is also evident, in his rendering the vicious
and the profligate the objects of detestation. Paul, sensi-
ble of these truths — truths made so apparent to Felix by
the light of nature, showed him that the gospel asserted the
same principles, and more clearly defined their certainty
in holding up to the view of mankind a day of strict and
final retribution. Felix listened, and Felix trembled — the
powers of his understanding accorded with the declarations
of the Apostle, and yielded to the rationality of his re-
marks.
liovv mighty is the power of divine truth ! Reflect for a
moment upon the disadvantages under which Paul laboured,
and you must acknowledge its omnipotence. Paul was a
prisoner, standing in the presence of his judge — friendless
and unprotected, save by that God in whose service he was
engaged. He was loaded with chains, without the least pros-
pect of relief. Fearless, however, of consequences, he dis-
charged his duty with fidelity: his eloquence rent asunder
the veil, behind which the Roman governor had concealed
himself, and produced in his mind an agony of horror. He
saw in imagination the Almighty upon his throne, and for a
moment considered himself a criminal at the bar of retribu-
tive justice: the injury he had donetoAzizus the husband
of Drusilla, reflected itself upon his conscience — the adul-
tery and intemperance in which he lived, were charged
home upon him — he heard the last trumpet sound, and a
voice exclaiming " arise ye dead and come to judgment :
his soul melted and fainted within him : Felix trembled.
H H 2
386 SERMONS.
Had Felix improved the convictions under which he la-
boured ; had he conversed freely with the Apostle upon
the subject; had he inquired, " what must 1 do to be
saved?" and followed the advice of his teacher, eternal
happiness would have been secured to him; his guilt would
have been pardoned, and his sins washed away in the blood
of Christ. Instead of pursuing such a course, he sent away
from his presence the most faithful friend with whom he
had ever associated, and banished the man to whom he
was bound by every obligation of gratitude. " Go thy v^'ay
for this time ; when I have a convenient season, I will send
for thee."
We are to consider, thirdly, the fatal consequences
arising from the suppression of our convictions.
St. Paul, in his Epistle to the Corinthians, asserts, "Be-
hold, now is the accepted time, behold, now is the day of
salvation;" and never was the declaration m.ore perfectly
applicable than in the case of Felix; his heart had been
softened by the influence of the Gospel, his conscience
aroused from its slumbers, and awakened to a sense of his
sins; that was the season he should have improved, an
interview with an offended God should have been imme-
diately sought ; he should have rushed into his father's
presence, plead guilty at his footstool and solicited pardon,
while pardon could have been obtained.
The error into which the Roman governor fell, is too
commonly practiced. There are few persons, who have not
felt the pains produced in the mind by improper conduct,
and who have not determined at some future day to
seek the Lord : notwithstanding which, their good resolu-
tions have been forgotten, and their reformation postponed
until death has closed the scene of their existence.
How contrary is it to experience, to believe that we shall
be more inclined to think of eternal things to-morrow than to
day ! Will not the same causes which induce us to postpone
the consideration of eternity to-day, operate with the same,
nay, with greater force, at a future period? Will not sin-
ful habits, fronj a longer continuance in them, become more
SERMONS. 387
inveterate, more firmly established ? Do we not observe,
that improper practices, which might have been subdued
when we were young, obtain the dominion over us in ad-
vanced years, and render us slaves to their influence and
power 1 Is it not more difficult to eradicate evils which
have been gathering strength by long indulgence, than to
have left the pursuit of them in early life ? Is it not more
easy to tear up a young tree, than to pluck up by the roots
the aged oak? How seldom does it happen that a man,
who has grown gray in profane habits, is recovered from
the practice of swearing ? How seldom does it occur that
an individual who has been intemperate from early life,
ceases to be so in old age."
The mind, my beloved hearers, as we advance in years, in-
stead of becoming more yielding, acquires an inconquerable
obstinacy. We become impatient of control ; so settled down
and confirmed in the imaginary rectitude of our opinions,
that it is almost impossible to correct or change them. Is
it not from a consciousness of such considerations, that the
parent endeavours to lay in the youthful mind the founda-
tion of virtuous principles ? Is it not from such causes that
we are enjoined to train up a child in the way he should
go, that when he is old he may not depart from it?
Look around you in the world, and take a view of those
who delight in the law of the Lord, and then reflect how
few there are of the number, who have commenced the
work of religion in old age. No, brethren, no, it is contrary
to all experience to expect it. I have never, during a min-
istry of between thirty and forty years, known but two or
three instances, in which those who have lived in sin until
they were old, have ever been persuaded to adopt a truly
religious course. The convenient time, after a certain pe-
riod of life, seldom or never arrives; and that spirit of pro-
crastination which ruins the indolent in worldly concerns,
proves equally injurious in spiritual matters, and pros-
trates the soul in endless distress.
Felix was blessed with an opportunity of repentance and
reformation, but he rejected it. When God called him, he
refused to hear. When the Almighty stretched out his bene-
volent hand, the Roman governor refused its acceptance.
Instead of bidding the Apostle to retire from his presence,
he should have entreated him to stay; he should have so-
licited his advice, and closely followed the counsel of his
lips. " My Spirit shall not always strive with man," says
the Almighty, and Felix was an evidence of the truth of
the declaration. That his heart became harder than ever,
appears evident from his treatment of the venerable apos-
tle; for instead of granting him his liberty, he was callous
to every plea of justice and of mercy; he added ingrati-
tude to the list of his offences, and, willing to show the
Jews a pleasure, after he retired from office, he left Paul
bound, subject to the tyranny of Pontius Festus.
To conclude. The conviction of sin, the knowledge that
we have offended God, unless that knowledge separates
us from transgression, is not conversion. Felix trembled,
and still he retained his attachment to sinful pleasures, and
for aught recorded to the contrary, perished in them.
When, through the influence of divine grace, we feel
sensible of our aberrations from the path of duty, let us
cherish these impressions ; let us listen to the voice of God
within us, and be determined to follow Christ. When Je-
hovah knocks at the door of our hearts, let us immediately
admit him. How improper, how unwise, to put off the
concern of our salvation until to-morrow, when to morrow,
as it respects us, may never arrive ! Tell me not, that
after you have accomplished such and such an object, you
will then think of God — eternity — your souls! Tell me
not, to go away for this time, and at a more convenient
season you will send for me ! I ask you, my beloved pa-
rishioners, is not the concerns of your souls of paramount
importance 1 Is it not the business for which you should
live, the object you should wish to secure ?
Eternal happiness is now offered to you all ; close in, I
beseech you, with the offers of divine love. " Seek ye the
Lord while he may be found, and call ye upon him while
he is near."
SERMON VII.
" What wilt thou that I should do unto thee ? The blind man said
unto him, Lord, that I might receive my sight. And Jesus said unto him,
Go thy way, thy faith hath made thee whole. And immediately he received
his sight, and followed Jesus in the way." — Mark, x. 51, 52.
Gratitude to the Almighty is an unequivocal evidence
of the existence of divine grace in the mind. It secures to
the possessor the approbation of the Almighty, and com-
mands the reverence and respect of the reflecting and judi-
cious. The bosoms of those happy spirits who surround
the throne of God are warmed by its inspiration, and their
happiness is increased by the exercise of that virtue. Re-
solutions of obedience, founded on a principle so pure, will
in general prove permanent, acquiring fresh strength as
the Christian advances in the divine life ; while declara-
tions of affection, extorted from us by fear, will only ob-
tain a transient existence in the mind ; continuing no longer
than the cause which first excited the alarm.
The more deeply the believer reflects upon those circum-
stances which first awakened in his soul the heavenly emo-
tion of gratitude, the greater will be his inclination to ful-
fil its important duties. His first impressions of religion, if
suffered to grow cold and languid by his neglect, will
always be excited to action, and obtain fresh ardour, by
recurring to that cause and calling to mind those pecu-
liar providences by which they were produced. Instead of
390 SER5I0NS.
continuing forgetful of that Being, to whose paternal good-
ness he confesses himself obligated, his inclination to love
and respect him will be increased, and, under all the vicis-
situdes of life, he will look up with adoring confidence to
that God, " who hath delivered his soul from death, his
eyes from tears, and his feet from falling."
Through the weakness of our nature, and the perverse-
ness of our tempers and dispositions, we may sometimes act
as if the remembrance of past mercies was obliterated
from our minds; but the moment in which the cloud of de-
pravity and corruption is pierced by the light of conviction ;
the moment in which the believer, aroused from his slum-
bers by the Holy Spirit, considers the weight of his obliga-
tions to heaven ; that moment his bosom will feel that godly
sorrow which worketh repentance unto life, and grace will
discover its existence in the soul by those warm effusions of
gratitude and love, of which it is always productive. The
recollection of that continued mercy he has enjoyed in the
season of his wanderings from the path of duty, will act
with all its force upon his mind; and, awakened by a sense
of gratitude, the united powers of his soul will fall pros-
trate at the footstool of a compassionate, sin pardoning
Jehovah.
If the enjoyment of one mercy excited in our hearts a
wish to be grateful and obedient, the astonishing repetition
of those mercies we are daily receiving, must certainly in-
crease that disposition. The Christian, therefore, when
communing with his own heart ; when retired from the view
of mortals, he is engaged in the examination of himself,
and inquiring into the extent of those returns he makes to
heaven for the mercies he enjoys, must discover, unless
blinded by self-love, so much cause for lamentation, so
much reason for humility and sorrow, that his mind, op-
pressed with the weight of obligation to his Redeemer, will
constrain him to exclaim, " O the depth of the riches, both
of the wisdom and goodness of God !" " He hath not dealt
with me according to my sins, nor rewarded me according
SERMONS. 391
to my iniquities." " What shall I render to the Almighty
for all the benefits he hath done unto me ?"
It is in the character of a merciful and indulgent parent,
that the Almighty is represented to our view. Every page
of Scripture speaks of our God as long-suffering and abun-
dant in goodness; and, from that benevolence which dis-
tinguished the life of the Redeemer, the intentions and
wishes of heaven with respect to man may be clearly
perceived. In the Lord Jesus Christ we find the most per-
fect assemblage and union of celestial virtues ; and that
mortal, whose heart habitually resists the pleading elo-
quence of his love ; that man whose mind is not subdued
to obedience by the goodness of God, cannot be prepared
for the enjoyment of heaven ; and can have no reasonable
claim, while he continues in impenitence and rebellion, to
that mercy reserved for the followers of the Saviour.
Was the conduct of the Ruler of the universe marked
with the appalling features of a tyrant, who exercised his
power over mortals, because mortals are unable to resist
him — was not the Almighty governed by laws founded on
the basis of justice and of love — despair might be adduced
as a plea in favour of rebellion against his precepts.
But as mercy and truth in him have met together; as
the most unexampled benevolence and compassion charac-
terize his dealings with us ; as he is represented in Scrip-
ture as always ready to relieve our distresses, heal our
moral diseases, and to pardon our sins; as we are assured,
that in order to rescue his intelligent creatures from reme-
diless woe, he undertook the salvation of their souls, and by
his own blood and sufferings opened the kingdom of life
and glory to all the human family ; as we are informed
that God is no respecter of persons, but that he tasted death
for every man: — it is impossible to express in language suffi-
ciently strong, the legitimacy of his claims to our affection
and regard.
The subject of our text is an exemplification and proof
of the mercy and goodness of God ; and while it presents to
our view, in the most affecting language, the tenderness
and compassion of the Saviour, it shows us also that the
392 SERMONS.
suffering mortal upon whom he exercised his benevolence,
was no stranger to the principle of gratitude. It affords us
an instance that human nature, depraved as it is, can be
affected and drawn by the cords of mercy and of love;
and that the poor afflicted Bartimeus, so far from forgetting
the author of his blessings, made a surrender of himself to
his deliverer, and followed Jesus in the way.
Upon the most careful perusal of the New Testament,
you will find that the ear of the Redeemer was ever open
to the voice of distress; that a scene of affliction would
draw from his eye the tear of sympathy ; and that he
never dismissed a petitioner from his presence without
granting him that relief which formed the subject of his
prayer.
The Saviour, as the Sacred History informs us, had
visited Jericho with his disciples. The pure morality he
inculcated, in connexion with the benevolence of his cha-
racter, had impressed the minds of the people with the
divinity of his person; and as an evidence of their respect
and attention, a great number of the people attended him
on his way from that seat of his ministerial labours. As he
was travelling and discoursing with the multitude, an op-
portunity was afforded him of relieving the distressed, and
performing an act of tenderness and compassion : for blind
Bartimeus, the . son of Timeus, sat by the highway-side
begging. Bartimeus appears to have been acquainted with
the extensive powers of that Being who was approaching.
He knew that it was predicted of the Messiah, that at his
appearing " the eyes of the blind should be opened : the
tongue of the dumb should sing: the lame man leap as an
hart." No sooner, therefore, was he informed that Jesus
of Nazareth was passing by ; no sooner was he told that
the friend of the poor and helpless was approaching, than
he cried out in language expressive of his wants, "Jesus,
thou son of David, have mercy on me !"
To be deprived of sight, must be an affliction grievous
and insupportable; to be a stranger to those variegated
beauties of creation which surround us ; to hear them de-
SERMONS. 393
scribed with the tongue of eloquence, and to be unable to
join in admiration, must excite sensations unknown to all
but the unhappy sutFerers themselves. But when, in ad-
dition to that affliction, we behold the unfortunate being
clothed in rags ; when we see him suffering for the want
of comforts he is unable to provide, groping his way through
a world abounding with difficulties, his situation appears
doubly distressing, and awakens our sympathy and regard.
This was the state of poor Bartimeus. Unable to procure
a subsistence himself, he depended upon the charity of
others, and was supported by the contributions of the
humane and considerate; he had no doubt heard that Christ
Jesus had assisted others, whose case had been as deplorable
as his own. His only relief, he felt conscious, was to be
found in the Redeemer ; and as the present moment might
be the only opportunity with which he should ever be fa-
voured, he determined to throw himself at the feet of the
heavenly Physician, and solicit his benevolent interposition.
After the first exclamation had escaped his lips, many
of the people charged him to hold his peace ; but, alive to
his distress, and sensible of the power of that Being to whom
his supplication was offered, he resisted their injunctions of
silence, and cried out so much the more earnestly, " Jesus,
thou son of David, have mercy on me !" Shut not up thy
bowels of compassion against the poor sufferer who ad-
dresses thee — say but the word, and thy servant shall be
healed.
These accents of distress struck the ear of the only be-
gotten Son of God, and commanded his attention. The
Redeemer stopped as he was journeying, and ordered the
petitioner to be brought into his presence. The anxiety of
Bartimeus appears evident, from that language in which
the multitude addressed him, in consequence of the com-
mand of Christ Jesus : " Be of good comfort," said they,
" rise, he calleth thee." They saw his tears; they dis-
covered his agitation; they heard his supplicating cries;
they knew their master too well to suppose that the ex-
pectations of the sufferer would be disappointed ; the mo-
394 SERMONS.
ment the command to bring him forward was given, that
moment they considered the cure perfected : " Be of good
comfort, rise, he calleth thee." It was enough; he wanted
no persuasion to urge him to obedience ; he cast aside the
few tattered garments with which he was covered, and
came naked before his Redeemer. Christians, reahze in
imagination this interesting interview, and witness the com-
passion of your Saviour; marii his conduct on this occa-
sion with the most scrupulous attention, and as fir as lieth
in you, go, I beseech you, " Go and do likewise."
The instant that Bartimeus was led into the presence
of the Immanuel, that instant did the Redeemer discover
his benevolent intentions toward him. The blessing he
intended to confer was truly invaluable; and its value was
not diminished by an unreasonable delay; he marked the
distress of the petitioner in the expressive lineaments of his
face, and was anxious to afford him relief: " What wilt
thou," said the Saviour, "what wilt thou that I shall do
unto thee?"
The wants of the supplicant, though many, were all
summed up in one request. He had, no doubt, frequently
looked for assistance from his fellow-creatures; but human
skill, so deficient in all its operations, could not reach his
case. This, therefore, was his last and only appeal ; his
prospects of vision, with all its concomitant blessings, de-
pended on the issue of that moment; all minor considera-
tions were overlooked ; his restoration to sight engrossed his
whole soul. " Lord," he said, " that I may receive my
sight." Behold the anxiety of the multitude ; see the
prayer of humanity painted in every face; they fixed their
eyes upon the King of Israel, and read in his countenance
his benevolent reply: that God who said, •' Let there be
light, and there was light," proclaimed in majestic accents
his restoration, " Receive thy sight, thy faith hath saved
thee." At that instant the veil of darkness was withdrawn
from the eyes of Bartimeus, and the works of creation re-
flected their beauties on his sight; he who had groped in
the dark shades of night, without a refreshing ray to de-
SERMONS. 395
light his mind, or change the dreary scene, heheld the
works of his Almighty Parent; he saw his dehverer, the
meek and lowly Jesus, arrayed in the smiles of friendship
and compassion, and with a heart impressed with gratitude
determined to follow in his train : for " immediately he re-
ceived his sight, and followed Jesus in the way."
Those of us who have received acts of kindness and be-
nevolence, can realize in some degree the feelings of the
poor beggar; we who have been relieved in the hour of
necessity by the sympathetic tenderness of a friend, can
judge of the emotions of Bartimeus; no dangers were too
great for him ro encounter in the service of that Being who
had blessed him with vision ; words were but uncertain
evidences of his gratitude ; he therefore expressed his ac-
knowledgments by his actions ; he was not ashamed of
Christ; he followed him in the way of duty and obedience.
The heart, influenced by divine grace, cannot fail of
being pleased with the conduct of Bartimeus; he had
received an inestimable blessing, and would have been
criminal in the least neglect of that Being who in mercy
had conferred it. This is a rational opinion, founded on
the principle of moral rectitude, and flowing from the
operation of grace on the soul ; the improvement, there-
fore, of the idea shall compose the sequel of my discourse.
If favours of a temporal nature demand our gratitude,
how extensive should be the acknowledgments of the Chris-
tian to the God of his salvation ; how fervent the devotions
of the awakened sinner ! A momentary distress excites in
our bosoms a wish to obtain relief; and when that relief
is procured, we feel thankful to the individual through
whose instrumentality it is obtained ; let that distress and
anguish, therefore, from which we have been rescued by
the pains and sufferings of the Lord Jesus Christ, make a
suitable impression on our minds, and induce us to be
grateful and obedient. The purchase of our salvation was
accomplished by the death and suflTerings of the only be-
gotten Son of God ; it is to the inexpressible love of the
Saviour that we are indebted for all our temporal blessings.
39fi SERMONS.
and that we are encouraged to look forward to everlasting
happiness and glory ; we had violated the divine law, and
as an infinite sacrifice could alone satisfy the demands of
divine justice, either the sinner must have perished, or
some compassionate and sinless surety be found to atone for
transgression, and to discharge the poor insolvent from his
bonds. This surety, then, is the Lord Jesus Christ, in whom
was no sin : He it is who " was made sin for us, that we
might be made the righteousness of God in him ;" he it is in
whom the poor sinner may find redemption from eternal
ruin, and obtain perfect remission and forgiveness for all
his offences. The atonement forms a subject which can
never be exhausted ; it is the last and only hope of every
true penitent.
The importance of this principle of our holy religion can-
not fail of impressing our minds, when we consider the mental
as well as bodily sufferings to which it gave rise in the bosom
of the Redeemer. When he viewed it at a distance, and the
bitter agonies it cost him were presented to his mind, sweat,
like drops of blood, crimsoned his cheek; it could have
been no little suffering which produced the exclamation,
" Father, if it be possible, remove this cup from me !" It
could have been no little sutfering which extorted from him
the heart-piercing cry, " My God ! my God ! why hast thou
forsaken me !" It could have been no little suffering from
the effects of which the sacred Jesus bowed his head and
gave up the ghost. If the gratitude of Bartimeus was ex-
cited by his restoration to sight, how ought our gratitude
to be excited by a display of mercies so great as the salva-
tion of our souls ! Let us, then, imitate his example, and
follow Jesus in the path of duty.
In addition to the general proofs of redemption, are
there not those present who have been called from the
paths of transgression by the voice of the Gospel, and who
have listened to that call? Are there not those present,
who, at some particular period of life, have been enabled
to lay hold on the promises of pardon to the penitent, and
have enjoyed a reasonable assurance of forgiveness ? Yes,
SERBIONS. 397
brethren, when the affections of the believer have been
warmed with the recollection of God's goodness ; when he
has been engaged in the duty of thanksgiving, and soliciting
God to impart to him still greater manifestations of his
love ; when, like Bartimeus, he sat by the highway side of
the Gospel, panting after God as the hart panteth for the
water-brook; at such a season the Almighty has so effec-
tually dispelled his fears, that tears of gratitude and love
have flowed from his eyes, and bis soul has enjoyed a fore-
taste of that rest which remaineth for the people of God.
Let not such a view of the believer's privileges be con-
sidered visionary; for theRedeemer has said, " He that hath
my commandments, and keepeth them, he it is that loveth
me ; and he that loveth me shall be loved of my Father,
and I will love him, and will manifest myself to him." It
is this manifestation of the love of Christ to the believer, of
which I am speaking — a manifestation arising from a be-
lief in the promises of God, and the application of those
promises to himself. It is that principle which excites a
glow of happiness in the breast of those who live in the
performance of their Christian duties ; it is the production
of that i^pirit which witnesses with our spirit that we are
the children of God. To possess this invaluable blessing,
we must follow Jesus in the way, and never be weary in
well-doing.
By calling to mind the mercies we have received at the
hands of the Almighty, we shall perceive that the debt of
gratitude we owe to heaven, merits the warmest returns
of devotion. How often hath our Heavenly Father rescued
us from the abyss of distress ! When some beloved member
of our family has been afflicted; when we ourselves have
been plunged in tribulation, or confined to the bed of sick-
ness; and when that tribulation or sickness has been so
sore that every door of relief appeared to be closed against
us, God has mercifully interposed, restored us to health,
changed the desert of our sorrows into a well cultivated
field, and made the rock of our affliction to yield us the
waters of comfort and joy; when with our hearts we
ii2
398 SER3I0NS.
have offered up a prayer expressive of our griefs, that
prayer has ascended before the throne of God, and obtained
a compassionate hearing ; the angel of mercy has visited
us, and the darkness of affliction has been succeeded by a
day of serenity and peace. Our minds, in those moments,
were no strangers to gratitude; the feelings of our hearts
were honourable to us as men and as Christians; and with
Bartimeus, we not only experienced the wish, but we nobly
resolved to follow Jesus in the way. Let us carry our vir-
tuous resolutions, my brethren, into full eflfect; " Let us
pay our vows unto the Lord, in the presence of all his peo-
ple: in the courts of the Lord's house, in the midst of Jeru-
salem, praise the Lord."
Finally; We may gather from the history of Bartimeus
the blessings we may expect from an attendance upon the
instituted means of grace. Bartimeus was sitting by the
highway side, the path in which the Redeemer was jour-
neying on his return from Jericho; and while in that situa-
tion, the only Physician who was qualified to remove his
blindness appeared to his relief, and granted him that boon
for which he had sought for years from other sources, and
sought in vain. His supplication found its way to the ear
of the Redeemer, and vision was imparted to the sufTerer.
However blind man by nature is to spiritual things, and how-
ever insensible to the value of religious reflection and evan-
gelical truth, let him attend upon the means of grace, and
the stated services of the Church, and he may with pro-
priety expect that sooner or later the Redeemer will ap-
pear to his relief — remove his blindness — bless him with
spiritual vision — give him a new heart — and influence him
to follow Jesus in the way of duty. The path of duty, my
beloved, is the path of safety; put yourselves, therefore,
in the way of his blessing ; adopt the language of Bartimeus
— " Jesus, thou Son of David, have mercy on us !" and while
the cry for assistance is burning on your lips, the Lord
Jesus will hear your prayer, give you an understanding
heart, and render the ways of religion the ways of pleasant-
ness, and her paths the paths of peace.
SERMON VIII.
" The angel of the Lord appeared unto him in a flame of fire out of the
midst of a bush: and he looked, and, behold the bush burned with fire,
and the bush was not consumed ; and Moses said, I will now turn aside
and see this great sight, why the bush is not burnt." — Exodus, iii. 2, 3.
Wheiv the shepherds were engaged in watching over
their flocks, upon the plains of Bethlehenn, the Almighty
discovered to them the birth of the Lord Jesus Christ : and
put them in the possession of those directions, by the light
of which they were conducted to his immediate presence.
So in the instance before us, Moses was engaged in the
same employment, keeping the flock of Jethro and leading
them to feed in those places in which the pasture was most
luxuriant and abundant.
Sometimes indeed an instance occurs, in which Jehovah
reveals himself to those wlio are in open hostility with
heaven, and engaged in sin of the most heinous nature.
This was the case with Saul of Tarsus; he was arrested
by the power of divine grace, at a time in which he was
endeavouring to subvert the kingdom of the Redeemer, and
to dethrone the precious Lamb of God. But in general,
brethren, mortals are more frequently blessed with divine
illumination, when occupied in their proper calling; or
when sitting like Bartimeus, by the highway side of the
Gospel. What an insignificance does the revelation which
God was pleased to make to Moses at Horeb, stamp upon
earthly grandeur ! The first forty years of his life were
spent at Pharaoh's court, in which he occupied one of the
400 SERMONS.
chief seats in the palace of that monarch, and was distin-
guished as a prince ! Still notwi-thstanding his elevated
rank, no particular discoveries of the divine intention with
respect to Israel were made to him. They were reserved
for a moment, in which he was to fill one of the most hum-
ble stations in human life, the shepherd of his father's flock.
Retirement, my beloved hearers, is friendly to a commu-
nion with God ! It is then that our passions are calm, and
we are best prepared to cultivate an acquaintance with
the Father of our spirits. At a moment like this, when sur-
rounded by the sheep which were feeding near Mount
Horeb, God appeared to Moses in a burning bush, and dele-
gated him to deliver Israel from the bondage of Egypt,
and to conduct them through the wilderness to the
promised land. At that period he no doubt expected to
have continued in his humble employment until death
should have introduced him into the presence of God. Let
those, therefore, whose situations are not as elevated as
many who perhaps may be less meritorious, rest contented
until God shall be pleased to call them to more conspicu-
ous stations, and to place them where their usefulness may
be more extensively beneficial.
In the elucidation of this subject, 1 shall show you in the
first place, what was intended by the burning bush.
Secondly, account for the miracle which it exhibited; and
then close with some practical inferences. I am therefore
to show you, in the first place, what was intended by the
burning bush. The state and condition of the afflicted
Israelites was no doubt represented under this similitude. —
The oppression under which they laboured was very great,
and no eflfort which could conduce to their destruction was
left untried by their tyrannic masters. " They made their
lives bitter with hard bondage, and all the service wherein
they made them to serve, was marked with the most ex-
treme rigor and despotism." So far were they from opposing
the commands of those to whom they were subject, that
they peacefully yielded to all the burthens imposed upon
them; indeed they possessed no more ability to resist their
SERMONS. 401
enemies, than a thorny bush has to resist the action of sur-
rounding flames. Still, notwithstanding these things, they
were not only preserved, but absolutely increased in num-
bers ; for in proportion to the persecutions with which they
had to struggle, they multiplied and grew. Again, the
Church of God in the world is also represented under the
similitude of the burning bush. The Christian Church, at
the period of its first establishment, was overwhelmed with
the most severe persecutions; the Lord Jesus Christ, its
celestial founder, with almost all his family of disciples,
suffered death in the promotion of the important cause in
which they had embarked : but although the bush was
literally in a flame during the time alluded to, it was not
consumed. Christianity spread the most when labouring
under the greatest oppression. The blood of the Martyrs
has ever proved the seed of the Church. They who in the
difl^erent ages since its establishment have taken counsel
against the Lord, and against his anointed, have uniformly
found that they have imagined a vain thing; and we are
confident in asserting that though all the powers of the
world should unite to effect its destruction, they would be
foiled in their attempts; "the Lord would laugh them to
scorn; Jehovah would hold them in derision." The Almighty
has established his Son upon the hill of Zion, and before
him every knee shall bow, and unto him shall every tongue
confess. Again, — the similitude of the burning bush is
expressive of the experience of every true believer. At
the first view of the experience of the faithful follower of
the Saviour, we might be induced to think that his life
would form one continued scene of enjoyment, that no
troubles would impede his progress, no calamities mark
his life. But when we reflect upon those effects arising from
prosperity, and observe the consequences attendant upon
an exemption from distress; when we observe that pros-
perity attaches man to the world, and renders him forget-
ful of his Maker, we then see that affliction is an evidence
of the love of God ; a proof that we are not forgotten by
our heavenly Father. Yes, when the hand of the Almighty
402 SERMONS.
is laid upon the Christian, aud one affliction is permitted to
follow on the heel of another — when his earthly comforts
are laid waste, — he recognizes in the chastisement a father's
hand — and exultingly exclaims, "it is the Lord, let him do
what seemeth him good !" He finds that every calamity
with which he is visited serves to break his hold from the
world, and influences him to lay up his treasure in heaven.
He perceives that all things beneath the sun are transitory:
he therefore sets his affections on things above, and presses
onward for the prize of eternal joys. It is also declared in
Scripture, and our knowledge of the world assures us of its
truth, " that all wlio will live godly in Christ Jesus, shall
suflTer persecution." Abandon that path in which the un-
godly tread, — enter upon the performance of duties in
which they are unwilling to engage, — strive to devote your
time and talents exclusively to the service of your master ;
lift up your voice against the prevailing vices of the day,
and insist upon a conformity to God's laws; tell the world-
ling that he cannot serve God and mammon, and that he
must become a new creature: — and though your life may be
as pure as that of an angel, the world will persecute and
afflict you ; they will hedge up your way with thorns, and
embitter your moments by the most cruel observations.
They cannot indeed stone the follower of Jesus to death,
nor deprive him of his existence; but as far as their power
extends, so far will their exertions be used to persecute,
harrass, and distress you. This was the system of conduct
pursued with respect to the Lord Jesus, and if they have
persecuted him, they will also, as he has asserted, persecute
you. But praised be God, these things excite in the mind
of the believer a wish to be more faithful to his trust. The
furnace in which he is tried, instead of destroying him,
purifies his mind from the dross of his corruptions ; his graces
grow in proportion to his sufferings, and he is driven nearer
to his God. The bush may be in a blaze, but Jehovah
will not permit it to be consumed. Having thus shown
you what was intended by the burning bush, I am, second-
ly, to account for the miracle which it exhibited.
SERMONS. 403
When Moses first beheld the important scene; when he
drew near and looked upon the bush, and perceived that
it was neither injured, nor consumed by the fire, his aston-
ishment was raised to the highest degree. That astonishment
and surprise, however, was soon removed, when he was ad-
dressed by the Almighty from the flames which he beheld,
and discovered that God himself was in the bush. Some
have thought that it was an angel, a created being who
appeared to MoSes ; others that it was the Saviour, the
second person in the adorable Trinity. This latter opin-
ion appears to be founded in truth, as Saint Stephen, who
in mentioning this solemn event in the seventh chapter of
the Acts, has informed us that God sent Moses by the hand
of the angel. This angel then must have been the Lord
Jesus, who has said " I and my Father are one," and who
proclaimed to Moses that it was the God of Abraham, the
God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob, who addressed him.
No created being could have presumed to assume these
solemn titles. It would have been the most daring blas-
phemy for any creature, however elevated in the scale of
existence, to have called himself Jehovah. It must there-
fore have been the angel of the covenant; that Divine
Being who, in all the appearances of God to man, assumed
the human or angelic shape; thus by preparing the world
for the fuller manifestation of himself, in his incarnate and
mediatorial state.
It was the presence of the Saviour with the [sraelites,
which prevented their destruction ! He was in the bush,
and therefore the bush was not consumed ! Christ was
certainly with the Israelites before he became incarnate,
and took our flesh upon him, protecting them from danger
and strengthening them under their complicated difficul-
ties. The rock in the wilderness, which furnished the
famishing tribes with water, was a type of Christ ; for " they
drank of that rock which followed them, and that rock was
Christ." It is to be presumed that they were not permitted
to address their complaints to Pharaoh, however severe
the treatment which they received from their task-masters.
404 SERMONS.
Scarcely could one sufferer venture to express his distresses
to another, lest the accents of his grief should have arrested
the notice of his keepers and procured for him an increase
of difficulty. But observe the goodness of God. Their
silent prayers were heard by him who reigns in heaven !
The sufferings of an afflicted people ascended before the
throne of God, and claimed the attention of Jehovah. "I
have heard their cry by reason of their task-masters, I
know their sorrows, and am come to deliver them." After
their escape from Egypt, the Saviour was with them in
the pillar of a cloud ; in that he dwelt, not for a short
time, as in the bush, but for forty years. This cloud was
brighter and more refulgent by night than in the day, for
during the absence of the sun it had the appearance of a
flaming fire. This was their guide in pathless deserts,
through which they had to pass ; whenever it moved, the
hosts of Israel struck their tents and marched forward ; and
the moment it halted, they again formed their camp and
went to rest. How true is it, tbat "the Lord will create
upon every dwelling-place of mount Zion, and upon all
her assemblies, a cloud of smoke by day, and the shining of
a flaming fire by night; for upon all the glory shall be a
defence !"
The Saviour was also with them at the Red Sea, fur-
nishing them with a safe passage through its bosom, and
overwhelming Pharaoh and his hosts in the returning wa-
ters ! It is the same presence which preserves the Church,
and every individual member of which it is composed.
The Saviour assured hisdisciples that he would accompany
them in the discharge of their ministerial duties, witliout
the least intermission of his care. " Lo, I am with you
always, even to the end of the world." I am with you
to bear you up in the arms of my love, that you may be
unwearied in well-doing. I am with you to give success
to your labours, and to accompany your preaching with a
demonstration of the Spirit and of power, to make it elFec-
tual to the pulling down the strong holds of Satan, and of
building up believers in the faith of the Gospel ! 1 am
SEEMONS. 405
with you upon the Sabbath, to render my word a savour
of life unto life; and I am with you at the beds of the
sick and of the dying, to seal your admonitions and to
sanctify your prayers. " I am with you always /" I
may hide myself for a moment, but I will never be ab-
sent from you to the end of the world. It is thus that
Jesus, by his presence in the bush, secures it from destruc-
tion ; and it is by this means that " the gates of hell shall
never prevail against it." Yes, brethren, and he dwells
also in the hearts of all his faithful people ; he is their
life, and whatsoever they do of a nature acceptable to
God, it is done through the influence of divine grace, so
that the believer may say with Paul, " I live, yet not I, but
Christ liveth in me." It is from the assurance of his pre-
sence, that we are encouraged to press forward through
every difficulty, and are told, that when we pass through
the waters he will be with us, and that when we go through
the fire we shall not be burned, neither shall the flarne
kindle upon us ; for " God is in the midst of her, she shall
not be moved; God shall help her, and that right early."
Having attended to the two propositions of my discourse
I am to close with some practical inferences. When Moses
beheld the miracle of the burning bush, he said, " I will
now turn aside and see this great sight, why the bush is not
burnt." Let us imitate his example, and with the profound-
est reverence draw near and attend to the instruction
which it affords.
First, you may perceive in it the great affection which
the Saviour bears to his Church. Are the faithful minis-
ters of the Lord Jesus sometimes discouraged, in conse-
quence of the trials with which they meet? Let them
recollect, that it is through much tribulation they are to
enter into the kingdom of heaven. All who have obtained
the approbation of the Almighty, have passed the same
way, and have found the crown of life closely connected
with the cross. Let them be faithful unto death, and they
will be received with "Well done, good and faithful ser-
vants."
406 SERMONS.
Observe, secondly, the affection of the Saviour to his
members. When labouring under distress, we are some-
times tempted to think that the Lord hath absented him-
self forever, and that Jehovah hath forgotten to be gra-
cious! Remember, in such an hour of trial, that the Lord
is at hand, and that it is the weakness of our faith which
obscures our view of his presence. Never was the
Almighty more sensibly present with the three faithful He-
brews, than when they were committed by their enemies to
the flames. He was with them in the furnace, and preserved
them unhurt in the midst of the devouring fire ! The
bush was in a blaze, yet it escaped without injury. Never
was the blessed Jesus more beloved by his Father, than in
the moment in which he was on his knees in Gethsemane,
sweatins;, as it were, great drops of blood, and crying out
in agony of spirit, " My God, why hast thou forsaken me ?"
"Trust, then," I entreat you, "in the Lord forever, for in
the Lord Jehovah is everlasting strength."
Finally; reflect for a moment upon the different situa-
tion of those who love God, and of those who live in dis-
obedience to his laws. To those who have bowed them-
selves before the sceptre of divine love, Jehovah will be as
a wall of fire, to protect and shield them from every evil;
for " I will be unto Jerusalem, saith the Lord, a wall of
fire round about, and will be the glory in the midst of
her." Not only a hedge, such as he raised around Job;
not only walls and bulwarks, which may be battered down
and destroyed ; not only a mountain, which may be gotten
over; but he will be a wall of fire, which can neither be
broken through nor undermined ; a wall which cannot be
approached without danger to an assailant; and God him-
self will be that wall, not only on one side, but round about
on every side. To those who refuse to submit to his right-
eous authority, and will not have the Almigjity to rule
over them, our God will prove a consuming fire, for " the
wicked shall be turned into hell," " where the worm dieth
not, and the fire never shall be quenched." Seek then, I
beseech you, " the good-will of him who dwelt in the
BERuons. 407
bush," and though the heavens shall be rolled up like a
scroll, and the elements melt with fervent heat, you will be
secure amidst the general conflagration, and be advanced
to that region of happiness where sorrow and sighing find
no admission, and where every tear shall be wiped from
your eyes.
SERMON IX
" He hath sent me to heal the broken-hearted, to preach deliverance to
the captives, and recovering of sight to the blind, to set at liberty them
that are bruised." — St. Lukb, iv. 18.
When we seriously and attentively reflect upon those
benevolent principles which constitute the Christian dis-
pensation, in how amiable and commanding a light does the
gospel of Christ Jesus appear. The Almighty, instead of
pouring upon a guilty world the vials of his wrath ; instead
of arising in awful majesty to take vengeance upon the
disobedient, he appears to our view in the attractive tender-
ness of a parent, commiserating our blindness and per-
verseness, and providing a remedy for our relief. By him
an immaculate lamb hath been prepared to make an atone-
ment for transgression, in whom •• mercy and truth have
met together, righteousness and peace have kissed each
other."
Animated with the glowing subject of redemption,
the inspired prophets struck the lyre of celestial joy.
When proclaiming to a ruined world the appearance
of the Son of God, they represent him as the Saviour
of the penitent ; the friend of the distressed ; the phy-
sician of the sin-sick soul. To secure the confidence
of mankind in his wisdom, and to call their attention
to those dispositions of mercy which would mark his
life, they represent him as " a wonderful counsellor," " the
mighty God, the everlasting Father, the Prince of Peace.'*
They speak of him as the light of the world; that Being
SEBMONS. 409
through whose sacred influences the wilderness of the world
should be divested of its moral darkness, and the desert of
the human mind be made to blossom as the rose. " Be-
hold," says Isaiah, " my servant, whom I uphold, mine
elect, in whom my soul delighteth ; a bruised reed shall he
not break, and smoking flax shall he not quench." " He
shall feed his flock like a shepherd, he shall gather the
lambs with his arms, and carry them in his bosom." "I
will bring the blind by a way which they knew not, I will
lead them in paths which they have not known." (Jere-
miah, also, animated with the same sensations, thus intro-
duces the Saviour to our view : " Behold the days cOme,
saith the Lord, that I will raise unto David a righteous
branch, and a king shall reign and prosper, and shall exe-
cute judgment and justice in the earth. In his day Judah
shall be saved, and Israel shall dwell safely, and this is his
name whereby he shall be called, The Lord our righteous-
ness.) In perfect agreement with the language of prophecy,
Jesus, the Redeemer, descended from the courts of heaven
to preach peace on earth and good will to men. To emanci-
pate our ruined race from the dominion of sin and hell form-
ed the object of his mission. To open a way for our escape
from the ruin of the fall, and to conduct us to glory, he took
our nature upon him ; he atoned for our transgression by
an offering of his own body on the cross, and irradiated the
world with the light of divine instruction. Yes, with the
language of reconciliation upon his lips, the messenger of
the covenant of grace and mercy appeared : — " He hath
sent me to heal the broken-hearted, to preach deliverance
to the captives, and the recovery of sight to the blind."
At such a declaration of mercy the heart of man should
dilate with gratitude, and in a burst of joy should welcome
his«approach. " Amen, even so, come Lord Jesus. Bless-
ing, and honour, and glory, and power, be unto him that
sitteth upon the throne, and to the Lamb forever."
That truths of the most important nature are contained
in the specific declarations of the text, must appear evi-
dent to all who are disposed to reflect. That there are
kk2
410
certain situations in which man nnay be involved, to which
those declarations are peculiarly appropriate, is a self-evi-
dent truth; a truth known to all who are acquainted with
the divine life, and who have experienced the exercises of
mind to which they immediately refer. I shall, therefore,
endeavour, with that aid which I shall derive from the sacred
writings, to explain each particular feature of my subject ;
and may God, in infinite mercy, sanctify it to us all, and ren-
der it conducive to the comfort of the sincere inquirer.
" He hath sent me to heal the broken hearted." It fre-
quently occurs that the human mind, when first convinced
of sin, becomes so oppressed with a sense of personal trans-
gression (and in the expression of personal transgression I
include the omission of our duty to God) that all the as-
surances of mercy with which the page of revelation
abounds, fail in communicating that relief which they are
intended to convey. The soul, under such circumstances,
becomes exceeding sorrowful; involving the individual
sometimes in the most extreme distress. As the convinced
sinner knows that he hath olTended God, and as God has
declared himself the avenger of sin, his mind becomes
tremblingly alive to his situation, and his distress bows him
to the earth. It was this part of religious experience to
which David alludes in the fifty-first Psalm, in which he
speaks of a broken and a contrite heart. From the gene-
ral tenor of that portion of sacred writ, it is evident that
the light of the divine countenance was withdrawn from
the mind of the Psalmist, and that he was involved in the
deepest darkness. "I acknowledge my transgression," said
the royal sutferer, " and my sin is ever before me." It is
recorded of Philip, the renowned king of Macedon, that in
order to prevent the victories he had achieved from inspi-
ring his mind with pride, he commanded his page to address
him every morning with this salutation, " Philip, remember
thou art a man." In the same way, when the Spirit of
God exercises its power upon the soul, that power evidences
its existence and presence, by giving the individual who
feels its influence, a humiliating view of himself, and by
SERMONS. 411
proclaiming, in a voice that will be heard, man — woman —
remember thou art a sinner. Jt is thought, by the world,
that to speak of the conviction of sin, is an evidence of men-
tal weakness ; a principle unknown to any but to the poor
and illiterate. David, it must be acknowledged, was a great
man, elevated not only in rank, but also in the powers of
his understanding. His conscience, however, was placed
in his bosom for the same purposes for which it is placed in
the bosoms of the poorest individual, and, when it ascend-
ed its throne, asserted its rights, and condemned him for his
sin, and produced in his mind the most humiliating view of
himself. *' I acknowledge my transgression, and my sin is
ever before me."
Jehovah, remember, has but one mode of procedure with
mankind. The law of repentance is equally binding upon
all ; the rich and the poor must in that particular meet to-
gether, for " except we repent, we must all likewise
perish."' David, therefore, humbled himself before God;
he descended from his chair of state, and took that place
which became him as an offender against heaven, — the
place and posture of a penitent. That his distress of mind
was great, is evident from the language of his prayer,
" Cast me not away from thy presence, and take not thy
Holy Spirit from me;" " make me to hear of joy and glad-
ness, that the bones which thou hast broken may rejoice;"
" restore unto me the joy of thy salvation, and uphold me
with thy free Spirit." " Thou desirest not sacrifice, else
would I give it thee; the sacrifice of God is a broken
spirit : a broken and contrite heart, O God, thou wilt not
despise."
Similar, brethren, were the exercises of the Phillippian
jailor ; who, in his distress of mind, sought instruction at
the lips of Paul. " What shall I do to be saved ?" Observe
the urgency of his inquiry; he came trembling to the apostle;
his heart condemned him, and as he knew that the knowl-
ledge which Jehovah had of his sins was more accurate
than his own, his fears were excited, and he sought a
remedy for the evil under which he laboured. He felt con-
412 SERMONS.
vinced that something must be done, and done immediately.
The concerns of eternity rested upon his mind, and awa-
kened his attention. He did not ask what may be done
for me, but his inquiry was, what shall I do ? " Sirs, what
must I do to be saved ?" Though sensations of distress and
alarm are permitted to exercise their influence for a season,
yet we shall find, from the effects which they produce, in
weaning us from sin and attaching us to our duty, that they
are the evidences of divine love. *' Sorrow endureth for a
night, but joy comelh in the morning." The alarms of the
awakened sinner will be removed, the doubts under which
he laboured respecting his acceptance with God will sub-
side. By attending to the assurances of mercy to the
penitent, he will reap that comfort of which they are so
full. " Come unto me all ye who labour and are heavy
laden," will inspire his heart with confidence. " Blessed are
they that mourn, for they shall be comforted," will kindle
in his bosom the sincerest joy. " He hath sent me to heal
the broken hearted," will dispel his doubts, restore him to
peace, and tranquilize his mind.
I would not be understood to say, that the conviction of
sin must in all cases be as great as David experienced. But
thus much, brethren, 1 will affirm, that as we have all
offended God, and withheld from him that homage to which
he is entitled; that as we have permitted the world and
its delusive pleasures to hold the chief place in our affec-
tions; that as we have profaned his name, violated his
Sabbaths, forgotten our obligations of gratitude, and resisted
the strivings of his Spirit ; that as we have fallen into those
sins, we must be convinced o{ our errors, and pai7ied at
the recollection of them, before we will be disposed to re-
pent, and to seek the pardon and forgiveness of offended
heaven. The persuasion of our ingratitude to God will ex-
cite such an alarm for our future safety, and give rise to
such distressing sensations in our minds, that we shall rejoice
to hear that the " Lord Jesus came to heal the broken-
hearted."
The mind of man is not only subjected to that anxiety
SERMONS. 413
arising from the tumult of an awakened conscience, but
temporal distress is also permitted to assail him ; and it is
in the season of trouble that the Christian derives the most
solid comfort from the promises of religion, and finds the
Redeemer precious to his soul. At those periods in which
he is labouring under the pressure of the deepest distress;
when the winds of tribulation, and the waters of adversity
are sapping the foundation of his temporal comforts, and
prostrating in the dust the objects of his regard ; when the
friend of his bosom is snatched from his embrace ; when
the children of his affection are torn from his arms, and the
thunders of distress are rolling over his head ; when in
agony of mind he cries aloud, " hath God forgotten to be
gracious, is his mercy clean gone forever?" — it is then that
the Saviour steps in to his relief, and by the application of
his word, hushes into a calm the tempest of his grief: "It
is I, thy Redeemer, be not afraid:" " Can a woman forget
her sucking child, that she should not have compassion on
the son of her womb ? Yea, they may forget, yet will I
never forget thee." Encouraged by the promises, he an-
ticipates the period when he shall see them again in glory,
and meet them in that happy region where every tear will
be wiped from his eye. Under the influence of such con-
soling reflections his distresses are appeased; he trims his
lamp; he presses with increased ardour toward the mark;
he sets his affections on things above ; he concludes with
Paul that " the sufferings of this present life are not worthy
to be compared with the glory which shall be revealed;" he
believes that all things shall work together for his good;
and that distress itself, by weaning him from the world, will
fit him for the enjoyment of heaven. It is by virtue of this
hope; a hope which he would not exchange for worlds — a
hope emanating from the Gospel, that the Saviour speaks
peace to his mind, and " heals the broken-hearted."
That the conduct of the Redeemer was marked with
the strongest features of benevolence, every miracle that he
wrought forms a conclusive testimony. An ostentatious
display of his divine authority was in no instance made: it
414 asRUoi^s.
was to relieve the distressed, and to comfort the mourner^
that the order of nature was reversed, and that his omni*
potence was discovered. Witness his sympathy and affec-
tion at the grave of Lazarus ; see the tear of sensibility
rolling down his cheek, even at the moment in which he
summoned him from the grave, and restored him to his
disconsolate sisters ; behold him stopping the procession of
the widow's only son, reanimating with his word the life-
less clay, and speaking into silence a mother's pangs; and
you will be convinced that he came to " heal the broken-
hearted."
The words of our text inform us that the Redeemer is
not only possessed of power to calm the distresses of the
human heart, but that he came to break the bonds of our
corruptions, and to rescue the penitent from the oppressive
arm of sin and Satan: " He came to preach deliverance to
the captives."
Man is spoken of in the Old Testament as a fallen crea-
ture, with " the thoughts of his heart only evil continually,"
and by St. Paul as being " carnally minded," at " enmity
with God." However humiliating the consideration of hu-
man depravity; however opposed the pride of mortals may
be to the fact, still as it is a principle revealed in the word
of God, and confirmed by daily observation, it is impossible
to refuse it a place in our minds. Although man may ac-
knowledge the propriety and beauty of virtue ; although
he may approve things that are excellent, and venerate
and respect those who are obedient to the divine com-
mands; yet we find, brethren, that his practice, until he is
renewed by the Holy Spirit, is opposed to the conviction
of his understanding, and his life at variance with the pre-
cepts of holiness. His compliance, therefore, with the sin-
ful propensities of his nature, is a conclusive proof that he
is in bondage to Satan, for " to whom (says the Apostle,)
ye yield yourselves servants to obey, his servants ye are
to whom ye obey." To emancipate man from this awful
servitude; to break those fetters with which he is bound,
and to set the prisoner at liberty, did the Lord Jesus de-
SERMON^. 415
scend from heaven ; " he came to preach deliverncce to
the captives ;*' to show them the source from which to ob-
tain every necessary assistance; to furnish them with that
divine armour which will shield them from those fiery darts,
the temptations of the devil ; to invest them with power to
subdue their sinful passions, and to make them more than
conquerors through his grace.
How often hath it happened in the life of every Chris-
tian, that prior to his conviction of the weakness of his
moral powers, he determined to abandon every improper
pursuit, and^toconform his life to the precepts of virtue. But
as his resolutions were founded upon his own strength, they
evaporated into air, and were productive of no lasting, no
effectual change in his habits; after relapsing into the com-
mission of sin, he has resolved again and again, to correct
his errors, and to order his conversation aright ; but how-
ever sincere his intentions, he has uniformly discovered
that upon a recurrence of temptation, he has yielded to
the suggestions of Satan, violated his solemn vows, and
stamped impotency upon his best determinations.
The knowledge and experience of his weakness, a
knowledge derived from the influence of grace upon his
heart, taught him at last the useful lesson of humility.
Perceiving from those frequent deviations from virtue which
marked his life, that provided he wished to persevere in
holiness, he must obtain assistance superior to any he had
hithei:to possessed, he consulted the oracles of God, and
found that the Redeemer declared " Without me ye can
do nothing ; as the branch cannot bear fruit of itself unless
it abide in the vine, no more can ye except ye abide in
me." Possessed of this information, he no longer trusted in
his own strength, the broken reed of his own moral powers,
but repaired to the only fountain from which every good
and perfect gift proceedeth. In ardent supplication he
looked up to heaven for assistance. " Teach me to do
thy will, for thou art my God." " Lead me forth in thy truth
and guide me, thou who art the God of my salvation."
*' My soul cleaveth to the dust, quicken thou me, O Lord,
416 SERMONS.
according to thy word." The compassionate Jesus, true to
his promises, listened to his prayer; he invigorated his mind
by his grace,;and nerved the suppliant's arm. His progress
then became comparatively easy; every step that he ad-
vanced in the divine life, produced an increase of happi-
ness. His soul became more and more athirst for God ; " for-
getting those things which were behind," not satisfied with
past attainments, "he pressed forward toward the mark for
the prize of his calling of God in Christ Jesus." The powers
of temptation become more and more languid, and agreea-
bly to the language of the Psalmist, " the snare was
broken, and he was delivered."
As our rel ief from sin can only be found in the Lord
Jesus Christ ; as " there is no other name under heaven,
whereby we can be saved ;" *'as the wages of sin is death,"
and as a life of transgression must eventuate in the ruin of
the soul, let us fly upon the wings of penitence to that Being
who came to preach deliverance to the captives. Say not,
I beseech you, that some future day will answer the pur-
poses of reformation; the present time is all that we can
call our own. "Boast not thyself of to-morrow, for thou
knowest not what a day may bring forth." Do you re-
quire an instance of an individual who was liberated from
the bondage alluded to, to confirm your hopes, and to ani-
mate you in the struggle, look at Paul; he felt all the
weakness that we can possibly feel, and under its influence
exclaimed, "Who shall shall deliver me from the body of
this death ? Thank God, through Jesus Christ our Lord !"
To me, "to live is Christ, and to die is gain." " I can do
all things through Christ, who strengtheneth me."
The text informs us that the office of the Saviour was
not confined to the duties of healing the broken heart-
ed, and preaching deliverance to the captives, but also to
give the recovery of sight to the blind. That the
Gentile world was involved in the grossest darkness, with
respect to the natuie and attributes of Deity, at the
time of the advent of the Messiah, is a truth known to
all conversant with profane history, and that the Gospel
SERMONS. 417
has afforded us the clearest light upon the subject, every in-
genuous mind must acknowledge. The boasted wisdom of
many of the ancient Philosophers, proves to us the limited
faculties of man; and shows us how dependent we are upon
religion for every information connected with the divine
character.
Consult the school of Aristotle, and you will find, that so
far from acknowledging God as the creator of all things,
they maintained that the world was from eternity, and
that every thing was what it now is. Listen to the school
of Epicurus, and they will tell you that the universe was
formed by a fortuitous concourse of atoms, which accident-
ally assumed the present form. Go into the city of Athens
and see the blindness of that people at the period in which
the Redeemer appeared. With all the aids they could ob-
tain from human research, at Athens, a place considered
as the empire of light, the monopoly of wisdom, behold them
worshipping an unknown god; erecting altars to imaginary
deities, and prostrating themselves at the feet of senseless
idols. Christ Jesus came to give recovery of sight to the
blind ; to unveil to the view of man the great Eternal; to
teach him the true philosophy; — " him, whom ye ignorant-
ly worship," said the Apostle, " declare we unto you."
The declaration of the text, however, is not confined to
blindness of that description; it embraces the case of those
who close their eyes against the light of the Gospel — who
would rush naked and defenceless into the presence of that
God who out of Christ is a consuming fire ; who would trust
to the mercy of heaven, when that mercy is at variance
with the attribute of divine justice ; who will not accept of
the offers of salvation upon Gospel terms; who deny that
Being '' who was made sin for us, that we might be made
the righteousness of God in him ;" who defer that pursuit of
happiness until to-morrow, which should be commenced to-
day ; who resist the pleadings of divine grace, and set omni-
potence at defiance. Such, beloved, is the case of the of-
fender against God, and such was the situation of Paul
himself; he saw no comeliness in the Saviour that he should
418 5ER3I0NS.
desire him; he trusted to his own righteousness; he expected
that his own imperfect morality would secure the salva-
tion of his soul ; he was unwilling to submit to the empire
of Jesus, or to be saved by his blood. But God who is rich
in mercy, pitied his infatuation, and rescued him from des-
truction ; his eyes were opened by the Spirit of God ; the
rays of redeeming love were reflected upon his mind, and
the man who was engaged in levelling to the earth the
system of Christianity, laid down the weapons of his rebel-
lion at the foot of Calvary ; embarked in the cause of the
Gospel; "proclaimed among the Gentiles the unsearcha-
ble riches of Christ, opening their eyes and turning them
from darkness to light, and from the power of Satan unto
God/'
To conclude. "He came to heal the broken hearted."
Should any of you be labouring under a conviction of sin
should your minds be oppressed with sorrow at the recol-
lection of your ingratitude to God ; take comfort, I beseech
you from the existence of that sorrow in ycur hearts, and
fly in supplication to that Saviour who died for your salva-
tion. It is through the influences of his Spirit that you
have been brought to reflect ; it is through the light of
divine grace that you see your unworthiness, and that you
feel weary and heavy laden. Christ thus forms the source
of your relief, the present and eternal refuge of his people.
Mourner in Zion, be at rest, for " blessed are they that
mourn, for they shall be comforted." The knowledge you
possess of your unworthiness, is the greatest blessing God
could have bestowed upon j'ou ; it has made you feel the
value of the Saviour, and has led you to a throne of grace
for mercy. Should any of you be convinced that you have
been led captive by Satan; that you have listened to his
temptations; that you have turned your backs upon God,
and resisted the pleadings of his grace; that you have pre-
ferred the world to the duties of religion, fly to him who is
mighty to save. Christ Jesus will deliver you from the
tyranny of sin, and rescue you from the oppressive power
SERMONS. 419
of Satan. " He came to preach deliverance to the cap-
tive."
Should any of you be labouring under spiritual blindness,
ignorant of the plan of redemption ; should any of you wish
to be instructed in the truths of Christianity ; anxious to
know the manner in which Jehovah can be just, and yet
the justifier of him against whom the violated law of God
pronounces destruction, fly to Jesus Christ and entreat for
divine illumination ; cry aloud, " Lord that I may receive
my sight," and that Saviour who came to give recovery
of sight to the blind, will hear your prayer and enable you
to comprehend the plan of salvation, and see its perfect
adaptation to the situation of all mankind.
Beloved, in the Redeemer there is salvation for all who
will seek it in sincerity of heart; his blood will cleanse the
most polluted, and render the vilest offender pure in the
sight of God. " Seek him then while he maybe found,
call upon him while he is near," and you will discover that
he is able and willing to save all men to the uttermost, who
come unto God by him ; seeing he ever liveth to make in-
tercession for them — he will afford you present comfort, and
after death receive you into glory.
SERMON X.
" God be merciful to me a sinner." — Luke, xviii. 13.
Humility of heart is an unfailing attendant upon the
religion of the Redeemer: it is the first eflbct produced
in the mind by divine grace, and forms the best evidence
we can give the world of our acquaintance with God and
with ourselves. A self-justifying spirit flows not from the
fountain of the Gospel: it is the offspring of human pride,
the enemy of true religion. That person who really knows
himself, and is thoroughly acquainted with his own heart,
must be sensible that his imperfections are very numerous;
and that his personal virtues fall so short of the purity of
the Gospel, and the requisitions of the divine law, that he
is indebted to the mercy of God for the continuance of his
existence, and his escape from destruction.
Under a conviction of his own unworthiness, the sincere
Christian always approaches the footstool of the Almighty;
his own infirmities claim his continual attention; they en-
gross so much of his thoughts, they appear so magnified to
his view, that instead of condemning others, he thinks him-
self the least of all the saints, and pleads for forgiveness
through the precious blood of Christ. Like the Centurion
mentioned in the Gospel, he exclaims, " Lord I am not
worthy thou shouldestcome under my roof; speak the word
only, and I shall be healed."
SERMONS. 421
The farther that wc advance in the divine life, the more
do we become established in the principle of humility. The
nearer that we approach the Almighty, and the more we
study his perfections, the more sensible do we become to
our own failings; the closer we draw to the light the
more visible are our imperfections: our growth therefore
in grace is always attended with an increase of humility.
We compare our lives with the precepts of Scripture, and
find them so deficient that the inquiry produces a lowli-
ness of heart ; we discover that we have no ground for
boasting, but that we are really sinners and need cleansing
in the blood of Christ.
That this view is correct, is fully illustrated in the para-
ble before us; and as the representation was made by the
Saviour himself, no one can doubt that the doctrine it con-
tains is agreeable to the nature and attributes of God him-
self; purposely intended to check the advances of a self-
righteous spirit, and to countenance and support the con-
victed sinner in his humble approaches to a throne of grace.
It shows the trembling penitent that, notwithstanding that
pressure of sin which rests upon his conscience, notwith-
standing that dread of Deity with which his mind is op-
pressed, and which renders him afraid to raise his eye to
heaven, still the devout breathings of his broken heart will
not be disregarded, nor the sighing of a contrite mind be
overlooked; but before he calls, God will answer — while he
is speaking God will hear, have mercy ; pardon and forgive
him.
In order to improve the subject, and to represent some
of its beauties to your view, permit me to carry your atten-
tion to the sacred Temple.
"Two men went up to the Temple to pray; one a
Pharisee, the other a Publican. The Pharisee stood and
prayed thus with himself; God I thank thee that I am not
as other men are ; extortioners, unjust, adulterers, or even as
this Publican. I fast twice in the week, I give tithes of all
that I possess."
In all this Pharasaic harangue, there is not one essential
422 SERMOKS.
feature of prayer, not a sin is confessed, not a supplication
for pardon made. His breast was so inflated with a con-
ceit of personal merit, that he forgot the business for which
the sanctuary of Jehovah is intended, and set apart. He
came to the temple to pray; but instead of supplicating for
forgiveness, he pronounced an eulogium on himself; a
pompous declaration of performances, and of an exemption
from gross oflfences, composed his devotion. He was so
pleased with himself, that he fell in adoration at the shrine
of his own excellencies ; and instead of worshipping God in
the humble accents of a disobedient child, he plead the
merit of ^his own ideal purity ; " I fast twice in the week,
1 give tithes of all that I possess." So delighted was he
with the repetition of bis own negative and ceremonial per-
fections, that when he beheld the Publican he looked upon
him with contempt; "God I thank thee that I am not as
this Publican."
Is this, I would ask, is this devotion ? Could such con-
duct become a frail mortal, when approaching a Being in
whose sight the heavens are unclean 1 Was such a temper
becoming a sinner, when appearing in the presence of a
God of holiness? The Pharisee, we acknowledge, was to
be commended for that uniformity to the moral duties of
the law which he possessed. We rejoice at that abstrac-
tion from criminal pursuits of which he spake; but was
fasting twice in the week to be plead as an atonement for
his sins 1 Was his giving of tithes to be oflercd to the Al-
mighty as an apology for his transgressions? Brethren,
there is no devotion, there is no devotion acceptable to
God, which does not embrace a conviction of our own de-
fects; a deep penitence for sin ; a renunciation of self; a
dependence upon unmerited mercy.
From a scene abounding with such arrogance and incon-
sistency, let us turn our attention to the poor convicted
Publican, and learn a lesson of instruction from his reve-
rential, his appropriate conduct. " The Publican, standing
afar off, would not lift up his eyes to heaven, but smote upon
his breast, saying, God be merciful to me a sinner." How
SERMONS. 423
descriptive is this representation of the feelings of every
true penitent! Drawn by the pencil of the Redeenaer, it
pourtrays in glowing colours the ardent and tumultuous
breathings of a contrite heart. He stood afar off: con-
vinced of his own unworthiness, he was afraid to approach
too near, lest the altar of the Most High God should have
been polluted by his presence. Like the inquirer spoken
of by Micah, he was anxious to throw himself at the feet of
his Maker, and to solicit pardon at the hands of his offended
Judge ; but the knowledge of his unworthiness arrested him
at the door of the sanctuary, and threw him into confusion :
" Wherewith shall I come before the Lord, and bow myself
before the High God 1 will the Lord be pleased with thou-
sands of rams, or with. ten thousand of rivers of oil? shall I
give my first born for my transgression, the fruit of my body
for the sin of my soul ?"
Humbled under the conviction of his offences, with his
heart bleeding at every pore, the Pharisee should have step-
ped forward to sustain the fainting spirit of the Publican, and
to hold up to his distracted and distressed mind the promises
of religion. Was there no other feature in the conduct of
the Pharisee to convince us that his heart had never been
softened by divine grace, his want of feeling for his distressed
fellow-mortal is conclusive proof against him. The Pharisee
saw him, but instead of taking him by the hand and encourag-
ing his hopes, he looked upon him with contempt and abhor-
rence: "Stand by thyself, for I am holier than thou:"
''God, I thank thee that I am not as this Publican."
Had an angel at that moment descended from the courts
of bliss, that angel would have shown the Pharisee his mis-
take; he would have stripped the veil from the deluded
mortal's eyes, and rebuked him for his boldness; he
would have said, Proud mortal, thou art mistaken in
thy views; yon dejected Publican, sinful as he acknowl-
edges himself to be, is nearer to the throne of mercy than
thyself. While thou art trusting that thou art righteous,
placing thy confidence upon the performance of a few in-
considerable duties, paying tithes of mint, anise and cum-
min, and neglecting the weightier matter of the law, the
424 SERMONS.
Publican is humbled before God, and intreating for mercy;
self-abased, however, as he is, he shall return to his dwell-
ing, rejoicing in the God of his salvation. His plea for
pardon cannot be rejected as long as it i? written, " Look
unto me, and be ye saved." " God be merciful to me a sin-
ner," forms a prayer more melodious in the ears of Jehovah,
than ten thousand repetitions of " God, I thank thee that
I am not as other men are." "There is joy among the
angels of God over every sinner that repenteth," and that
joy is now felt by those around the throne. Angels are
now chanting hallelujahs at the escape of the poor penitent
from condemnation, his deliverance from the power of the
destroyer. His prayer, my beloved, was heard ; his fears
were quieted; his conscience felt repose: " He went down
to his house justified rather than the other ;'^ " He humbled
himself and was exalted."
We do not discover from the parable that the Publican
was sensible of the presence of the Pharisee ; his own neces-
sities engrossed so much of his attention, that every other
consideration was overlooked. Had he observed the
Pharisee, no upbraidings, no painful comparisons would
have escaped his lips; instead of casting a reflection upon
his fellow-mortal, he would have embraced him in his
arms, oflfered up a petition in his behalf, and earnestly have
plead for the salvation of his soul.
We perceive in the Gospels that the Redeemer laboured
to suppress that spirit of self-dependence, so conspicuous in
the Pharisees; to substitute in its place a spirit of peni-
tence and contrition, and to countenance and comfort the
contrite transgressor. The disapprobation he has expressed
with respect to the self-righteous, and the woes he has
pronounced upon them, should guard us against the ad-
vancing of a spirit teeming with such fatal consequences,
and teach us to trust to the atonement alone for salvation.
In the aifecting parable of the Prodigal, the Saviour
struck at the same destructive principle; he represents to
our view the return of a penitent transgressor to the bosom
of an indulgent parent. To be restored to that seat of dig-
nity he had vacated, he did not expect ; conscious of hav-
SERMONS. 425
ing offended a parent from whom he had received the most
distinguished kindness, he addressed him in these words :
"Father, I have sinned against heaven and in thy sight,
and am unworthy to be called thy son ; make me as one
of thy hired servants." It is the deUght of a God of mercy
to forgive transgression. The prodigal obtained an evi-
dence of his acceptance; he was clothed in a new robe;
his sins were pardoned, and he was established in the affec-
tion of his father.
In the conduct of the elder brother, the Saviour describes
the repulsive, selfish, cold-hearted disposition of the Phari-
sees. Instead of receiving his penitent brother with affec-
tion; instead of imparting comfort to a mind deeply wound-
ed with a knowledge of transgression, he was displeased at
the indulgence of the father, censured him for such an ex-
tension of his mercy, and pleads his own exclusive claims to
his favour : " Lo, these many years do I serve thee, neither
transgressed I at any time thy commandment ; and yet thou
never gavest me a kid, that I might make merry with my
friends; but as soon as this thy son is come, who hath de-
voured his living with harlots, thou hast killed for him the
fatted calf"
Can Christians, who know their own deficiencies, approve
of such unfeeling conduct 1 Was the Lord extreme to mark
iniquity, where would the holiest professor stand? I appeal
to all your hearts, if the Almighty was to call the most
perfect saint existing to a strict account for all his actions,
if there was not a mercy seat to which we could fly for
shelter, to what distress should we be subjected? What
awful horrors would await us? When, therefore, we enter
the temple of the living God, let us remember that it is a
house of prayer; let us recollect that we are all sinners;
and when assembled in this sanctuary, instead of charg-
ing guilt upon those who are around us, let us examine our-
selves, and let us devote our time to the confession of our
sins, and to the most ardent supplication for forgiveness.
Again ; Before mortals are brought to a state of serious
reflection, they seldom think of their past transgressions, or
426 SERMONS.
possess a desire to ask for forgiveness ; but when the mind
becomes convinced of sin; when, in addition to the knowl-
edge of sin, the fear of consequences takes possession of our
bosoms, we immediately fly to the sacred oracles for instruc-
tion and comfort; anxious to know the extent of the di-
vine mercy, we explore with avidity the page of Revela-
tion. In those oracles — oracles so lightly esteemed by the
thoughtless — we are comforted with the assurance that the
Almighty delights not in the death of a sinner, and that
the door of mercy is open to every applicant. We there
perceive that the Lord Jesus tasted death for every man ;
that he is the propitiation and satisfaction for the sins of
the whole world ; and that whoever perishes, perishes be-
cause of his own perverseness. We there perceive that
the blood of Christ possesses sufficient efficacy to remove
the guilt of every transgression ; and that "although the
sins of the penitent have been like scarlet, they shall be
white as snow : though red like crimson, they shall be
as wool." It is not past transgression which can separate
the convicted penitent from the reach of mercy; the for-
giveness of God is as fathomless as the ocean, and as un-
bounded in its nature. It is the want of humility of heart,
the want of genuine penitence alone, which can prevent
the restoration of the sinner to the favour of God.
The publican, for aught we know, had never before pre-
sented himself in the temple; he had lived, perhaps, to-
tally unmindful of God, or of his own responsibility ; still
the moment he advanced in humility, and plead for mercy,
his plea was heard, and he obtained the object of his sup-
plication. The terms of the covenant of grace, consist in
" repentance toward God and faith in the Lord Jesus
Christ." The moment in which the penitent complies with
those principles, that instant his request will be granted,
and he will stand justified and acquitted before God. Study
the Sacred Volume, and you will find that the Saviour is
spoken of as the Saviour of sinners. " I came not," said he,
" to call the righteous, but sinners, to repentance." " The
Son of Man came to seek and to save that which was lost."
SERMONS. 427
'' This is a faithful saying, and worthy of all acceptation,
that Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners."
Various are the instances in which the aid of the Re-
deemer was solicited during his earthly ministry, and in no
one case was the applicant dismissed without a blessing.
To Mary he said, "thy sins, which are many, are for-
given thee, go in peace;" and to the poor malefactor, he
breathed the same tenderness and compassion, " This day
shalt thou be with me in paradise."
The Saviour was not influenced by what men would say
in justification of themselves; he looked at the hearts of
those who sought his favour, and, when he perceived them
filled with humility, he assisted and relieved them. The
Pharisees, who fancied themselves possessed of every vir-
tue, and who trusted to their own righteousness, uniformly
met with his disapprobation. They who despised others,
went empty away from the presence of Jesus, while hum-
ble penitents were filled with the evidences of his love and
compassion. If we wish to obtain access to the throne of
heaven, let us advance before that throne in humility; ap-
pear before God in our genuine character, which is that of
poor offenders. Let not a spirit of contempt for others
enter into our minds, but, filled with a conscious knowledge
of our own personal demerit, let us come to the Pool of Si-
loam, and wash and be clean.
Is there an individual, possessed of the spirit of the pub-
lican, in the presence of the living God this morning ? Is
there an individual, whose heart is bleeding under the con-
viction of sin ? who dare not lift up his eyes to heaven, and
whose cry is, " God be merciful to me a sinner ?" I would
say to such an individual, banish thy fears, thy supplica-
tion will be heard. " Heaven and earth shall pass away,
but the promises of God," to a sincere inquirer, " cannot
pass away." " Blessed are they that mourn, for they shall
be comforted." Never do we stand higher in the divine
estimation, than when we are lowly in our own eyes.
Never are we so much in the way of exaltation, as when
428 SERMONS.
humbled before God under a feeling sense of our own un-
worthiness.
The character of the Pharisee is sometimes applied by
the world to those whose delight it is to follow Jesus in the
way, who separate themselves from every pursuit inconsis-
tent with their profession, and who endeavour to walk
in the commandments and ordinances of the Lord. This
charge, my beloved, cannot be just, as every true Chris-
tian in his daily devotions, instead of trusting to his own
righteousness, acknowledges himself a sinner; and as a sin-
ner he supphcates God for pardon.
The Pharisee, who is embraced in our text, trusted in
himself that he was rigiitcous : recapitulated, in (he pre-
sence of Jehovah, the peculiar features of his character;
plead his conformity to the law ; justified liimself, and re-
lied upon his own performances for the salvation of his soul.
He thought himself prepared for heaven by virtue of his
own works; he felt no need of a Saviour; wished for no
interest in the atonement ; there was neither confession of
sin, nor supplication for pardon, in his address.
Until a man can plead a uniform obedience to the moral
law ; until he can say with truth, that he has never vio-
lated its injunctions, a dependence upon his own righteous-
ness would certainly be the height of folly. One crime
proved against an oifender in a court of justice, will involve
him in punishment ; and it is upon the same principle that
St. James observes to the professors of Christianity, " Who-
soever ofTcndeth in one point is guilty of the whole law."
To plead that law for our justification, which we know we
have violated, would be contrary to the analogy of reason.
The offender must put in another claim, provided he ex-
pects to escape punishment, and (hat claim must he made
upon the mercy of his judge. As offenders against God, let us,
therefore, acknowledge our sins, fly to a throne of grace,
and, in the spirit and language of the publican, solicit for-
giveness. There is pardon and forgiveness for all — " the
blood of Jesus Christ cleanseth from all sin." Let no indi-
SERMONS. 429
vidual leave the house of God this morning under an im-
pression that salvation is not attainable. Let him not say
that no atonement has been made for his sins, and that no
Saviour has been provided for him. Christ Jesus is " the
Lamb of God who taketh away the sin of the world."
He has said that " he will have ail men to be saved, and
come to the knowledge of the truth."
The moment that we assert the impossibility of salva-
vation to any of Adam's posterity, we charge the destruc-
tion of the sinner to the Almighty, and dispute the veracity
of a merciful God. When Jehovah asserts, and swears to
the truth of the assertion, " That he taketh no pleasure in
the death of a sinner," it is the height of impiety, nay it is
more than impious, to question the principle, or to doubt of
its truth. It is the fulness of the offer of mercy, that in-
spires the mind of a preacher with affection for all men ;
it warms his heart with love to God, and excites his com-
passion towards his fellow-creatures ; it inspires his heart
with a hope that his message will be attended to; that the
overtures of God's compassion will obtain a grateful recep-
tion, and that the creatures for whom the Saviour died
upon the cross will listen with gratitude, and take refuge
in his bosom. See the Redeemer, as he is suspended upon
the cross ; behold him in the act of his sufferings on Cal-
vary, and you must confess that" God is love." Hear him
in his last agonies, praying for his murderers, " Father, for-
give them," and can you doubt his tenderness for you ? To
resist such affection seems impossible. " How shall we es-
cape," said Paul, "if we neglect so great salvation?"
What apology can we offer for our sins? What plea can
the transgressor make, to arrest the judgment threatened
against iniquity ? Yes, brethren, salvation may be obtained
by all who will seek it. Such is the conviction of your
preacher, — and if it was my last breath, [ should wish to
die with the declaration of St. John upon my iips, " God is
love."
SERMON XI
" When thou passest through the waters I will be with thee ; and when
through the rivers they shall not overflow thee." — Isaiah, xliii. 2.
Before I enter on the discussion of the subject before
us, I should consider myself greatly delinquent in duty,
were I not to mention the gratification I experience, in
being restored, after a protracted and dangerous illness, to
the bosom of my family and parishioners.
The letters I received from some of you, during my ab-
sence, sensibly alleviated the distresses incident to a sick
room, (and hushed into silence the gloomy emotions of my
mind,) and entitles my kind correspondents to the tribute
of my unfeigned gratitute and respect; and the affection-
ate welcome, with which I have been greeted since my re-
turn, have made an impression my mind which language
is too feeble to express. May the Almighty impress my
heart with a due sense of his goodness towards me, and
render my labours a blessing to the people committed to
my charge ! May that same God, whose loving kindness
cheered the chamber of disease in which I was confined
with the light of his countenance, be with you and your
families in every distress, and conduct you in safety to the
mansions of eternal peace and joy !
Adversity is the season in which the Christian reflects,
with peculiar satisfaction, upon the sacred promises of Je-
SERMONS. 431
hovah. In the hour of prosperity, the world and its fleet-
ing enjoyments are too apt to attract his regard, and as
long as the sun of human happiness reflects its cheering
beams around him, the transitory pleasures of time capti-
vate his attention, and chain his affections to the earth.
But, when the heavy cloud of aflliction gathers over his
head, and the atmosphere in which he breathes is agitated
by the thunders of distress, he seeks a refuge from the
storm, and flees with rapidity to thebosomof his Redeemer
for protection.
The life of men, like the face of nature, is infinitely va-
riegated : it experiences its vicissitudes and changes, and
is visited with the genial rays of happiness, and the chill-
ing blasts of affliction ; it has its hours of sunshine, and
partakes, also, of the friendly and prolific showers of dis-
tress. In the natural world these changes are indispensably
necessary. Lightning purifies the air in which we breathe,
and the rain, which in general accompanies it, brings the
vegetable world to perfection. The sun, without the in-
fluence of showers, would scorch the face of nature with
his rays ; but, animated by their effects, the declining ver-
dure of the fields is stopt ; the drooping flowers receive
fresh strength, and evidence, in their appearance, the bene-
fits they have received. The lightning of affliction awa-
kens man from the awful lethargy of sin and inconsidera-
tion : it purifies his heart, and excites in his mind an obe-
dience to his Creator. The showers of distress water the
plant of Christianity in his bosom, and bring it to perfec-
tion. Those virtues which had declined under the influ-
ence of prosperity; those virtues which had been withered
by the sun of uninterrupted enjoyment are revived ; they
expand their beauties, they bud and blossom like the rose.
That affliction is frequently productive of such beneficial
effects, is a truth known to every observant mind ; that
affliction weans and disengages our affections from the world,
is a truth established by experience upon a basis incontro-
vertible : the salutary consequences, therefore, which are
produced by distress, are evidences of the necessity of
432 SERMONS.
human chastisement, and are undoubted proofs of the love
of God. Yes, the reformation to which they give rise,
plainly shows us that God is merciful in the midst of his
judgments; that he pitieth those who love him, as a father
pitieth his children ; and that in those very moments in
which we are passing through the waters of tribulation,
and wading through the rivers of adversity, God himself is
with us, supporting us in his own everlasting arms, and
directing our attention to eternal things. Look at the pa-
triarch Abraham, in that tremendous hour when he was
commanded by the Almighty to offer up his beloved Isaac.
In what a sea of difficulty tnust the solemn injunction have
involved him ! with what vehemence must the storm have
beaten upon his aged head ! To sacrifice the son of his
hope; to deprive his child of his existence; a son whom
he had so often embraced in his arms, and cherished in his
bosom! Could human nature, unassisted, have yielded an
assent? Could the rebellious heart of man have acquiesced
in the awful requisition? To what power could he have
been indebted for his resignation but to the power of God ?
He recollected those innumerable instances of divine love
which he had received at the hands of the Almighty, and
in the hour of his trial he remembered past mercies. The
waves of tribulation raged awfully around him, but he be-
held with the eye of faith a guardian Jehovah conducting
the storm, and his ears were saluted with this benevolent
assurance of the divine protection : " When thou passest
through the waters I will be with thee; and when through
the rivers they shall not overflow thee." Animated with
that confidence with which a belief in the promises of God
inspired his mind, he ascended Mount Moriah, and prepared
his important sacrifice; the wood was laid upon the altar,
and the sacred victim was bound. Isaac was, at that mo-
ment, dead, to the natural reason of his father; lightnings
were flashing around the aged believer, and clouds and
thick darkness hovered over him ; the knife was drawn
from its sheath, and the trembling arm of Abraham was
out?tretched. At that moment, when deliverance appear-
SERMONS. 433
ed impossible, the promise of Jehovah was fulfilled; when
his fears had reached their summit, relief was provided : —
*' Lay not thine hand upon the lad," exclaimed the God of
Sion, "and touch not mine anointed." At the voice of the
Almighty the waters of affliction withdrew ; the faith of
the Patriarch was confirmed ; he stood secure and undis-
turbed.
The same promises which supported Abraham in the
performance of his duty, are open for the comfort and en-
couragement of us; trouble must not induce us to suppose
that we are excluded from, the favour of heaven : on the
contrary, we should view it as the evidence of divine love,
and listen to the instruction which it communicates. The
heart of Abraham must have been dilated w^ith grief, but
from a conviction that the Judge of all the earth could not
do wrong, he bowed with submission to his fatherly will;
his obedience met with a sure- reward ; his sorrows were
succeeded by a return of joy, and the loveof the Almighty
shone the brighter as it emerged from the dark cloud of
tribulation. The waters of distress are placed between
heaven and mortals ; and we are expressly told that through
much tribulation we must enter into glory. Human life is
not represented to the Christian as a place of rest : the Scrip-
tures in no instance afford him such a prospect; there is a Jor-
dan between us and endless happiness; and we are exhorted
to press forward toward the prize which is set before us.
The words of our text convey to the believer's mind
the assurance of the continued presence of his Maker:
" When thou passest through the waters I will be with
thee; and when through the rivers they shall not over-
flow thee." Difficulties are here presented to the be-
liever's view; there are rivers, tremendous jn appearance,
to pass through; but why should we fear the raging of the
elements, when we are assured that Christ Jesus is direct-
ing the storm ? PVequently, indeed, like Peter of old, the
follower of Jesus finds himself sinking beneath the pressure
of his woes, his heart and his flesh fail him through fear,
the waters of sorrow immerse him in their foaming billows,
M M 2
434 SERMONS.
and in the anguish of his spirit he cries aloud, "Hath God
forgotten to be gracious ?" " Lord, save me, or I perish !"
These fears, however, are only permitted to take possession
of his bosom for a season ; they are sent to create in him a
thirst for celestial joys; to convince him of the transitory
nature of temporal comforts, and to show him his depend-
ence upon Jehovah. Stimulated by them, he views the
world and its concerns through a proper medium; he re-
members that the ties of human happiness are so easily
dissolved, that it is his interest as well as duty to become
more closely connected with his God, and to form a chain
of union with his Creator, which will enable him to brave
the storms of human life, and to ride triumphant upon the
tempestuous sea of adversity. Not that the Christian can
meet misfortune without feeling those effects naturally flow-
ing from distress, but from the pleasing conviction that his
affliction has been weighed in the balance of intinite good-
ness ; conscious that he is superintended by a Being who is
alive to his best interests ; knowing that the sorrows under
which he labours have been applied by a Father's hand,
with the intention of promoting his eternal peace, he is
enabled to prostrate himself at the feet of Jehovah, and to
say with holy resignation, "Though he slay me, yet will I
trust him :" " It is the Lord, let him do what seemeth him
good."
It is from that light, reflected upon the mind by the
Gospel of Christ, that we are enabled thus to act; it is
the Gospel of Jesus which thus irradiates with its cheering
beams the path of human tribulation. The religion of na-
ture, brethren, teaches us no such lesson; human wisdom,
with all its boasted resources, fails us in the hour of ad-
versity; the philosophy of the world aflbrds us no hope in
those moments in which we need the greatest assistance;
it leaves its votaries in awful darkness, without a light to
guide them, or a shelter to protect them from the storm.
While surrounded by prosperity ; while basking in the
sunshine of human enjoyments, the poor sceptic feeds
upon the bounties of Providence, without acknowledging
SERMONS. 435
his superintending care, or feeling the weight of those ob-
ligations by which he is bound to the God of his salvation ;
but when the clouds of affliction gather around him, and
the world refuses him a continuance of its delusive comforts,
he stands defenceless and unprotected; when the winds of
tribulation blow, and when the floods of sorrow rise, they
sap the foundation of his repose, and he falls the miserable
victim of folly and presumption. The religion of Jesus is,
therefore, the one thing needful to constitute man happy;
in prosperity it teaches us that we are indebted for our
blessings to the benevolent Parent of the universe; that
they are lent to us for a short season, and that God is the
best judge when to withdraw them from our embrace. It
teaches us that we stand connected to the Almighty by a
tie infinitely more tender than any with which we are ac-
quainted; that the affection which unites a tender mother
to the infant of her bosom, is inconsiderable when com-
pared with that regard which unites the Lord Jesus to
his obedient children. It teaches us that the Almighty
chastises us from a principle of love; that however mar-
vellous his dispensations may appear to the eye of human
reason, yet that his ways are just and true, and that " all
things shall work together for good to those who love God."
Persuaded of these comfortable truths, the believer bends
with filial resignation; when passing through the waters of
affliction he is supported in the arms of his Redeemer, and
if in some hour unusually afflictive his faith is for a mo-
ment shaken, the promises of God restore him to a state of
self-command; he hears the voice of his Almighty friend
speaking into silence his apprehensions: "It is I, it is thy
Saviour, be not afraid."
That God is really the support of those who love him,
may be proven from a variety of instances in the Sacred
Writings; that he conducts them in their passage through
the rivers of adversity, the page of Revelation will testify.
Trace the progress of Joseph through all his trials, and
you will find that the Almighty was with him, supporting
him under the pressure of his sorrows, and advancing him
436
in virtue and liappiness; even in the gloomy hour of his
confinement, when deprived of every ray of human com-
fort, " the Lord was with him, showing him mercy, and
giving him favour in the sight of his enemies," Recollect,
also, the merciful deliverance of Daniel ; view him in the
den of lions, the innocent victim of infidelity and wicked-
ness. Human reason could have afforded him no hope;
death and destruction, to the eye of nature, must have
appeared inevitable; yet behold him surrounded by his
Omnipotent friend; see the lions deprived of their natural
ferocity, lying harmless at his feet, evidencing to him a
tenderness denied him by his fellow-men. Consider, also,
the interposition of Jehovah in behalf of the three Jews
who were cast into a furnace heated seven times hotter
than usual ; the flames with which they were surrounded
were deprived of their consuming power ; the God of their
salvation was with them; the waters could not overflow
them.
Again ; Should the Christian be permitted to struggle
with human evils; should the Almighty not think proper
to deliver him from temporal distress; he is not to conclude
that the ears of Jehovah are closed against him, or that
his prayers are disregarded. The object that the Almighty
has in view, is to promote the eternal happiness of his fol-
lowers; and our own experience must convince us, that
a state of uniform prosperity, a separation from aflliction,
is little calculated to produce so desirable an event. Our
affections are wedded by nature to the world, and it is by
the removal of those enjoyments with which we are sur-
rounded, that we are taught the instructive lesson of duty
and obedience. David was sensible of this truth; the
blessings with which he had been favoured, instead of
attaching him to his Creator, and producing in his mind a
disposition of virtue, had alienated him from the Almighty;
the rod of affliction was therefore applied ; by its effects
the wandering monarch was convinced of his transgression ;
the uncertainty of human joys became obvious to his mind,
and he was directed for happiness to a city which hath
SERMONS. 437
foundations, whose builder and maker is God. So sensible
was he made of the salutary effects of distress, that he ac-
knowledged with gratitude the kindness of Jehovah, in the
application of that affliction under which he laboured :
" Before I was afflicted I went astray, but now will I keep
thy law."
Among the many trials to which man is exposed, there is
none which strikes more deeply at his happiness than the
loss of his near connexions. As social beings, we are in-
debted to each other for the comforts of human life. It is
from the kindness and attentions of those united to us by
the ties of affinity, that we derive the most sublime enjoy-
ments; the names of husband and wife, parent and child,
brother and sister, strike the ear with peculiar tenderness,
and inspire the mind with satisfaction and delight. Amidst
the convulsions which agitate our bosom, amidst that torrent
of distress with which we are frequently called to struggle,
we find in their converse and society, a solace for our griefs,
a balm for every wound ; of their sincerity we have no
doubt, in their sympathy we perfectly confide. While
other evils may be said to form a stream, over which we
can step with little difficulty, their separation and depar-
ture constitute waters which alarm us, a river to the eye of
flesh deep and impassable.
To support us under such trials, the Christian religion is
nobly calculated ; by the light which it affords us, the
valley of death is perfectly illumined ; the shades and hor-
rors of its scenery are dissipated, and it is represented to
our view as a shadow, the path to eternal joys.
Is the Christian called upon to part with the child of his
affections, the son of his hope ? Revelation takes him by the
hand, and directs him to that world of happiness where
sorrow and sighing find no admission, and where every tear
will be wiped from his eye. Does nature cling with resist-
less force to the object of its attachment? Revelation
assures the suffering parent that his child is the heir of
eternal joys, that " it is not dead but sleepeth ;'' that so far
from intending its destruction, Jehovah by its removal will
438 SERMONS.
consummate i(s bliss, and confirm it in the possession of hap-
piness endless and unabating. " Suffer it to come unto me
and forbid it not, for of such is the kingdom of God." At
the declaration of that assurance, the pangs of parental
love are assuaged; the storm of his affliction is succeeded by
a day of serenity and composure ; the waters of distress are
not permitted to overflow and destroy his hopes.
Is the Christian called upon to part with a beloved
parent; a parent who has nursed him in his infancy, and
folded him in the arms of the sincerest affection ? Does
he perceive those lips, from which have flowed his youthful
instructions, quivering in death ? Does he perceive those
hands which have aided him in his infant exertions, clasped
in dissolution ? Does he perceive those eyes which have
so often beamed in kindness upon him, sunk in their sock-
ets insensible to surounding objects? Does he perceive those
ears in which he once lodged his complaints, and never
lodged them in vain, deaf to those agonies which rend his
bosom? Do such objects, I say, strike his mind and convulse
his frame ? The promises of God step in to his relief; they ex-
plore that path, which nature in all its efforts cannot reach,
and clear it of its awful gloom ; they tell him of mansions of
rest provided for the people of God ; that death has been
deprived of its sting by the Saviour, and that his parent is
winging his way to a better world. He gathers encourage-
ment from the assurance of revelation; he pants after God
as the hart panteth after the water brooks ; he determines,
through God's grace, to come out from among the world,
and to fit himself for the enjoyment of celestial bliss. The
sufferings of the youthful Christian are noticed by that
Being whose care extendeth to the young ravens, and the
simple sparrow: his mind is strengthened, the waters are
forbidden to overflow him.
Is the Christian called upon to part with the companion
of his bosom ; the friend whom he has selected from the
world to share with him in the comforts, and to sympathise
with him in the sorrows of human life? Has disease
stamped upon her visage the impress of death ? Has that
SERMONS. 439
smile, with which she always greeted his return, left her
countenance, and have paleness and languor Hsurped its
seat ? Does he perceive the moment advancing when death
must separate him from her society, and leave him exposed
to the gloom of solitude? At such a moment, a moment
which needeth consolation, the Scriptures of God furnish
him with every necessary comfort. He fixes his eye upon
the tomb of Lazarus, he sees the fetters of death loosened
by the Lord Jesus Christ, and beholds the victim of disso-
lution arise from his slumbering retirement; he reflects
upon that state which is subject to no change, and presses
toward the mark; he beholds the inhabitants of heaven
uniting in anthems of praise around the Redeemer's throne,
and thirsts for the living God ; he hears the Saviour de-
claring, " I am the resurrection and the life, he that liveth
and believeth in me shall never die," and his hopes are en-
larged; the triumphant language of Paul strikes his ear
with irresistible force, and wipes the tear from his weeping
eye : " this corruption shall put on incorruption, this mortal
shall put on immortality." Oh, death, I will be thy sting,
Oh, grave, I will be thy victory. He anticipates the day
when believers in Jesus will meet in perfect peace, and
through the countless ages of eternity, chaunt the praises
of Redeeming grace ; he lights his torch at the altar of
revelation, the darkness of nature vanishes as he advances,
and the glories of the celestial world are reflected upon his
mind; conscious that the inhabitants of bliss are holy, he
flies to the blood of atonement to remove his defilement,
and to fit him for the skies ; in the exercise of his religious
duties, he finds a pleasure which the world can neither
give nor take away — his griefs are hushed into a calm —
his distresses are appeased — his soul is at rest — " the Lord
gave" he exclaims in faith, "and the Lord hath taken away,
blessed be the name of the Lord." Jehovah beholds with
affection the poor sufferer; he goes with him through the
waters, and the rivers are not permitted to overflow him.
When brought to the verge of eternity himself, the same
dependence upon the promises of God support and comfort
440 SERMONS.
him; he finds the powers of nature gradually declining,
still retains his fortitude of mind; enclosed in the ark of the
covenant, he approaches the river of death without a fear ;
the waters separate, and furnish him, as they did Israel of
old, with a safe passage to eternity. Yes, believing in the
word of God he looks the grim tyrant in the face, and with
Christian composure declares, " though 1 walk through the
valley and shadow of death, I will fear no evil; for thou,
my God, art with me, thy rod and thy staff comfort me."
To secure to ourselves a state of mind so truly delight-
ful, let us accept those offers made us in the Gospel of
Christ; let us fly to the atonement as the only place of
refuge — the rock upon which to build our hopes of happi-
ness; let us make the precepts of Jehovah our rule of life;
and we shall find, that in sickness and in health, in trouble
or prosperity, the God we love will never leave us nor for-
sake us.
SERMON XII.
« How beautiful upon the mountains, are the feet of him that bringeth
good tidings, that pubiisheth peace ; that bringeth good tidings of good,
that pubiisheth salvation ; that saith unto Zion, thy God reigneth !" —
Isaiah, lii. 7.
In order to enter into the spirit of that animated ex-
pression, whicii forms the theme of my present discourse, it
is necessary that you should be informed of the situation of
the Jews, at the time to which it immediately refers.
The transgressions which they had committed against
God, had involved them in punishments the most grievous
and insupportable; they were separated from that state of
familiar intercourse with the Almighty, to which they had
been accustomed ; and were doomed, not only to a banish-
ment from the immediate presence of Jehovah, but also to
a state of captivitj' in Babylon. While exposed on the
one hand to the insulting language of their enemies, and
upon the other, to a separation from the institutions of that
religion, in which they had been instructed by God him-
self, their hearts became alive to the awful situation in
which they were involved, and they panted for a restora-
tion to the divine favor and protection. In their supplica-
tions to heaven for assistance, they plead the former favors
they had received; they related in the ear of Jehovah
those miracul5us interpositions he had exercised in their
behalf, and entreated the Almighty to arise in power, to
evidence himself their friend, again, and to have mercy
upon Zion ; " Awake, awake, put on strength, O arm of the
442 SERMONS,
Lord ; awake as in the ancient days, in the generations of
old; art thou not it, that hath cut Rahab to pieces, and
wounded Pharaoh the dragon? Was it not thine arm
which dried the sea, the waters of the great deep, that
hath made the depths of the sea a way for the ransomed
to pass over?" The recollection of those splendid triumpha
which as a nation they had experienced, animated their
minds with a hopeful issue to their troubles, and enabled
them to look forward to brighter days. They realized
the period, when the Lord would turn back the captivity
of Zion ; break the fetters with which they were bound;
emancipate their nation, and restore them to freedom and
the services of the temple. After the people had sufTered
that degree of punishment which, in the estimation of the
Almighty, was thought sufficient to wean them from the
world, and to direct their views to heaven, the sacred Pro-
phet revived their hopes with the promise of better days ;
he exhorted them to take down their harps from the wil-
lows, and to strike the chord of gratitude and praise.
*' Awake, awake, put on thy strength, O Zion, the holy
city; shake thyself from the dust, captive daughter of
Zion ; for thus saith the Lord, ye have sold yourselves for
naught, and ye shall be redeemed without money." Elated
with the fullest confidence in the protection of heaven, they
spoke of their restoration as an event which was upon the
eve of its completion ; " the redeemed of the Lord shall re-
turn, and come with singing unto Zion, and everlasting joy
shall be upon their heads : they shall obtain gladness and joy,
and sorrow and mourning shall flee away." Enraptured
with the pleasing idea, they saw in prospect, the messenger
who was to proclaim liberty to the captives, leaping upon
the mountains, and skipping upon the hills; "How beauti-
ful upon the mountains are the feet of him, that bringeth
good tidings; that publisheth peace; that bringeth good
tidings of good; that publisheth salvation ; that saith unto
Zion, thy God reigneth." As the language in which the
deliverance of the Jews from Babylon is not to be confined
to the temporal restoration of that people, but has an un-
SERMONS. 443
doubted reference to the redemption of mankind by the
Lord Jesus Christ, I shall, in the subsequent discourse, direct
your attention to that important event, and shall show you
in the first place, what the Gospel is ; secondly, prove to
you, that it is a ground of the greatest joy ; and then con-
clude with some practical inferences.
lam therefore in the first place, to show you what the
Gospel is. The genius of the holy Prophet, though animated
upon all occasions, appears to have been particularly so
when engaged in the subject before us; he seems to have
entered deeply into the view of those distresses entailed
upon us by the fall; and when he speaks of the emancipa-
tion of mortals from the dominion of hell, the poetic powers
of his mind were allowed the fullest range, in order that
his description of our deliverance might bear a just resem-
blance to those blessings which formed the subject of his
discourse; he considered man, with all his boasted powers,
disposed to rebel against his Maker, in a state of alienation
from God; obnoxious to the everlasting displeasure of
heaven. He viewed the human race as having strayed
from the fold, following the devices and desires of their
own hearts : as it is expressed in Scripture, poor, wretched
and miserable, and blind, and naked ; possessed of no means
by which to conciliate the divine favour ; and destitute of
any shield with whifeh to ward off the stroke of God's in-
dignation; he considered them as in a state of enmity with
heaven, the slaves of folly and of vice ; with no prospect be-
fore them but a certain, fearful looking for of judgment.
To man in such an awful situation, the Gospel proclaim
peace and salvation ; it points to the blood of atonement, as
it flows from the bleeding bosom of the Lord Jesus Christ,
and declares to Adam's ruined race, that God is in Christ
reconciling the world unto himself. It represents sin as
expiated by the sufferings of the Redeemer ; it proclaims
to us, that as Jesus was wounded for our transgressiojr of
the believer is healed by his stripes ; it infon'je joy with
guage as plain as it is forcible, that the S^nen the Sun of
»• his wings; with
NN 2
444 SERMONS.
sin for ii«, that the believer might be made the righteous-
ness of God in him.
This, brethren, is the express view which Scripture
affords us of the process of redemption; this constitutes
the proclamation of peace which Zion's messengers are
delegated to deliver; these are the principles which Paul
laid at the feel of the Corinthians, and which, as an am-
bassador of heaven, he entreated them to accept: " we pray
you," said he, "in Christ's stead, be ye reconciled to God."
Again: the salvation proclaimed in the text appears wor-
thy of that Being from whose sacred courts it hath been
issued, when we reflect upon the freedom of those terms
upon which it is proposed; those tidings of mercy are
worthy their divine author, and may with propriety be
called good, which bring salvation to mortals without
money and without price. There is no exception, remem-
ber, in the overtures of divine grace, for the offers of mercy
are ingenuously made to all. Sinners are the objects which
brought the Son of God from the bosom of his Father, and
for whom he submitted to the death of the cross. " This
is a faithful saying and worthy of all men to be received,
that Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners."
There is no situation in life, which excludes us from the
privileges of pardon, provided we will confess and forsake
our sins. The messengers of the cross are sent into the
streets and lanes of the city, to bring in the poor and the
maimed, the halt and the blind. Yes ! we are commanded
to explore the high-ways, and to penetrate into the hedges,
to sound the trumpet of Jubilee in the ears of mortals; we
are enjoined not only to persuade, but to compel them, by
urging the consequences of their impenitence, to fly to the
arms of the Saviour. Should mortals plead their inability
to repair to the standard of the cross? i^hould they say
that they are tied and bound with the chain of their sins,
■j-jjn^therefore unable to comply? We tell them that
"Christ Je^yJ^ came to preach deliverance to the captives,
and the openings" of the prison to them that are bound. "We
not only point out uo them their remedy, but the means by
445
which to avail themselves of it ; we carry them in imagina-
tion to the dungeon of Philippi, and show them the de-
liverance which was effected in the case of the Apostle
Peter; we inform them that the power of God was excited
for the relief of the suffering disciples; that the poor cap-
tive was set at perfect liberty, and that Jehovah is equally
disposed to assist them. With tidings so benevolent in their
character we appear before you. We tell you, and Scrip-
ture warrants the declaration, that salvation is as free as the
water which flows from the bosom of the earth. Impressed
with these considerations, we adopt the language of the
Prophet, and in his inspired words we cry aloud, " Ho every
one that thirsteth, come ye to the waters; yea, come, buy
wine and milk without money and without price."
Viewing the Gospel in this auspicious light, we shall see,
in the second place, that it is a ground of the greatest joy:
this is the light in which it has been viewed from its first
promulgation to the present period. Cyrus was the indi-
vidual who was raised up by the Almighty, and expressly
sent to (ree the Israelites from their bondage. If the feet
of the messengers who were sent with the intelligence of
the liberation of the Jews appeared beautiful to that people,
and excited in their bosoms a tumult of happiness, how in-
describably joyful must that information be, which pro-
claims the deliverance of man from the prison of eternal
death, and asserts his restoration to the favour of the
everliving God ? Abraham, pre-eminently distinguished as
the father of the faithful, who lived two thousand years
before the advent of the Messiah, rejoiced exceedingly to
see in prospect the day of the Lord Jesus. In the solemn
offering of his only son to Jehovah, he saw a type of that
great sacrifice which was made for sinners; he beheld with
the eye of faith, " the Lamb of God who hath taken away
the sin of the world ;" he saw the triumphs of redeeming
grace — millions plucked from the hand of the destroyer of
souls, and was glad. How unspeakable was the joy with
which the minds of angels were inspired, when the Sun of
Righteousness arose with healing under his wings ; with
NN 2
446 SERMONS.
what rapturous delight did they proclaim to man the
tidings of his restoration ! The chariots of God conveyed
the inhabitants of bliss to the abodes of mortality; the
choirs of heaven lent their seraphic aid, to enliven with
the notes of joy the peaceful intelligence; and while Ga-
briel proclaimed the Saviour's nativity, a multitude of the
heavenly host chaunted in fervent strains, " Glory to God
in the highest, and on earth, peace, good- will towards men;"
they saw the blessed Jesus as the mediator between God
and man, spoiling the principalities and powers of hell,
making a show of them openly, and triumphing over
them.
Again; Wherever the Gospel has dilFused its cheering
influence, we perceive that joy and happiness have fol-
lowed in its train. Thus we observe that the most ma-
lignant passions which ever disturbed the peace of fallen
mortals, were eradicated from the minds of those who em-
braced the truths of Christianity, and the calm virtues of
love and peace were established upon their ruins.
This was remarkably fullilled in that change which was
effected upon the hearts of those who were awakened by
the preaching of St. IVter; they had but a short time be-
fore exulted at the sutlerings of the Saviour, and had united
their voices in scoffing at him while hanging upon the
cross; their guilty hands were stained with his blood, and
their bosoms were the seat of malice and revenge. But
when the grace of God, like the rays of the meridian sun,
illumined their minds, the preaching of the Apostle became
the savor of life to their precious souls; they gladly received
his words ; they bowed at the feet of the cross ; " they con-
tinued daily in the temple with one accord, and, breaking
bread from house to house, did eat their meat with glad-
ness and singleness of heart, praising God, and having fa-
vour with all the people." See, also, the eflfect produced
in the temper and disposition of Saul of Tarsus. While
he continued the votary of Judaism, his zeal was manifested
by conduct at variance with every principle of benevolence ;
his zeal was manifested by exciting in the bosoms of his
SERMONS. 447
countrymen a spirit of the most unfeeling revenge; Saul
himself, forgetting the dignity of his character, held the
clothes of those who stoned St. Stephen to death, and thus
imbrued his hands in a brother's blood.
After his conversion to Christianity, how different,
brethren, were his feelings and his views ! " The servant of
God," said he, *' must not strive, but be gentle unto all
men — in meekness instructing those who oppose them-
selves:" " Be ye kind one to another, tender-hearted, for-
giving one another, even as God, for Christ's sake, bath
forgiven you." These wonderful effects, however, cannot
surprise us, when we consider how fully the tidings of sal-
vation are calculated to establish this joy and this peace
in our minds. If the Jews exulted at their deliverance
from a cruel yoke, and a restoration to their native country ;
if the messengers of their release gave birth to such emo-
tions of happiness, how much more should a fallen sinner
rejoice, when the Gospe! proclaims in his ears the willing-
ness of God to be reconciled to his soul ! If the poor cripple,
who had lain at the gate of the temple from his youth,
rejoiced at his restoration to the use of his limbs ; if his re-
covery occasioned such vibrations of felicity in his mind, as
to make him leap with ecstacy and delight, praising and
adoring the Author of his blessings, how should the Chris-
tian rejoice when called from darkness into light? When
by conversion of heart he becomes a new creature, and is
made an heir of God, and a joint heir with Christ ; when
from that change he discovers in his life and conversation,
he can say that his soul is escaped as a bird out of the
snare of the fowler; when he becomes a partaker of that
peace of God which passeth all understanding, what su-
preme cause has he for pious exultation ! The joy, my
brethren, peculiar to the Gospel, is not confined to the
lower world; it is at this moment, and ever will be, the
subject of praise and thanksgiving in the regions of eternal
day ; the saints of the Most High God, who are permitted
to assemble around the throne of Jehovah, have their at-
tention constantly directed to the effects of the cross of
448 SERMO>'S.
Christ, and never are they diverted from that sublime ob-
ject for a single moment : day and night their harps of
praise are tuned to devotion: day and night are they sing-
ing, in strains of celestial melody, " to him who loved them,
and washed them from their sins in his own blood;" and
though the blessed angels, those happy spirits who never
fell, are less interested in the subject than the saints, yet
do they join the happy chorus, and with unceasing adora-
tion, " Ascribe honour and glory to him that sitteth on the
throne, and to the Lamb forever."
Again ; The Gospel forms a ground of the greatest joy,
as it respects that information by which life and immor-
tality have been brought to light; the grave, through its
cheering influences, is divested of its horrors; the parent,
when called to part with a beloved child, no longer shrinks
back with horror at the idea of separation ; he realizes the
blissful hour when its dust will be reanimated, and the
peaceful slumberer arise to everlasting day ; when its happy
spirit, reunited to its incorruptible body, will ascend into
the third heaven, and take its mansion near the throne.
Yes, when standing at the tomb, he considers it only the
receptacle of its body for a season; with the tear of parting
affection rolling down his cheek, he thus addresses the
gloomy mansion :
" Think not, Grave, that we resign
This treasure as forever thine:
We only ask a transient stay,
'Till Heaven unfolds the eternal day."
With tidings and consolations such as these, we revive
the widow's heart; we calm her throbbing bosom with
the recollection of eternal joys, and direct her eyes to
heaven. The orphan also receives encouragement from
Zion's messengers; we proclaim to the defenceless mourner
that rest which is provided for the people of God ; we
assure the trembling sufferer that her parent, if a believer
in the Lord Jesus, is not dead, but sleepeth: that the day
SERMONS. 449
is at hand which will usher her into the presence of that
father, who once folded her in his arnns; into the pre-
sence of that mother, at whose bosom she was nurtured,
and who taught her lips to lisp the praises of the great
Eternal.
To conclude; The Gospel contains a full and Tree offer
of salvation through the merits of the Redeemer; it brings
a pardon to every penitent — a pardon sealed with the
blood of Christ — a pardon presented to him without money
and without price.
How sincerely should we rejoice at those tidings which
proclaim to us an inheritance in heaven, a city which hath
foundations; whose pillars adversity and sorrow can never
shake ; whose builder and maker is God.
Let all who hear the joyful sound improve the opportu-
nity. Let them consider the conditions upon which the
blessings of the gospel are suspended ; repent of sin, and
believe on the Lord Jesus. Let them meet the messengers
of the cross with grateful hearts, and let their lives bear
witness to the sincerity o{ their religious profession. Let
duty to God form our paramount consideration. "Let us
lay aside every weight, and the sin which doth so easily
beset us, and run with patience the race that is set before
us; looking to Jesus, who is the author and finisher of our
faith," for grace to carry into effect our virtuous reso-
lutions, and for strength to persevere in Christian holiness.
Living in the discharge of our duty to God and to man,
believers have every thing to hope, and nothing to fear.
What ! shall the heirs of a better and an eternal world,
despond? Shall those who sincerely love God and delight
in his commandments, tremble under momentary trials?
Shall those whose treasure is in heaven, be discouraged on
account of temporal evils? Believers, remember that
there is a rest provided for the people of God ; a rest from
all your labours and all your difficulties; a rest where all
is happiness and joy ; a heaven in which no privations will
await you ; a heaven in which you will meet with those
believing friends for whom you have mourned, and from
450 SERMONS,
whom you will no more be separated ; a heaven whose
felicity is never interrupted by the sigh of sorrow, where
the voice of mourning is never heard, but joy unutterable
and full of glory will be your portion for ever.
Take, gracious God, take my congregation into thy holy
keeping ; preserve them from sin, and let that mind that
was in Christ Jesus be in them !
SERMON XIII
" I have received of the Lord, that which also I delivered unto you, that
the Lord Jesu?, the same night in which he was betrayed, took bread :
And when he had given thanks, he brake it, and said. Take, eat, thia is
my body which is broken for you ; this do in remembrance of me. After
the same manner, also, he took the cup, when he had supped, saying,
This cup is the New Testament in my blood ; this do ye as oft as ye drink
it, in remembrance of me. For as often as ye eat this bread and drink
this cup, ye do shew the Lord's death till he come." — 1 Cor. xi. 23 to 26.
In this chapter, from which I have selected the subject
of our present meditation, the Apostle exhibits to our view
the nature and design of that holy ordinance, to which
our attention is particularly called at this time. To
correct the erroneous opinions which the Corinthians held
respecting it, and to reprove them for that levity and in-
consideration which marked their conduct in the observ-
ance of it, appears to have formed his chief object.
In the course of his observations upon the important
subject, he discovers to us the reasonableness and propriety
of the institution ; he shows us how admirably it is cal-
culated to preserve in the human mind a sense of our ob-
ligations for the mercies of redemption ; to awaken the
sensibilities of our hearts to the tender recollections con-
nected with it; and to excite our gratitude to that Saviour
who died for the salvation of a lost and ruined world.
452 SER3I0KS.
By a careful perusal of the whole chapter, the attentive
Christian will discover that the condemnatory clause which
it contains, can have no possible bearing upon any indi-
vidual whose intentions are sincere; who, from motives of
gratitude to heaven, commemorates the sufferings of the
Lord Jesus, and whose desire it is to conform his life to
the divine precepts.
The Corinthians, instead of observing the institution as an
ordinance purely spiritual, as a mean by which their vir-
tues might be invigorated, their hearts softened into contri-
tion, and their minds renewed by divine grace, had made it
a scene of revelry and confusion ; employed it to feed their
lusts ; changed a feast of charity into a debauch : convert-
ed a religious rite into a common feast; and thus evidenced
their gratitude to God, as men too often do on days of pub-
lic rejoicing, by a violation of moral duty in acts of riot
and intemperance. To correct this glaring evil, and to
bring to their view the heinous nature of their offence,
the Apostle thus addressed them: — "What! have ye not
houses to eat or to drink in, or despise ye the Church of God ?
When ye come together into one place, this is not to eat
the Lord's Supper, for, in eating, every one taketh before
other his own supper, and one is hungry, and another is
drunken. What shall I say to you ? Shall I praise you
in this ? I praise you not." After these remarks, he enters
into an explanation and statement of the origin and intent
of the ordinance, reminding them of the time in which it
was instituted, and the solemnity with which it was ordain-
ed. "I have received of the Lord, that which also I de-
livered unto you, that the Lord Jesus, the same night in
which he was betrayed, look bread, and, when he had
given thanks, he brake it, and said. Take, eat, this is my
body which is broken for you : this do in remembrance of
me. After the same manner, also, he took the cup when
he had supped, saying, This cup is the New Testament in
my blood, this do ye, as oft as ye drink it, in rememberance
of me, for as often as ye eat this bread, and drink this cup,
ye do shew forth the Lord's death till he come"
SERMONS. 453
Tliis institution, fliou^h it commenced with the apostoHc
family, is to be oj=ei ved until the second coming of the
Lord Jesus. It is not a temporary, but a standing and per-
petual ordinance. It is to be celebrated by the people of
God through the revolving ages of the world, till the Lord
shall come. It is to be observed until the final consummation
of all things, when the Saviour shall come in his own glory,
with all his holy angels. The observance of it is to be fre-
quent, " as oft as ye eat this bread and drink this cup, ye
do show forth the Lord's death till he comeJ'^
In order to guard them against the recurrence of that
irreverent behaviour of w^hich he had spoken, he then di-
rects their attention, in a verse subsequent to the text, to
the solemn duty of self-examination. " Let a man exam-
ine himself!" Let him consider the nature and intent of
the ordinance. Let him remember that the bread and
wine, the sacred elements thus appropriated, are set apart
for the most solemn and important purposes; that they re-
present the body and blood of the Redeemer, and that they
are to be used with devotion ; and when you receive them
you are to reflect upon the agony and bloody sweat of the
precious Lamb of God; his cross and passion are to be
present in your minds, and your prayers are to be offered
up to heaven for an interest in the atonement offered upon
Calvary. Examine yourselves, in order to ascertain the
state of your minds ; be sure that your intentions are sin-
cere; and be sure that you love your Saviour, that you re-
spect his precepts, and entertain an allection for all your
fellow beings, forgiving those who have injured you, as you
expect forgiveness at the hands of the Almighty.
In the consideration of this serious and affecting subject,
I shall explain to you, in the first place, the object con-
templated in this holy ordinance. Secondly, show you the
necessity of an attendance upon it, and the ingratitude
connected with the neglect of this duty ; and then conclude
with some practical remarks.
First, I am to explain to you the object contemplated
in this holy ordinance.
454 SERMONS.
It can require no argument to convince us, that we are
too unmindful of the mercies we receive ; and that every
means which is calculated to keep alive in our minds the
debt of gratitude we owe the Almighty, cannot be too
highly esteemed and valued. The favours we receive at
the hands of Jehovah, should be faithfully recorded and
indelibly impressed upon our hearts; but, instead of per-
ceiving this to be the fact, his mercies, like letters written
upon the sand, are soon obliterated from our recollection
and forgotten. Although we are surrounded by his good-
ness, snstained by his care, fed by his bounty and redeem-
ed by his blood, we are too insensible of our obligations, and
forgetful of that source from which all our comforts ema-
nate. To call home our wandering thoughts, and to excite
in our minds a spirit of gratitude and reflection, the Lord
Jesus instituted his last supper; in which solemnity he leads
the religious worshipper to Calvary; discovers himself to
his view upon the cross; informs him of the cause of his
sufTerings; recognizes him as a member of his mystical
body ; addresses him as his child and disciple ; entreats
him to summon to his aid the grateful feelings of devotion ;
to confess him before men ; and to do this in remembrance
of him.
Similar to the ordinance under consideration, was the
institution of the Passover, a ceremony observed by the
Jews, as a memorial of their deliverance from the sword of
the destroying angel. The gratitude which animated their
bosoms at the recollection of that event, hath not been ex-
tinguished to the present day, and we find them still in the
observance of the solemn rite.
In addition to the duty enjoined upon the Israelites of
mature age, they were instructed to inform their descend-
ants of the interest which Jehovah had taken in their wel-
fare, and to impress upon the minds of their oirspring their
obligations to the Almighty. " When your children shall
say, what mean you by this service ? ye shall say, it is the
Lord's Passover." It is commemorative of that mercy
which spared our fathers when a thousand of the idola-
SKEM01N3. 455
trous Egyptians fell at their side, and ten thousand at their
right hand. It is comnnemorative of our deliverance when
the destroying angel went through the Egyptian dwellings,
slaying their first born, and covering our nation with the
wings of his protection. Such mercies are not to be for-
gotten, but had in everlasting remembrance. " Oh that
men would praise the Lord for his goodness, and declare the
wonders that he doeth for the children of men."
If, brethren, a temporal deliverance was thus command-
ed to be recognized and observed, how much more should
that deliverance be remembered of which we have par-
taken, and which was purchased by the sacrifice of the
Redeemer ! If the gratitude of the Jews was thus excited
by an escape from temporal death and bondage, how much
more should the gratitude of believers be excited, who
have been rescued from eternal ruin by the blood of the
cross, and whose salvation has been procured by the only
begotten son of God !
The redemption of man, remember, was eflfected by thq
death of Christ. So inexorable is the attribute of divine
justice, so tenacious is Jehovah of his veracity, that unless
a ransom had been found equal to the demands of God's
violated law, the sentence pronounced against sin would
have been carried into effect, and man would have been
consigned to remediless woe. To intercept that blow,
which would have crushed a universe, the Son of God took
upon him our nature; vacated his throne ; died in the stead
of the guilty offender; became our surety ; cancelled the
debt we had contracted ; unbarred the prison doors, and set
the captivti free. " He was wounded for our transgres-
sions, and bruised for our iniquities ;" " he was made sin for
us who knew no sin, that we might be made the righteous-
ness of God in him."
To perpetuate in our minds this instance of divine love
we are enjoined to meet around his table, to eat the bread
and drink the cup in remembrance of him ! Yes, when
we behold the sacramental bread broken at his altar, we
are to call to view the scourgings of the Lord Jesus ; to
456 SERMONS.
reflect upon the agonies he suffered upon the cross, when
his hands and feet were lacerated with nails, and his side
pierced with a spear. When we drink of the cup, we are
to remember that it is emblematic of his blood, that blood
which was shed for our salvation ; without the shedding of
which we and our children must have perished, and been
undone forever.
The importance of the event thus recognized in his last
supper, will appear evident when we consider the circum-
stances attendant upon the act of redemption. The devo-
tional powers of our souls will be set in motion, and our
gratitude kindled into a flame, when we reflect that at the
moment alluded to, the sun was darkened and withheld his
rays; that nature laid by her robes of light, and was
clothed in sackcloth ; that the earth trembled to its cen-
tre; that the rocks were rent asunder, when the Son of
God, the Immaculate Jesus, bowed his head and gave up
the ghost. To reflect upon such an act of benevolence;
an act marked with such features of divinity, and pregnant
with such benefits to mankind, without feeling our bosoms
inspired with gratitude to God, is impossible ! To remem-
ber that our fathers, ourselves, and our children, have been
plucked as brands from the burning, by the redeeming
hand of the Lord Jesus, and remain insensible to our obli-
gations, would reflect a disgrace upon the human charac-
ter for which no apology could be ofTered. Believers, think
of these things, when kneeling around his altar this day;
call to mind the love of your Redeemer, and in a burst of
gratitude exclaim, " Bless the Lord, and forget not all his
benefits." If your children should ask you, what mean
you by this religious ceremony? tell them that it is a me-
morial of the love of Jesus to a guilty world; that it is
done to perpetuate that benevolence of the Saviour which
excited astonishment in the breasts of angels ; that it is
done in remembrance of that Jesus who redeemed them
from death ; through whom we have found acceptance
with the Father ; that it is done in remembrance of an act
of parental mercy, which language in all its glowing num-
SERMONS. 457
bers cannot describe ; by virtue of which the heaven v^e
had lost has been restored to us, and life and immortality
secured.
Again ; This duty continues binding upon the Church
of Christ till time shall be no more ; for we are to show
forth the Lord's death till he come. Of this truth we have
the most abundant evidence in Scripture; we perceive in
the Gospel of Luke, that the two disciples who met the
Saviour on the way to Emmaus, and who were not
members of the Apostolic family, were admitted to this
holy rite. In the second chapter of the Acts, we are also
informed that the Christians universally continued stead
fast in the Apostles' doctrine and fellowship, and in break
ing of bread, and in prayers. So also in the twentieth
chapter it is said that '' Upon the first day of the week,
when the disciples, (meaning the whole Christian family,)
came together to break bread, Paul preached unto them;"
and in the Epistle to the Corinthians, the Apostle charges
the duty of sacramental communion upon the minds of all
the people as a fundamental principle.
If the first Christians evidenced their gratitude for the
mercies of redemption, by meeting around the altar, we
are equally bound with them to respect the holy ordinance;
the benefits we derive from the death of Christ are the
same which they enjoyed; our hopes of salvation are found-
ed upon the same basis; our obligations are in all respects
the same. We have been redeemed by virtue of the same
atonement. We are sanctified by the same Spirit; we are
heirs of the same glory ; the children of the same universal
Parent. Let our gratitude, then, burn with the same
ardour ; let our hosannas, while in this world, be marked
with the same fervour of expression ; and our notes of
praise, when we reach the heavens, will be equally sub-
limated and divine.
Again ; The ordinance of the Last Supper is not only
commemorative of the sufferings of the Lord Jesus, but it
is to be viewed also as a means of grace — a channel through
o 2
458 SERMOS.
which we derive strength and ability to perform our re-
ligious duties. The intelhgent communicant, in this holy
sacrament, receives Christ, and feeds upon him; his body,
which is represented by the bread, proves to him meat
indeed; and his blood, which is represented bv the cup,
proves to him drink indeed ; and as temporal food nourishes
the body, strengthening and fitting it for the duties of life,
so the sacramental elements, when received by the faithful,
nourish the soul, fitting it for the exercise of spiritual duties,
animating us with gratitude to heaven, and inspiring us
with a desire to love and serve the God of our salvation.
That this is the view of the Church upon the subject, ap-
pears evident from that instruction which she communi-
cates to her members, through the medium of her incom-
parable Catechism ; for when, in allusion to this subject,
the question is proposed, " What are the benefits whereof
we are partakers thereby '?'' the Catechunjen is instructed
to make this reply : "The strengthening and refreshing of
our souls by the body and blood of Christ, as our bodies are
by bread and wine."
Having thus explained to you the object contemplated
in this holy ordinance, 1 am secondly to show you the
benefits arising from a compliance with the duty, and the
ingratitude connected with the neglect of this duty.
There is no duty attached to the Christian religion, so
much neglected by those who confess the Lord Jesus, as
this holy ordinance ; and as there is none which involves in
it such tender recollections — recollections so congenial to a
grateful heart, it isa?tonishing that it should be overlooked
without producing in the mind of the delinquent the most
pungent compunction of heart.
It was instituted on the same night in which the Re-
deemer was betrayed ; at the very moment when the con-
sideration of his approachin f crucifixion was present to his
view; at the period when death, clothed in its most awful
attire, stared him in the face; at the very time in which
he was to be ollered up as a ransom tor us, to suiFer in our
stead, to die that we might live ; at that solemn moment,
SERMONS. 459
with his last hreath, he instituted the Supper, and com-
manded us in accents of parental affection to meet around
his Table, to call to view his tenderness, and to perform
this reasonable duty in remembrance of him. Its great
importance, brethren, must appear evident, when we con-
sider the moment in which the ordinance was appointed,
as it is impossible to suppose that any consideration of
minor consequences would at that season have engrossed
the attention of the Saviour.
The Jews, in commemoration of their deliverance, went
thrice every year to Jerusalem, from the remotest parts of
Judea to eat the Passover; and can Christians who ac-
knowledge the Redeemer, and who hope for salvation
through his blood, can they, when the table of the Sa-
viour is presented to their view, when the ordinance is
brought to their doors, can they evidence such neglect as
to refuse a compliance with the injunction of their Head?
Can we, brethren, believing that the Saviour gave him-
self a ransom for us, and that it is by virtue of his death
that we have been rescued i'rom ruin, can we remain so
insensible to the calls of gratitude as to withdraw; can we
refuse to kneel at his table, to confess him before men, to
worship and adore him for his love? Were our children to
act in a similar manner towards us; were they to refuse
a compliance with a request made upon our dying pillow —
a request so reasonable in its nature, so easy in its accom-
plishment, how ungrateful should we consider their con-
duct, how devoid of filial affection ! Consider, also, the
effect which our neglect may have upon the minds of our
families; our sons and daughters look up to us for an ex-
ample; they behold us inattentive to the sacred duty;
they see their parents, whose moral virtues they approve,
overlook this religious solemnity, and pass by on the other
side, as if they possessed no interest in the event of which
it is the memorial. In the hour of death, my beloved, if
blessed with reason, we shall regret such conduct, and la-
ment, when it is too late, the effect produced by our ex-
ample in the minds of those we leave behind us.
460
Again; Our neglect will involve us in the greatest guilt,
as it includes in it a rebellion against the positive conn-
mand of the Redeemer. Christ Jesus has enjoined us to
" Do this in remembrance of him." By disregarding the
precept, we virtually declare that we will not; and
although our minds would be alarmed at a declaration to
that effect, still does not our refusal amount to the same
thing? Is it not saying, "Depart from us, we desire not
the knowledge of thy ways :" " Who is the Lord that we
should obey him ?"
The neglect of the Holy Sacrament includes in it aeon-
tempt of the greatest blessings; the Scriptures declare
that " They who wait upon the Lord shall renew their
strength:" and " That a contrite heart our God will not
despise." In all our approaches to a throne of grace, we
are assured that we shall meet a welcome reception; and
that if we ask for spiritual blessings, he will assist the sup-
pliant with his Holy Spirit. When kneeling around his
altar, in compliance with the Saviour's commands, with
what confidence may the devout communicant expect his
blessing! Remember the comfort, the divine illumination
which was vouchsafed to Cleopas and his fellow-disciple
in the use of this holy ordinance. When Jesus took the
bread and gave it to them, the eyes of their mind were
opened ; their faith, which had become languid, was re-
vived ; their alFection for the Saviour was increased ; and
they followed him with renewed ardour. When mercies
so great are to be conferred; when the King of Saints is
dispensing his blessings; who that has ever tasted that he
is gracious would not be present to obtain some renewed
pledge of his aflfection ?
Believers, it is the table of your Heavenly Father which
is spread before you; it is the children's bread of which
you are required to partake ; when he stretches out his
hand and entreats you to eat of it, Oh, turn not away in
cold indifference, lest his displeasure should be excited, and
his protfered mercies be finally withdrawn. Remember
that such was the case with the people of Jerusalem, upon
SERMONS. 461
whose minds his tenderness made no impression, and who
refused the offers of his grace: " Oh, Jerusalem, Jerusalem!
how often would I have gathered you together as a hen
gathereth her chickens under her wings, and yt would
not /"
To conclude ; There are very few individuals to be found
in society who, from any motives than those of sincerity of
heart, would be induced to approach the holy altar; upon
any other principle cold and inefficacious would be the
sacrifice, and great would be the danger. Frequent are
the instances, however, in which the sincere and upright
are prevented by fears as groundless as they are incorrect.
Can we suppose that the benevolent Jesus, whose heart
always beat with the tenderest affection for his creatures,
would have instituted a ceremony for our observance, and
commanded our participation of that ceremony, in order to
endanger our present quiet, and to bar our entrance into
the mansions of eternal peace? No, brethren; mistaken
would be the views of his parental character, could we
harbour such an idea. In all his intercourse with the hu-
man family, he evidenced himself our friend ; and if a
doubt of his tenderness should rest this morning upon your
minds, go in imagination to Calvary, witness his sufferings
upon the cross, and you will be obliged to acknowledge
that God is love! Remember the reception with which
the Publican met in the temple, and approach the altar
with an assurance of a sincere welcome. Yes, beloved,
with your hands upon your breasts, cry, "God be merciful
to me a sinner !" and that Saviour who looked in tender-
ness upon him, will look in tenderness upon you. Many,
and those who are truly sincere, are afraid to approach,
lest they should approach unworthily; remember that
there is an essential difference between being unworthy,
and partaking unworthily. The citizen who wantonly
violates the laws of his country, is unworthy of pardon;
but if he receive with gratitude the pardon offered him,
and is determined to offend no more, he receives it worthily.
We confess in the service at the altar, that we are not
462 SEEMONS.
worthy of the crumbs which fall from the table of the
Lord Jesus ; but still if we receive the elements in a grate-
ful remembrance of his death, and are determined to cor-
rect our errors, amend our lives, and devote ourselves to
the service of God, we receive it as we ought, as worthily
as our fallen nature will admit of:
" A broken heart, my God, my King,
Is all the sacrifice I bring:
The God of grace will ne'er despise
A broken heart for sacrifice."
SERMON XIV.
" As the hart panteth after the water-brooks, so panteth my soul after
thee, God ! My soul thirsteth for God, for the living God; when shall I
come and appear before God 1"— Psalm, xlii. 1, 2.
The animated language in which the holy Psalmist ex-
presses his desires for a close interview and communion with
God, is a proof of the fervor of his devotion ; and should in-
spire us with a disposition when we approach the throne of
grace, to call upon our souls, and all the powers of our
minds, to engage with becoming spirit in the prosecution of
our religious duties. When we fall upon our knees in
private, to offer up our prayers to the Almighty, or when
we come into his sacred temple tounitein the accents of de-
votion, with the assembly of his worshipping people, we
should recollect the nature and attributes of that Being be-
fore whom we appear, and worship him in the beauty of
holiness; we should remember that if angels in his presence
veil their faces; that i[ the cherubic host of heaven cast
their crowns at the feet of Jesus, when they ascribe to him
that praise so justly his due, we should endeavour to render
him the tribute of a grateful and undivided heart; the
world and its momentary concerns should be for a season
laid aside. We should keep our minds directed to the object
of divine worship; we should recollect that the religious
privileges we enjoy were purchased for us by the precious
464 SERMONS.
blood of a redeeming Jesus, and light the torch of our
affections at the altar of the living God.
The world, my hearers, will admit of zealous attention to
every pursuit, except that of religion. The votaries of
wealth will rise up early, late take rest, and eat the bread
of carefulness, in order to extend their temporal possessions.
There is no part of the universe but what they will ex-
plore, in order to increase their riches. Their hearts are
fixed upon the world, and their minds and conversation are
absorbed in the consideration of earthly things. Conduct of
this nature they judge not only consistent and proper, but
absolutely necessary to secure them success; an enthusiasm
without which, their efforts would be unequal to the object
they have in view. But when the followers of Jesus ap-
pear animated with divine things; when they talk of pant-
ing after God as the hart panteth after the water; when
they confess that their souls are athirst for God, yea, even
for the living God ; when in agreement with the Psalmist
they declare that one day spent in the courts of the Lord,
is better than a thousand devoted to the world ; that their
earnestness subjects them to censure. How often does it
happen that the pious ardor of the serious Christian is at-
tributed to a zeal without knowledge — a warmth of affec-
tion unreasonable and injudicious ! But as we are enjoined
to love the Lord with all our heart, and all our soul, and
all our strength, can the affections of our minds be too
much engaged? Can we be too abstracted from the world?
Too much devoted to our duty ? Should we not strive to lay
up treasure in heaven ! in that city which hath founda-
tion, whose builder and whose maker is God ? If there is a
subject calculated to excite the love of a rational intelligent,
and to attract the unwearied attention of an immortal
being; that subject is the salvation of our souls. When we
consider the pains which our redemption produced in the
mind of the Saviour; when we reflect upon his agonies,
and behold him expiring upon the cross, that we might live
forever; that individual who can remain cold and insensi-
ble to the emotions of piety and gratitude, can have but an
SERMONS. ' 465
imperfect view of the obligations he is under to the God of
his salvation.
The Psalm from which I have selected the text, was
penned by David, at a time that he was separated from
the temple of God, and denied the heart-consoling privi-
lege of worshipping the Almighty in the midst of the great
congregation. Either through the persecution of Saul, or
the rebellion of his son Absalom, he had been driven into
exile; the harp, with the mellifluous accents of which he
had been accustomed to praise the Lord, was hung upon
the willows : and the recollection of his former devotions in-
spired his mind with the most earnest longings for a res-
toration to the immediate presence of God in his sanctuary.
No language that he could possibly invent, possessed suffi-
cient force to express the desires of his soul; his mind ap-
pears to have been engaged in the pursuit of some figure,
by which to represent the extent of his devotional feelings.
He traversed the field of nature, to select some object that
might resemble the agonizing sensations of his soul, and at
length fixed upon a thirsty, famishing deer, to convey in
faint characters, the breathings of his mind after God. " As
the hart panteth after the water-brooks, so panteth my
soul after thee, O God." He beheld in imagination the
hart flying with rapid strides from the huntsmen who were
pursuing her; he saw her upon the stretch, in order to es-
cape the destructive violence which threatened her safety,
and perceived her to be panting for a drop of water to cool
her parched tongue, and to revive her declining strength.
Exhausted with the fatigue of the chase, and almost breath-
less and faint with the extent of her exertion, a brook of
water presents itself to view ; the pleadings of nature would
have induced her to stop her flight, and to quench her
thirst at the gently flowing stream ; but the fear of the
pursuers deprived her of the gratification, and quickened
her pace. The sensations which the poor animal endured
at that moment, the Psalmist conceived to be in some
measure descriptive of his own ; her thirst for water to
satisfy the cravings of exhausted nature, resembled the
466 SERMONS.
desires of his soul after God ; the privation of sacred privi-
leges under which he laboured, had increased his affection
for the duty of prayer, and rendered him more anxious than
ever to enter into the courts of the Lord. " My soul," says
he, "is athirst for God, yea, even for the living God; Ob
when shall I appear in the presence of God ?" when will the
period arrive that the persecution of my enemies shall
cease, and I may be restored to the altars of the God of my
salvation.
The holy Psalmist had experienced those divine pleasures
which arise from an attendance upon the instituted means
of grace; he knew that the humble supplicant, in his ap-
proaches to a throne of mercy, would meet with a welcome
reception from the Almighty ; and that all those who sincere-
ly draw near to God, will find to their comfort, that the
Lord will draw near to them. He wished therefore to un-
bosom all his cares to that Being who had watched over
him from his infancy, and to thank him for his mercies in
the midst of that temple where God had promised to meet
and to bless his waiting people. Remember, brethren, his
singleness of heart: while others thought of the world and
its follies, to the exclusion of God, and the concerns of the
soul, his mind was fixed on other objects. ''One thing," said
he, " have 1 desired of the Lord, that will I seek after, that
I may dwell in the house of the Lord all the davs of my
life, to behold the beauty of the Lord, and to inquire in his
temple; for in the time of trouble he shall hide me in his
pavilion, in the secret of his tabernacle shall he hide me;
he shall set me up upon a rock." Never do we justly esti-
mate a blessing, until we are deprived of it ; never do we
know the importance of health until the hand of sickness
arrests us; never do we know the value of a parent, until
death hath separated us from that parent; however fer-
vent therefore the Psalmist might have been in his devo-
tional exercises, he could not have been perfectly alive to
their importance, nor duly sensible of their value, until he
was separated from the privileges of the sanctuary ; then
it was, that the duties of religion presented their importance
fu!l in his view; then it was, that the recollection of his
SHUMONS. 467
former interviews with God so deeply affected his heart,
that tears of sorrow flowed in torrents from his eyes ; "when
I remember these things, when I call to view the stately
steppings of the Lord in his sanctuary, and recollect the
delights I have enjoyed in his presence, I pour out my soul
in me : for I had gone with the multitude, I went with them
to the house of God, with the voice of joy and praise; with
a multitude that kept holy day:^'' and now, he might have
added, am I bereft of all these glorious privileges, and in
consequence of the persecutions with which I am assailed
and distressed, I am obliged to wander in a state of banish-
ment from the courts of the Lord's house. Recollecting,
however, the former goodness of his heavenly Father; recol-
lecting the numerous favours he had received, and the
guardian care and protection of heaven with which he had
been blessed, he endeavoured to collect his scattered spirits,
and to look forward for brighter scenes, and more prosper-
ous days; that God who had taken him out of the mire and
clay of former despondencies and alarms, still swayed the
sceptre of the world, and could make the darkness of ad-
versity light before him, and crooked things straight. He
therefore reasoned with himself, " Why art thou so dis-
quieted, O my soul, and why art thou so cast down within
me? hope thou in God, for I shall yet praise him for the
help of his countenance." Yes, he might have said, this
€orrow may endure for a night, under the pressure of which
I languish ; but I have the promise of Jehovah, that joy
will come in the morning, and that those who sow in tears
shall eventually reap in joy,
Again : The soul of man is never more exercised with
desires after God, than in those moments, when the extent
of past transgressions is presented to his view^ by the light
of divine grace; when the careless sinner is first awakened
by the Spirit of God, from the awful slumbers of transgres-
sion ; when he takes a retrospective view of his life, and
finds no solid foundation on which to stand — when he per-
ceives that the picture on which he looks is shaded by sins
both numerous and aggravated ; when he discovers, agreea-
bly to the word of God, which has drawn his likeness, that
468 SEKIIONS.
he is " poor and miserable, and wretched, and blind and
naked ;" when he finds that from the crown of his head,
to the soles of his feet, there is no soundness in him, and
that he is covered with wounds, and bruises, and putrefy-
ing sores. He stands amazed : can it be possible, he cries
out in an agony of grief, that my situation is so awfully
alarming, and that I have remained so long insensible of it?
" Oh, wretched man that I am, who shall deliver me from
the body of this death ?" He flies for refuge, perhaps, under
his first alarms, to the law of God ; and perceives that the
law to which he has flown for security proclaims in a
voice louder than the seven thunders of Asia — the soul that
sinneth, it shall die. The thunders of Mount Sinai which
roll above his head, however terrible to his soul, are not
equal in their terrifying effects, to the voice, the awful
voice, of his convicted conscience. The knowledge of sin
pursues the poor offender day and night, and the recollec-
tion of his transgressions is ever before him ; when he is al-
most ready to conclude himself an outcast from the fold of
Israel, and to suppose that there is no salvation for him,
he is directed by the word of truth, or the advice of some
pious friend, to behold the Lamb of God, whotaketh away
the sin of the world; and to repair, wretched as he is, to the
cross of Jesus, to lay himself at the feet of the Saviour, to
cry for mercy, in the unaffected strains of fervent prayer,
and to accept a free and full salvation, without money and
without price. Revived at the idea of that mercy which
is offered to sinners, and anxious to obtain the pardon of
his transgressions, he humbles himself at the feet of the di-
vine majesty, and with groanings which cannot be uttered,
he solicits for relief from the overwhelming condemnation
of a righteous God; he pants after mercy, as the hart pant-
eth after the water-brooks. Oh ! cries the poor sinner,
that I knew v^'here I might find him ! that I might come
even into his presence; that I might plead for an interest
in the blood of that Jesus who died for transgressors: save
me, Lord, save me, or I perish forever ! " Jesus, thou son of
David, have mercy upon me." To a mortal placed in
such a situation, how vain would be an injunction of silence.
SERMONS. 469
how fruitless to tell him to cease his importunities ! As
well might you recommend calmness to a drowning man,
or attempt to separate him from that plank thrown out
for his relief. As well might you forbid an individual who
is famishing for drink to abstain from quenching his
thirst. He feels sensible of his demerits; his soul "is exceed-
ing sorrowful, even unto death;" and with strong crying and
tears, he lifts up his voice to the Saviour from whence
€ometh his help. " As the hart panteth after the water-
brooks, so longeth my soul after thee, oh God. My soul is
athirst for God, yea, even for the living God; Oh, when shall
I come to appear in the presence of God ?" You perceive
the same fervor of expressions and vehemence of desire, in
the language of the convicted Israelites, as mentioned by
the Prophet Micah ; he brings to our view the case of those
who felt burdened with sin, and relates the terms, the
fervid terms, in which they inquired after God: " Where-
with shall J come before the Lord, and bow myself before
the most high God 1 shall I come before him with burnt
offerings, with calves of a year old? will the Lord be pleased
with thousands of rams, or with ten thousands of rivers of
oil ? shall I give my first born for my transgression, the
fruit of my body for the sin of my soul ?" No sacrifice that
the Lord could have required, would have been withheld
by the unhappy delinquent; the salvation of his soul en-
grossed his whole attention ; all earthly concerns were
swallowed up, in the consideration of eternal things, and he
approached the throne of grace as a needy petitioner, de-
pending upon the goodness of God for pardon and for mercy.
Again: When the penitent sinner has obtained the par-
don of transgression ; when from that relief which he ex-
periences from the goodness of God, he believes that the
Almighty, in conformity with his own promises, has granted
him the remission of his sins ; and that his crimson defile-
ments have been washed away by the blood of the Lord
Jesus Christ ; when he knows that the cries, which he
has made to the God of his salvation, have been heard, and
that the " Almighty has delivered his soul from death, his
p p 2
470
eyes from tears, and his feet from falling," gratitude to
heaven fills and elates his rejoicing breast. " I will walk,"
says he, " before God in the land of the living." I will pay
my vows of obedience unto that merciful Being who has
relieved my fainting soul ; 1 will follow Jesus in the way of
duty, and let my light shine before men. I will cleave to
the skirts of his garment, and my whole life shall be devo-
ted to his fear, and spent to his glory. What shall I ren-
der unto the Lord ? Coldness in such a liberated, par-
doned sinner, would be thought a crime: his heart so far
from losing the impression of gratitude, would be still
athirst for God, yea, even for the living God; and it will be
his meat and his drink to do his holy will. Should he be en-
gaged in conversation with his friends, with what pleasure
would he proclaim to them the goodness of the Lord !
"Come," he would say, '* and I will tell you what the
Lord has done for my soul ;" rejoice with me, for Jesus the
good Shepherd has found the sheep which was lost. To
those of you, who know that Jesus is precious; to thoje of
you who have found rest in the bosom of a sin-pardoning
Jehovah, Oh, let me recommend fervor and animation in
your devotions; be not ashamed of the Gospel of Christ,
which is the power of God unto salvation. When you
come into his temple to worship the Almighty, remember
the mercies he has conferred upon you; the present and
future blessings he hath promised to the sincere penitent ;
leave the cares, the trifling cares of the world behind you,
and let your affections be placed on heavenly considera-
tions. Bring with you the offering of an humble and
grateful heart; and let your cry be that of the penitent
publican ; *' God be merciful to me a sinner." Plead with
the Almighty for a more perfect and undivided knowledge
of your duty, " Lord what wilt thou have me to do ?" Then,
my brethren, will the Almighty descend from his throne,
and make you to know and feel that he is present in the
midst of you: then will he feed you in the fertile pastures
of the Gospel, and give you to drink of the waters of com-
fort : and prepare you by his grace for that rest provided
for his faithful people.
SERMON XV.
" Having a form of godliness, but denying the power thereof, from such
turn away." — 2 Tim. iii. 5.
The holy apostle, who, by the illuminating powers of the
Spirit, was enabled to look into the annals of futurity, in-
formed his beloved Timothy of the approach of those evils
which would sooner or later infest the Church of Christ.
He entreated him to continue steadfast in those things
which were impressed upon his mind ; to press forward
through all those difficulties which might present them-
selves to his view, and to be unwearied in his exertions to
promote the cause of vital holiness.
Among the many evils which the inspired penman was
sensible would prevail, he particularly mentions lukewarm-
ness in religion. He saw his fellow-creatures deviating
from the simplicity of the truth as it is in Jesus ; losing
their first love ; drawing back from their profession of at-
tachment to the precious Saviour; and becoming stran-
gers to the divine power of Christianity. He perceived
that a little stated attention to the external duties of re-
ligion would, by many, be esteemed sufficient, without con-
sidering that the form without the power of godliness, is
unacceptable at the throne of grace, and that the duties
of Christianity, unless they spring from the influence of the
Spirit of God, and are performed with that fervour becom-
472 SliHMONS.
ing their importance, would meet with the disapprobation
of that Being, who requires us to show forth his praise, not
only with our lips, but in our lives.
Although the necessity of devotion must appear so evi-
dent to the reflecting mind, yet how divided in opinion are
mortals upon this important point! Many are afraid that
the world will esteem them as enthusiasts, if they should
withdraw themselves from the vicious pursuits of a de-
praved age, and devote their lives to the service of the
Almighty. There are others who think that if they at-
tend upon the means of grace one day out of seven, it is
all that Jehovah has a right to expect; without considering
that every breath they draw proceeds from the goodness of
God, and that all the temporal blessings they enjoy flow
from his beneficence and care. In order, therefore, that
we may become acquainted with that duty required at our
hands, it will be proper to examine those instructive pre-
cepts delivered by Jehovah for the rule and direction of his
people, and to endeavour to regulate our lives by the stand-
ard of bis word.
In the prosecution of this duty, brethren, let us divest
our minds of prejudice, and learn of that Saviour who
was meek and lowly in heart. During the ministry of the
Redeemer, and while engaged in the work of man's salva-
tion, he was desired, by one of his hearers, to unfold to him
the first and great commandment. The blessed Jesus,
whose delight it was to benefit mankind, immediately re-
plied, " Thou shalt love the Lord thy God, with all thy
heart, and with all thy mind, and with all thy strength."
Language, brethren, is insuflicient to express the extent of
that duty, due from dependent creatures to their great
Creator ; and to impress the human mind with the nature
of that affection with which our bosoms should be anima-
ted toward the God of our salvation. When we reflect upon
the attributes of the sovereign of the world ; when we con-
sider him as the Omnipotent Creator of all things ; when we
enter into the third heavens, and see him surrounded with
thousands of thousands of glorified spirits, and hear them
SERMONS. 473
resounding his praises throughout the heavenly world;
when we behold the heavens the work of his hands, the
moon and the stars which he hath ordained ; when we
consider the blessings with which we are surrounded, and
the tokens of his love with which we have been favoured ;
the most pious worshipper has reason to accuse himself of
neglect ; to bewail the coldness of his devotions, and to ex-
claim, in the deepest self-abasement, '* Lord, what is man,
that thou art mindful of him, or the son of man that thou
visitest him ?" There are many, brethren, in every socie-
ty of Christians, who rest satisfied, and who experience a
degree of security, from an outward attendance upon the
instituted means of worship, without even wishing to be
partakers of those desires which flow from the operation of
divine grace ! Such people advance toward the temple of
the King of kings; they enter the sacred dwelling of the
Lord of Hosts ; but, instead of worshipping him in spirit
and in truth, their thoughts are wandering to the ends of
the earth ; their minds, instead of being lifted up in
prayer, are hurried away in the pursuit of temporal
things, to the dishonour of God, and the destruction of
their immortal souls. To be found in the company of
saints, is perhaps all that they think necessary. When
they hear the devout inquirer cry out in the glowing ac-
cents of supplication, "Thou Lamb of God, who takest
away the sins of the world, have mercy upon us ;" they
ridicule him as an enthusiast, and thinkit unnecessary that
prayer to be effectual should be fervent ! When they per-
ceive the tear of contrition, flowing from the weeping eye
of the repenting sinner, and see the sigh of anguish swell
his bosom, they laugh at his weakness, and censure him for
his devotional exercises. Behold such a worshipper in the
moments of his devotion ; the sacred liturgy of the Church is
perhaps before him, but he does not unite in its holy oflices ;
when the service requires him to call upon God to open his
lips, that his mouth may shew forth his praise, he remains
insensible to the necessity and force of the petition, and re-
gardless of its importance. At length his patience becomes
474 SERMONS.
exhausted, the form of godliness fatigues his mind, he wafts
with impatience for the moment when he can again eon-
verse upon the things of time, and be freed from the neces-
sity of further restraints. Likf the Jews, as it is mentioned
by Amos, he says within himself, " When will the new
moon be gone, that we may sell corn, and the Sabbath that
we may set forth wheat V His thoughts, beloved, are in
the ends of the earth, he makes the house of God a house of
merchandise ! Consider, I beseech you, the majesty of that
God who requires you to love him with all your strength ;
and reflect with sorrow upon the languor of your religious
hours; recollect the solemn awe with which the minds of
the children of Israel were impressed, at the delivery of the
law upon Mount Sinai, and be astonished at the forbear-
ance of heaven with you: " Speak thou," said the affright-
ed Israelites to JNJoses, "Speak thou with us, and we will
hear ; but let not God speak with us, lest we die;" and
shall we come into the presence of the majesty of heaven,
untouched with the fire of devotion, and mock him to his
face? Shall we come into his temple, regardless of that
God who fills it with his glory ? Shall we enter the house
dedicated to that Being, before whom angels veil their
faces, without reflecting upon the solemnity of the place,
without preparing our hearts to meet him? Shall we come
to hear of the death and sufferings of Jesus, at whose cru-
cifixion the rocks rent, (he earth quaked, and the sun was
clothed in darkness; and shall we sit in his presence unmoved
and unconcerned ? Oh, my beloved, it is not a cold, formal
attendance in the house of God which forms a devotion ac-
ceptable to heaven ; it is not the form of godliness with
which Jehovah will be satisfied! Remember, that the
most sublimated devotion falls short of what God has a
right to expect at our hands. Be not contented, therefore,
with the shadow of religion, but strive to catch a spark of
that ardour which animates the hosts of God ! Be not eon-
tented with having your names recorded upon the baptis-
mal register, but strive to have them written in the Lamb's
book of life, and endeavour to worship our Jesus in the
SERMONS. 475
beauty of holiness. Remember the unhappy state of the
Church of Sardis ; they had a name that they lived, but
still they were declared by the Spirit of God to be dead ;
they had the form, but they wanted the power of godli-
ness. "Be watchful," therefore, said the heavenly messen-
ger, " Be watchful, and stret)gthen the things which are
ready to die, for I have not found thy works perfect before
God."
We, like that Church, may abound in religious cere-
monies; yet unless our hearts are engaged in worship; un-
less we feel the power of Christianity influencing our con-
duct; unless we enter with spirit and zeal into our services,
we shall be found a sounding brass and a tinkling symbol;
and at last be banished from the presence of God, with a
" Depart, ye cursed, ye workers of iniquity, I never knew
you." But methinks I hear some of you exclaiming, is
the form of godliness of no eiTect ? I have contented my-
self, year after year, with the assurance that an attendance
upon public worship constituted me a follower of the
Lamb! I have, indeed, frequently been employed, while
within the courts of the Lord's House, in concerting schemes
for the advancement of my worldly interest; but still I
indulged a hope that my presence within the walls of the
sanctuary, would atone for my cold-heartedness, and that
the repetition of prayer, though my heart was unaffected,
would be acceptable at the throne of grace. If this should
be the language of any individual present, permit me to
assure him of his danger; Satan, like a roaring lion, is
seeking to devour you ; he has lulled you into a fatal se-
curity ; he has cried peace to you vi'hen there is no peace
— for the ways of religion, to the people of God, are the
ways of pleasantness ; one day spent in the courts of the
Lord, is better than a thousand. To worship God accept-
ably, therefore, we must draw near to him as those who
have business of eternal importance to transact ; we must
remember that life is uncertain, and that the opportunity
with which we are favoured may be our last ; earnest,
therefore, must we be in our supplications, provided we
476 SEKMONS.
expect to prevail ; like the Phoenician woman, our minds
must be directed to Jesus as our only good; and we
must press through the crowd, that our souls may be heal-
ed. Unless this is our desire, we shall find that our situa-
tion will resemble that of the Jews : " This people," said
God, " draw near me with their mouth, and with their
lips do honour me, but have removed their heart far from
me ; therefore, behold, I will proceed to do a marvellous
work among this people — for the wisdom of their wise men
shall perish, and the understanding of their prudent men
shall be hid."
Again; Should any of you doubt, respecting that effect
which vital religion ever produces upon the minds of those
who love the Saviour in sincerity, I would advise you to con-
sult the experience of the humble follower of Christ ; ask
him whether he does not enjoy a comfort in religion,
which the pleasures of the world could never afford him;
ask him to relate to you those exercises of grace which
support him under trouble, and render him resigned to the
will of God. To such inquiries, beloved, you would find a
ready answer; yes, he would tell you, in the accents of
gratitude, religion is, indeed, the anchor of my soul ! Oft
has it cheered my heart, when all around was gloomy;
1 prize it as my greatest comfort; when weary and heavy
laden on my journey home, it cheers my fainting spirit; its
promises assure me of a rest for the people of God ; the
page of Scripture opens to my view a better world, where
all my sorrows shall be terminated, and a beloved Jesus
stands ready to receive me.
That this is not an imaginary state of things, appears
evident from those ardent breathings of devotion, re-
corded in the Sacred VV^ritings. That confidence in God,
expressed by the Prophet llabbakkuk, could never have
arisen from the form of godliness alone; the declara-
tions of his reliance upon Jehovah, under all the vicis-
situdes and changes of life, is a demonstration clear as the
sun, that he had drunk deep at the fountain of vital
piety, and that his mind was invigorated by the power of
religion: "Although the fig-tree shall not blossom, neither
SERMONS. 477
shall fruit be in the vine ; the labour of the olive shall fail,
and the fields shall yield no meat ; the flock shall be cut
off from the fold, and there shall be no herd in the stalls;
yet I will rejoice in the Lord, I will joy in the God of my
salvation." The Psalmist likewise experienced the same
seraphic ardour ; the contemplation of divine things so en-
gaged his mind, that language, in all its glowing numbers,
could not describe the sensations of his soul; his desires
after^God were so ardent that his devotions were expressed
in the accents of angelic fervour : " As the hart panteth
after the water-brooks, so longeth my soul after thee, oh,
God! My soul is athirst for God, yea, even for the living
God ! oh, when shall I come to appear in the presence of
God? "At another time we behold him carrying his pro-
fessions of love to the feet of the throne, and declaring in
the presence of God the unbounded affection which ani-
mated and fired his soul : " Whom have I in heaven but
thee, and there is none upon earth that I desire in com-
parison of thee; my heart and my flesh faileth, but God
is the strength of my heart, and my portion forever."
When we take a view of the lives of the Apostles, and
consider the cruel sufferings to which they were sub-
jected, we must be convinced that it was the povrer
of godliness which supported and upheld them; had
they possessed nothing but the form of religion, their
hearts would have failed them in the hour of their trials,
and they would have shrunk from the tribulation which
awaited them ; but when persecution reared her snaky
crest ; when multitudes who had rejoiced for a season in
their light, left them unassisted ; when they who had made
the air to echo with hosannas, now cried crucify, crucify
them! how steadfast were they in support of the truth !
The power of godliness, like an anchor within the vail,
enabled them to ride out the storm, and to seal their minis-
try with their blood. Ye who sit contented beneath the
shade of a form of godliness, and who deny the power
thereof, for an instant cast your eyes upon the martyr
Stephen ; see him surrounded by the enemies of the Lord
478 SERMONS.
Jesus ! Behold them with uplifted hands preparing the
deadly blow ! See him falling to the earth a martyr in
the Saviour's cause, calling, in his last expiring moments,
for mercy upon his murderers : " Lord, lay not," said he,
" this sin to their charge !" Take a view of him, I say, and
then ask your hearts whether there must not be some
animating principle in religion — some precious corner-stone
uniting the believer to his God — some sure foundation upon
which to build the superstructure of his hopes?
As a further contirmation of the influence of vital god-
liness upon the soul, consider, for a moment, the sufferings
of Job; enter the ruins of his once stately dwelling — where
are all the children of his bosom? where is all the riches
with which he was possessed? Behold the man himself
destitute of every earthly enjoyment, covered with wounds,
and bruises, and putrefying sores ! When the Almighty had
represented Job as one that feared God and eschewed evil,
the accuser of the brethren, surveying his wealth, and
enumerating his comforts, replied: "Doth Job serve God
for nought ? Put forth thine hand now and touch all that
he hath, and he will curse thee to thy face." To prove
the falsity of the charge, and to show the power of godli-
ness, the Almighty said, " Behold, all that Job hath is in
thy power, only upon himself put not forth thine hand!"
Satan then attempted his seduction, but he attempted it
in vain; Job stood like the house that was built upon a
rock, the storms and tempest of adversity drove him nearer
to his God. Yes, though destitute of humaji comforts, his
union with Jehovah supported him; he knew that he was
in the hands of a merciful God, and influenced by the
power of godliness, he exclaimed, "Though he slay me,
yet will I trust in him."
Saint Polycarp furnishes us with another conclusive tes-
timony in favour of the reality of religion, or the power of
godliness in the support of the believer under trials. When
desired by the Proconsul, to whose custody he was deliver-
ed, to swear by Cagsar's fortune, and to reproach Christ,
in order that he might be restored to his liberty, the aged
SERMONS. 479
follower of the Saviour answered : " Eighty-six years have I
now served Christ, and he has never done me the least
wrong ; how, then, can I blaspheme my king and my Sa-
viour?" When brought to the place of execution, and when
they had prepared the materials with which to burn him,
they wished to nail him to the stake : " Let me alone,"
said he, " as I am, for he who has given me strength to
endure the fire, will also enable me, without your securing
me by nails, to stand without moving in this pile !" Yes,
beloved, he not only met his fate with composure, but as
a proof of the truth of what he professed, he declared while
in that situation that he esteemed it his glory to die a mar-
tyr iu the cause of Jesus : ".I give thee hearty thanks, O
Lord God Almighty, that thou hast vouchsafed to bring
me to this day, and to this hour, that I should have a part
in the number of thy martyrs, in the cup of thy Christ."
To conclude ; In the resignation and triumph of these
holy martyrs, we are presented with an evidence powerful
and conclusive, that they who are born of God, and united
to the Lord Jesus Christ by faith, will be supported under
trials, and made more than conquerors over every difficulty.
Had they possessed nothing but a form of godliness, the
dangers to which they were exposed would have overconrfe
their fortitude, and they would have abandoned without
hesitation the profession which they had made ; but that
faith which is the substance of things hoped for, and the
evidence of things not seen ; that faith which is the gift of
God, to the confusion of their enemies, enabled them^to
triumph in the flames, and opened heaven to their view
amidst a shower of stones. Remember, beloved, that al-
though we may never be called to suffer as these holy men;
although, like St. Stephen, we may never be stoned to
death, nor like Polycarp be committed to the flames for our
attachment to the Saviour, still trials we all must meet,
so on erorlater. To be prepared for the pains of a dying
bed, and for the dissolution of our bodies, is our duty and
our interest; remember, then, that the form of godliness
will avail you nothing at that solemn period ; what advan-
480 SEBMONS.
tage will the unconverted sinner derive from the circunn-
stance of having assembled himself with the people of God,
unless his heart has been changed by divine grace, and an
obedience to the will of Jehovah has marked his conduct,
to say at the bar of judgment, Lord, we have eaten and
drunk in thy presence; our names were upon the record of
the Church, and we belonged to such a society of professing
Christians 1 What will all this avail, unless we add to the
form of godliness the power thereof; unless we show the
world, and prove to our own hearts, and manifest to our
God, that the religion we profess is the religion of the heart,
and our faith, that faith which worketh by love ? When
John the Baptist was on earth, many came to receive his
baptism, whose pretensions to true religion he questioned;
to oblige them to prove that they possessed the power of
godliness, he told them to " bring forth fruits meet for re-
pentance, for the axe," said he, " is laid to the root of the
tree; every tree, therefore" — call it by what name you
please — " every tree which bringeth not forth good fruit,
shall be hewn down and cast into the fire." Examine
yourselves, therefore, brethren — prove your own selves;
nay, I would recommend it to you, to go to the feet of
Jksus, and entreat liim to search you: " Search me, God,
and know my heart; try me, and prove my thoughts, and
see if there be any way of wickedness in me, and lead me
in the way everlasting." Under the influence of these
thi^s, you will advance in the Christian life; you will grow
in'^ra'ce, and in the nurture and admonition of the Lord ;
your Saviour will support you in the hour of distress; he
will go with you through the valley and shadow of death,
and at last receive you into bliss, with " Come, ye blessed
of my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from
the foundation of the world."
SERMON XVI.
" And he stretched forth his hand towards his disciples and said, Be-
hold my mother and my brethren." — Matthew, xii. 49.
Wheiv we reflect upon those expressions of tenderness
and compassion which flowed from the lips of the Redeemer,
the gratitude of the sincere believer is most powerfully-
excited; the love of the Lord Jesus Christ kindles in his
bosom the most rapturous feelings of devotion, and he is
constrained to yield him the most cheerful and glowing
obedience.
Before the incarnation of the Saviour; before he vacated
his throne, and descended upon earth to carry into effect
the purposes of redemption, he evidenced his compassion
for the human family in the presence of the celestial host;
to the astonishment of angels and archangels, he deter-
mined to avert the wrath of God from a guilty world, and
offered himself a sacrifice for sin. When man was involved
in misery; when every door of escape was closed; when
Satan reigned triumphant, and was exulting in the ruin
he had produced ; when the regions of misery echoed with
the rude transports of infernal joy; when there was no eye
to pity, and no arm to save the apostate children of men,
then did Jesus, the Redeemer, offer himself a ransom for
sinners, and consent to bear that punishment which would
Qq2
483 SERMONS.
have crushed in ruin a guilty world. Wh^n angels, perhaps,
were silent; when their harps were hung upon the willows,
at that sad prospect of misery which awaited the descend-
ants of a fallen Adam, then did the compassionate Jesus
advance before the throne of Jehovah, propose himself as
the Mediator between God and man, and declare himself
ready to meet the most rigorous demands of divine justice:
" Lo," said he, " I come to do thy will, God ; in the vo-
lume of the book it is written of me, that I should fulfil
thy will, God! I am content to do it, yea, thy law is
within my heart ;" as if he had said, in the volume of
Scripture it is written, "That the seed of the woman
should bruise the serpent's head;" in the volume of Scrip-
ture it is written, that the Redeemer of man "should be
wounded for the transgressions of mankind, and bruised for
their iniquities:" and that the Lord would lay upon him
the iniquity of all the human family. In conformity with
these prophetic declarations, he substituted himself in the
sinner's place, satisfied the divine justice, preserved the
veracity of God, and rendered it possible for Jehovah to be
just and immutable in his denunciations against sin, and
yet the justifier of him who believeth in Jesus.
In the fulness of time, when the important work of re-
demption was to be completed by his sufferings, he left the
regions of glory, where adoring seraphs were chaunting his
praises, and took upon him our nature. When the cherubic
train, animated with his love to man, proclaimed his na-
tivity to the shepherds, the Sut) of Righteousness arose ;
his joyful rays illumined a benighted world, and reflected
upon man the light of immortality and bliss.
As the Redeemer advanced in life, his conduct formed a
conclusive evidence of his benevolence and love ; he went
about doing good, imparting vision to those who were in-
volved in darkness, and enabling the lame to walk; he
preached the Gospel to the poor, and invited the heavy-
laden sirmer, however complicated his offences, to fly to
him for succour.
SERMONS. 483
was engaged wheii he was informed that his mother and
his brethren stood without, desiring to speak with him.
The multitude imagined that the Messiah's particular re-
gard was due to his immediate relatives, and that they, as
comparative strangers, had but a secondary claim to his
consideration; but that Being, whose sympathy and affec-
tion is universal, in language of parental tenderness thus
interrogated the messenger, " Who is my mother, and who
are my brethren V Art thou insensible to the nature of
my office; is my heart a stranger to the wants of any of
the human family ; are not all who listen to my voice, and
conform to my precepts, allied to me by the dearest tie of
affection? Look around you, observe those weeping peni-
tents who are lamenting their sins, and seeking counsel at
my lips ! It is such who have an interest in my regard
and demand my pastoral care ; it is for such that I have
undertaken to labour and to die; "and he stretched forth
his hand toward his disciples, and said, behold my mother
and my brethren;" in them I am well pleased; they have
taken up my cross, and are pressing toward a better
world.
As the concerns of eternity, brethren, are of the most
lasting importance, and as the least mistake may be pro-
ductive of the most serious consequences, the path to hea-
ven is rendered by the Scriptures so plain, that " the way-
faring man, though a fool, need not err therein." The
blessed Jesus, therefore, in the verse immediately succeed-
ing the text, has furnished us with a criterion, by which
we are to distinguish his disciples from the children of
the world ; and as we are to judge ourselves by the same
rule by which we form an estimate of others, it behoves
us to examine our hearts with the strictest scrutiny, in
order that we may ascertain our title to celestial joys.
" Whosoever," said Christ, "shall do the will of my father
which is in heaven, the same is my brother, my sister, and
my mother."
The Christian, who considers the Lord Jesus as an infal-
lible teacher, and who receives his declaration as the
484 SERMONS.
standard by which to judge of the pretensions of mankind,
must believe that the presumptuous offender, the man who
habitually violates the precepts of heaven, can have no
solid reason to conclude that he is in a state of safety. He
who lives regardless of the Almighty, who tramples upon
his authority, and who refuses to live in subjection to his
moral government, instead of viewing the Saviour as his
brother, has just cause of alarm. The man whose object
of worship is the world, whose chief delight is found in the
gratification of his passions, in scenes of dissipation, of riot,
and of profaneness, cannot come within the description of
those who do the will of God. The man to whom the wor-
ship of Jehovah is a burden ; who holds no intercourse
with the Almighty in prayer; and in whose view the duties
of religion possess no charms, can have no claim to the dis-
tinguished character of an heir of immortal joys, the child
of God.
To afford you an opportunity to judge of your connec-
tion to the Lord Jesus, and to discern whether ye are en-
titled to the appellation of his mother, his sister, or his bro-
ther, I will give you the general outlines of the Christian
character ; outlines, brethren, drawn from the sacred wri-
tings, and warranted by the declarations of the Saviour
himself.
One of the first marks belonging to the believer, a dis-
tinctive feature acknowleged by Christians of all denomina-
tions, consists in a heart-felt knowledge and confession of
sin. Thus the Psalmist, *' I acknowledge my transgression,
and my sin is ever before me ;" " I will confess my trans-
gression unto the Lord, and so thou forgavest the iniquity
of my sin.'- Connected with a true confession and sorrow
for sin, will be found a disposition to supplicate Jehovah
for pardon, and to ask for the assistance of his Spirit to
enable the penitent to conform his life in future to the glory
of God. Thus, you perceive, that when David was con-
vinced of sin he entreated for mercy and forgiveness;
" Have mercy upon me, O God, according to thy loving
kindness; according unto the multitude of thy tender mer-
SERMONS. 4S5
cies blot out my transgressions ;" " Teach me to do thy
will, for thou art my God." The same disposition was
evidenced by the publican in the temple, " God be merci-
ful to me a sinner;" and by Peter, who "went out and
wept bitterly." This act of prayer the believer considers
not only as a duty, but views it as his greatest privilege ; to
be deprived of that comfort would obscure his prospects
and break his heart. Knowing that the Almighty has de-
clared, " Call upon me in the day of trouble, and I will
hear thee;" believing that the Lord Jesus has said, "Ask
and ye shall have, seek and ye shall find, knock and it
shall be opened unto you;" recollecting that the apostle
has enjoined him to " pray without ceasing," he engages
in the exercise of it with pleasure ; and finds from its de-
vout use, that it produces a tranquillity of mind which the
world can neither give nor take away.
Another feature in the Christian's character consists in
his attachment to the public worship of Almighty God.
Jehovah having, by a solemn mandate, commanded an ob-
servance of the Sabbath', he repairs to the sacred temple
with alacrity, to mingle his devotions with the people of
God ; and to worship the father of his spirit, the author of
all his comforts, in the beauty of holiness. Instead of view-
ing it as a burden, he acknowledges the goodness of God in
the appointment of it, and exultingly says with the Psalm-
ist, " I was glad when they said unto me, let us go into the
the house of the Lord," " for one day spent in his courts, is
better than a thousand ;" convinced of the beneficial ef-
fects arising from an observance of the Sabbath, he brings
his children with him, in order that they may partake also
of those blessings dispensed by the King of saints. While
within the walls of the sanctuary, he recollects that it is
the place where Jehovah more particularly dwelleth ; a
solemn seriousness pervades his whole conduct ; he is at-
tentive to the word of God as it is read and preached ; he
comes into the temple of the Great Eternal, not as a critic
but the humble follower of Christ, and his prayers are of-
fered up with that solemnity which becometh the house of
God.
486 SERMONS.
Public devotion, brethren, however delightful in prac-
tice, doth not satisfy the desires of the true believer; when
at home with his family — with his wife and children — those
dear and beloved objects of his affection, he calls them
around him, and trains them in the nurture and admonition
of the Lord ; he invokes, with his morning and evening de-
votions, the superintending care of Jehovah ; he commits
his children to the care of that God whose presence is bet-
ter than life ; he teaches them to remember their Creator
in the days of their youth, and by his pious example pre-
pares them for a better world. Conscious of the uncer-
tainty of human life, he endeavours to fit them for the
skies; knowing that he and they must appear before the
judgment seat of God, he strives to prepare them for that
solemn event, in order that with them he may be received
into heaven, and, in union with his little charge, sing the
praises of redeeming grace.
The sacrament of the Last Supper having been insti-
tuted by the Redeemer, as commemorative of his death
and passion, the Christian embraces it with gratitude and
joy ; and at those periods when the table of the Lord in-
vites his attendance, he approaches it with devotion and
respect. Conscious of his own unworthiness, but confiding
in the mercy of that God who instituted it for his observ-
ance, he draws near with humility of heart, and eats the
bread and drinks the cup, not only in remembrance of the
death of Christ, but as a feast to strengthen and invigorate
his good resolutions. In the discharge of this particular
duty, he manifests his love to the Saviour, confessing his
dependance upon his mercy, and acknowledging him in the
presence of the world.
Is the believer blessed with plenty and to spare? he con-
tributes to the relief of the poor and the distressed. With
his alms he clothes the naked, he feeds the hungry, he
binds up the broken-hearted, and wipes the tear of sor-
rowfrom. the eye of the widow and her fatherless chil-
dren.
In the intercourse which the Christian holds with the
world, he observes that steady and habitual piety becoming
SERMONS. 487
his connexion with the Saviour. He is cheerful without
improper levity; he is happy because he has reason to
hope that the Ruler of the Universe is his friend. Con-
scious of his own fallibility he feels for the fallibility of
others, and throws the veil of charity over the faihngs of
his fellow creatures. He is displeased with sin, but for the
transgressor he mourns, and supplicates mercy for him at
the hands of God. In his retired moments he embraces in
his prayers the whole family of mankind, and supplicates
God for those who never think of supplicating heaven for
themselves.
Is he injured ? You discover in his conduct no disposition
of revenge. Conscious of his own failings, he forgives as
he hopes to be forgiven. In a word, the light which he
has derived from heaven, is reflected upon the world in his
general deportment ; that all who know him may perceive
that he has been with Jesus ; that he has been taught in
the school of Christ ; instructed in those pure principles
which distinguish Christianity. Such, brethren, form the
characteristic features of the true believer. With such a
Being, the Saviour holds the most intimate fellowsliip and
communion, vpitnessing with his spirit, that he is the child
of God, the undoubted heir of glory.
In the season of affliction, for affliction is the lot of all
he maintains, through the assistance of divine grace, his con-
fidence in God. The winds of distress may blow, and the
rain of adversity may unite in an attack upon his comfort;
but founded upon a rock he feels secure, and enjoys that
peace which the world can neither give nor take away.
That God, to whose care he has confided his eternal inte-
rests, prepares him for every event, and will make " his
light affliction, which is but for a moment, work for him a
far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory." Death
may enter his abode, and rob him of his dearest friends; the
child of his affections may be torn from his embrace; the
partner of his bosom may be levelled with the dust; but
that Jesus, who views him through the medium of fraternal
488 SEKMONS.
affection, will inspire his mind with fortitude, and enable
hinn to meet his distresses without a murmur. " The Lord
gave, and the Lord hath taken away, blessed, forever
blessed, be the name of the Lord." He knows that the
separation will be momentary; he knows that the candi-
dates which he has fitted for the skies, have entered into
rest; he knows that they have exchanged mansions of mor-
tality, houses of clay, tabernacles of dust, for an house not
made with hands eternal in the heavens. The tomb to
him is divested of its horrors — the Saviour has stripped it
of its terrific scenery, and planted it with evergreens. He
sees inscribed upon its walls, — this is the gate of heaven, the
pilgrim's way to Paradise.
View him in his last conflict with the king of terrors ;
view the Christian, the friend, the brother, of the Lord
Jesus Christ, — view him in his last expiring moments. Death
to him appears a vanquished foe, spoiled of his terrors by
the King of saints; he addresses the grim tyrant without a
fear, " Oh, death, thou hast lost thy sting." His counte-
nance speaks the animating language of hope — sorrow not
for me, he exclaims to his weeping family, let not your ten-
derness detain my ascending spirit. " I have a desire to
depart, that I may be with Christ."
To conclude, Brethren, we have shown you that love for
fallen man, induced the J^aviour to vacate his throne to
minister to the wants of the human family, and to open a
way for us into the courts of bliss. We have shown you
the portrait of the believer, the friend of God, the near re-
lative, the brother, the sister, the mother of Jesus. We
have shown you the support they will experience in dis-
tress, their triumph over death and the grave. Do we
wish to partake of the benefits of the Redeemer's mission,
and to secure to ourselves an interest in his favour? If
we do, we must take up his cross and follow him in the
way. To cry Lord, Lord, he has assured us will not profit
us, unless we do his will. (To profess his religion, and to
follow him at a distance, will not answer the purposes of
SERMONS 489
salvation.) To enjoy his presence, we nnust make him the
man of our counsel ; we must cultivate by'prayer, an inti-
mate union with him here. We must deny ourselves every
thing which is opposed to the purity of his religion — we
must not attempt to reconcile God and the maxims of the
world: we cannot serve two masters — choose ye, therefore,
whom ye will serve, and let that choice, I pray you, be
Jesus Christ.
Again. Let us keep in view the uncertainty of human
life, and endeavour to live in such a manner, as to secure
to ourselves the approbation of God, and of our own hearts.
In the hour of indisposition we shall never lament having
made those sacrifices which religion requires at our hands.
If we separate ourselves from sin, we shall dwell with de-
light upon the recollection of that separation when sick-
ness and death shall arrest us. Our departing moments under
such circumstances, will be composed and tranquil. The
Redeemer, whom we have loved and served, will watch
around us, and comfort us with the assurance of his favour;
and in the last great day of account, he will acknowledge
us as the purchase of his blood, and in the face of an as-
sembled universe will own us as his people, and receive us
into rest.
Professors of religion, reflect upon the connexion in
which you stand to your Saviour. He views you through
the tender medium of his mother and his brethren, a con-
nexion at the name of which the heart of a cherub would be
dilated with joy, and heaven resound with their anthems of
gratitude and love. Support then, I beseech you, by your
example, his cause ; adorn the Gospel of God our Saviour
in all things ; and " be not weary in well doing, for in due
time you shall reap if you faint not."
Communicants, behold the altar of your Redeemer pre-
pared for your approach. It is a feast of fat things to
which you have been invited. Here is pardon for the con-
victed penitent, for it is the blood of Christ Jesus which
cleanseth from all sin; here is rest for the weary and heavy
490 SKRMONS.
laden; for the promise has been made by him who cannot
deceive you; "Come unto me all 5^e who labour and are
heavy laden, and I will give you rest;" here is food to
strengthen you on your journey through life; for my body,
saith the Redeemer, is meat indeed. The invitation is as
unbounded as his mercy, " Ho every one that thirsteth,
come ye to the waters, and he that hath no money, come
buy and eat, yea, come buy wine and milk without money,
and without price." At the feast of an earthly potentate,
would tlie invitation be given to the children of fortune,
and confined to those who roll in splendor and fare sump-
tuously every day. At this feast of a God of mercy, the King
of kings and the Lord of lords, all distinction is overlooked,
except that which arises from a knowledge of our spiritual
indigence, and a willingness tc comply with the benevolent
summons; high and low, rich and poor, provided they are
true penitents, meet together at the table of the Lord
Jesus upon an equality, none of the guests will be consi-
dered strangers by the master of the feast; but if their
hearts are humble, and their desires after holiness fervent,
they will be received as members of his family, and while
surrounding the altar, the Saviour will look down in com-
placency upon them, and say, " behold my mother and my
brethren." If you wish to form a connexion with one who
is able to help you in distress, come to the bosom of your
Saviour; if you wish to secure to yourselves a refuge in the
hour of death, come to your Redeemer; come to a friend
who sticketh closer than a brother; a friend who will never
leave you or forsake you ; if you wish to secure to your-
selves a shelter from the storm of the last judgment, come
to the Lord Jesus Clirist; come to that Being who is ap-
pointed judge of quick and dead, and who has solemnly
declared, " Whosoever shall confess me before men, him
will I confess before my Father, and his holy angels."
It is done as thou hast commanded, most merciful Re-
deemer, and yet there is room. Lord Jesus, thy message
has been sincerely delivered to rational intelligents— these
sBRHoys. 491
dear people have been pressed and solicited to attend the
summons of thy mercy. Still many of them refuse ! Remove,
God, remove the impediments which prevent their com-
pliance — constrain them by thy grace to yield to the solici-
tations of thy love — to break their league with sin, and to
accept thy proffered mercy. Now to God the Father. Son,
and Spirit, be present and everlasting praise.
SERMON XVII
" And God saw their works, that they turned from their evil way ; and
God repented of the evil that he had said that he would do unto them>
and he did it not." — Jonah, iii. 10.
The history of Jonah and also of the Ninevites, to whom
he was sent upon an errand of compassion, contains those
evidences of the goodness and benevolence of Deity, which
are calculated to aifect the heart, and to awaken the
gratitude of every rational intelligent^^
On the one hand, the tenderness of the Almighty, in de-
puting a messenger of mercy to visit a people abandoned
to every transgression, strikes the mind with irresistible
force; on the other, the forbearance of God to a disobedi-
ent, rash, and repining Prophet, awakens the attention,
and impresses the heart with the fullest conviction that the
long suffering mercy of Jehovah runs parallel with his
power.
Nineveh was the capital of the Assyrian Empire ; great
in the number of its population; and remarkable for its
wealth. The prosperity it enjoyed was productive of all
those demoralizing effects which too frequently grow out of
such a state of things. Instead of awakening the devotion
of its inhabitants, their rebellious practices were in propor-
tion to their riches; their inconsideration kept pace with
the profusion they enjoyed. Their wickedness was so
flagrant and outrageous in its character, that it went up be-
sEEMO^s. 493
fore God, to testify against the people; and to present the
charge of their Hcentiousness at the tribunal of the great
Eternal.
To this people, wicked and depraved as they were,
Jonah was sent by the Almighty with a message of peace.
He was enjoined to proclaim their approaching ruin ; but
as the sequel of the history proves, it was the intention of
heaven that the ruin he proclaimed should be averted, by
their repentance and reformation. Their danger was to
be presented to their view, before the stroke of vengeance
was to be inflicted. The warning voice of a God of mercy
w^as to be sounded in their ears, prior to their destruction ; a
door of escape was to open, and they were to be entreated
to embrace the proposed deliverance, before Nineveh and
its guilty inhabitants should be cut off at a stroke, and
plunged in ruin. " Arise," said Jehovah to the Prophet, " and
go to Nineveh, that great city, and cry against it; for their
wickedness is come up before me."
, The danger which awaited the people, is evident from
the expression of Jonah's commission. He was ordered to
proceed wilh haste, and to be earnest in his expostulation.
His message was to be delivered in the most public man-
ner, not whispered in a corner but proclaimed upon the
house tops, that every individual might be warned, and be
made sensible of his danger. "Arise, and go to Nineveh
that great city, and cry against it."
Jonah, instead of obeying the command of the Almighty,
embarked in a ship for Tarshish; and vainly thought by
such an expedient, to have escaped the presence of the
Lord. His disobedience arose, as we are informed bv him-
self, from that conviction of the mercy and loving kindness
of the Almighty which rested upon his mind. He was
confident that provided the Ninevites should attend to his
message and repent of their sins, the Almighty would re-
verse the sentence he had pronounced against them, forgive
them their iniquities, and subject him to the pain of being
viewed a-s a false Prophet. He had forgotten, that the
R R ;^
494 SER.1IOXS.
threatenings, as well as the promises of God, are conditional.
He liad forgotten, that a threatened punishment is never
inflicted, except upon such as wilfully persevere in sin, and
that the promises of the Almighty are only made good to
those who obey his voice, and practice his precepts.
To avoid the ditficulty to which he considered himself
exposed, provided the Ninevites should repent ; to free
himself from the charge of proclaiming a punishment, which
would not be carried into effect; he rashly ventured to act
in opposition to the declared will of God, and to neglect a
duty imposed upon him by the Judge of all the earth.
Under this delusion of mind, he took ship, determined to
go to Tarshish. But whither could he go to escape the all-
searching eye of God? He took indeed the wings of the
morning, with an intention to fly to the uttermost parts of
the sea; but to his astonishment found that the swifter
hand of the Almighty had preceded him in his flight, and
arrested him in his rebellious course ; a violent tempest
overtook the ship in which he had embarked; and when
the lot was cast, in order to ascertain the individual on
whose account the wind and the sea thus awfully raged,
the guilt rested upon Jonah. He confessed his sin, and
pleaded guilty to the charge. " Take me up," said he, " and
cast me into the sea, so shall the sea be calm unto you; for
I know that for my sake this great tempest is upon you.
So they took up Jonah and cast him forth into the sea, and
the sea ceased from her raging." The mercy of God was
signally displayed upon the occasion, embraced in this part
of my subject. Jonah's rebellion arose from the opinion he
entertained of the compassion of Deity, and the expectation
under which he laboured, that upon the repentance of the
Ninevites, the compassion of the Almighty would be ex-
tended to them. Notwithstanding, however, hi? opposition
to the divine command, the mercy he would have withheld
from others was vouchsafed to hini. Instead of perishing
for his rebellion, a large fish was mercifully prepared by
the Almighty, in whose bowels Jonah was preserved from
495
destruction, and again restored to his country and his
friends.
After so extraordinary a punishment, and so signal a de-
liverance, it would have been reasonable to suppose, that
the mind of Jonah would have been divested of all opposi-
tion to the proceedings of the Almighty; that he would have
bent with submission to his will ; that the compassion of
God would have engrossed his whole soul, and formed the
unceasing theme of his discourse. The sequel of the his-
tory, however, proves, that such was not the case ; his
rashness was more than once evinced, and more than once
was that rashness mercifully pardoned.
The commission which Jonah had formerly received was
repeated after his restoration; and he was ordered to re-
pair instantly to Nineveh, and to proclaim its approach-
ing destruction. The salvation of those people formed the
object of the divine attention ; and Jehovah was determined
to arouse them from their lethargy, and to awaken them to
their danger.
In compliance with the divine mandate, the Prophet
went to Nineveh, and in the streets of that licentious city
announced the impending calamity: " Yet forty days, and
Nineveh shall be overthrown." It was not by war, that
the destruction ol which he spake was to be accomplished ;
it was not by pestilence, which would have been attributed
to local causes, that they were to be awakened ; the moral
disease under which they laboured was such as to require
the most potent remedy ; the judgment, therefore, was to
be of a description which would speak the source from
which it came ; the hand of God was to be fully manifested,
and the power of the great Eternal was to be seen, and
felt, and heard by its guilty inhabitants: " Yet forty days,"
cried the Prophet, " and Nineveh shall be overthrown,"
— razed to its foundation — swallowed up.
It is supposed, that the mariners who had cast the
prophet into the sea, or that Jonah himself, had informed
the Ninevites of his former disobedience, and his wonderful
preservation ; and that the tidings of his miraculous escape
496 SERMONS.
had impressed them with a beUef in the God of Israel, and
prepared their minds for the reception of his message. The
king of Nineveh, as soon as the declaration of Jonah reached
his ears, attended to the communication. In token of his
penitence, he arose from his throne, laid by his robe of
state, the badge of his imperial dignity, and covered him-
self with sackcloth ; he ordered a fast to be instituted, and
that it should be proclaimed through the city, for the ob-
servance of its inhabitants: " Let neither man nor beast,
herd nor flock, taste any thing ; let them not feed nor drink
water, but let man and beast be covered with sackcloth,
and cry mightily unto God ; let them turn every one from
his evil way, and from the violence that is in their hands.
VV'ho can tell if God will turn and repent, and turn away
from his fierce anger, that we perish not ?"
The period allotted for the destruction of Nineveh was
at the very door ; forty days formed but a short time for
those to live who had never thought of a dying hour, and
in whose minds the idea of future responsibility had never,
perhaps, for a moment found admission. To be separated
from all their usual festivities; to see their flourishing
city overthrown by the convulsive movements of the
earth; to see its riotous inhabitants swallowed up, and
buried in an instant, formed a consideration which excited
their fears, produced a reformation, and brought them
upon their knees at the footstool of the Almighty.
What a sudden, what a happy change was efTected in a
few hours ! A whole people, who had never thought of God;
a people whose wickedness had reached to heaven ; a peo-
ple whose time had been devoted to dissipation, and every
excess; to see them change their course of life, disrobe
themselves of their costly attire and put on sackcloth, re-
linquish their feasts and consent to fast, give up their songs
of riot, and with those tongues with which they hadoflended
the majesty of heaven, crying mightily unto God for mercy !
How transporting the scene! Their penitence was so im-
pressive, that the compassion of the Almighty was awakened;
^here was joy among the angels of God ; the destroying
SERMONS. 497
angel was commanded to sheathe his sword : " God saw
their works, that they turned from their evil way ; and God
repented of the evil that he had said he would do unto
them, and he did it not."
The subject under consideration furnishes us with one
continued proof of the forbearing mercy of God, and is
calculated to represent that attribute in colours the most
glowing; the waywardness of Jonah, and the indulgence
with which he was treated, notwithstanding that way-
wardness; the sins of the Ninevites, and the pardon se-
cured by their penitence, are proofs demonstrative that
God willeth not the death of a sinner, but rather that he
should turn and live ; that prayer, if offered in sincerity,
will be heard, and the sinner be forgiven.
We perceive, to our astonishment and surprise, that the
sparing mercy of God to the Ninevites displeased Jonah,
and produced in his mind the most angry emotions; the
fear that his reputation as a prophet would be called in
question, alarmed his pride. He had cried in the streets
of the city, " Yet forty days, and Nineveh shall be de-
stroyed;" and rather than his veracity should be disputed,
he appears to have been solicitous, that his prediction
should have been carried into effect, though Nineveh and
her tens of thousands should have been buried in its ruins:
*' It displeased Jonah exceedingly, and he was very angry,
and said : I pray thee, O Lord, was not this my saying
when I was yet in my country ; therefore I fled before thee
into Tarshish ; for 1 know that thou art a gracious God,
and merciful, slow to anger, and of great kindness, and re-
penteth thee of the evil ; therefore now, O Lord, take, I
beseech thee, my life from me ; for it is better for me to die
than to live."
At the first view we take of the rash and inconsiderate
conduct displayed in this petition of Jonah, we are led to
conclude that a temper so ungodly had never before existed
in the bosom of man, and that no individual but himself
had ever been displeased by the grant of the divine mercy
to the penitent ; but upon a fuller investigation of the sub-
498 SEBMONS.
ject, we discover that similar instances of unfeeling dis-
pleasure are to be found upon the Sacred Records; we
perceive the same temper, brethren, manifested during the
ministry of the Saviour, by the Scribes and Pharisees ; for
when the Lord Jesus manifested his compassion towards
publicans and sinners, their indignation was excited, and
they murmured at the Redeemer's clemency.
The same disposition was evinced also in a degree by St.
Peter. When he was enjoined, prior to his visit to Cornelius
the Roman centurion, to make no difference between the
Jew and Gentile, but to view them as brethren, the objects
of the same mercy, the Apostle was surprised at the decla-
ration of the Saviour, and expressed his disapprobation of
the measure by replying "Not so, Lord."
The temper under the influence of which Jonah labour-
ed, and the prayer he offered up to God, in consequence
of the mercy which was extended to the Ninevites, was a
temper and prayer very different from that which escaped
his lips when confined in liis watery prison; in the one
instance his own sin, and the distress he suffered in con-
sequence of that sin, made him feel the want of mercy,
influenced him to cry unto the Lord in humility of heart,
and to seek for pardon and forgiveness in strains of the most
humble, ardent supplication: "Out of the belly of hell, I
cried unto the Lord; by reason of my aflliction, I cried
unto the Lord, and he heard me." When extricated from
the difiiculty In which he had been involved, and placed
in a state of security and ease, he forgot the horrors of his
former situation, and instead of rejoicing at the merciful
deliverance of the Ninevites; instead of uniting in that ex-
ultation which swelled the bosoms of angels, his indignation
was excited, and he presumptuously arraigned the conduct
of his Maker: "Therefore, now, O Lord," said the rash
and impetuous prophet, " take, I beseech thee, my life
from me, for it is better for me to die than to live; for I
know that thou art a gracious God, and merciful, slow to
anger, and of great kindness, and repenteth thee of the
evil." The passion of Jonah overpowered his better prin-
SERMONS. 499
ciple, and every feeling of compassion was lost in the fear
he entertained of being considered a false prophet, in being
viewed as the herald of tidings he had not been commis-
sioned to proclaim.
How unfit, brethren, was Jonah at that period to Iiave
passed into eternity ! Had his praj^er been heard, his case
would have been without remedy ; the measure he would
have meted to the Ninevites would have been meted to
him; he would have perished forever.
The mercy of God is the attribute, brethren, to which
I am calling your attention : and that attribute is again
most forcibly illustrated in the condescending goodness of
the Almighty to Jonah: " Then, said the Lord, dost thou
well to be angry ?" Jehovah reasoned with the Prophet,
as the father of the Prodigal reasoned with his eldest son,
in consequence of the hardness of heart he evidenced to-
wards his returning brother ; his indignation was excited
at the merciful reception with which the prodigal had inet :
" Lo," said he, " these many years have 1 served thee,
neither transgressed I at any time thy commandment;
and yet thou never gavest me a kid, that I might make
merry with my friends ; but as soon as this, thy son, is
come, who hath devoured his living with harlots, thou hast
killed for him the fatted calf." This pctulent complaint,
instead of meeting with the severest animadversion, was
thus benevolently replied to: "Son, thou art ever with me,
and all that I have is thine ; it is meet that we should
make merry and be glad; for this, my son, was dead, and
is alive again ; he was lost, and is found." God appealed
to the conscience of Jonah : " Dost thou well to be angry ?"
" Is thine eye evil, because mine is good ?" Is it a crime to
extend my pardon to the penitent ? Dost thou well to be
angry ? Jonah, thou knowest that thou dost not well.
There is something very tender and affecting in the whole
history as it respects the disposition of Deity. If Jehovah
could thus condescend to reason with an angry n)an, we
should endeavour to imitate his conduct ; and when in con-
versation with those labouring under the ebullition and
500
phrensy of passion, we should use mild and connpassionale
language ; knowing that a soft answer will frequently turn
away wrath. If the door of repentance was not open for
sinners, what would become of all the human family. For it
must be acknowledged that we have all sinned and come
short of the glory of God. If a door of repentance had
not been open for Jonah, what would have been his fate ;
presuming as he did to question the rectitude of the divine
procedure; and to arraign the conduct of Deity at the bar
of his infatuated reason ?
To show the prophet his error in the clearest light, the
Almighty dealt with him in mercy. Like a tender mother
when dealing with a froward and perverse child, the com-
passion, and not the displeasure, of God was exercised. To
shelter Jonah from the rays of a burning sun, a gourd
was planted by the Almighty, whose luxuriant foliage pro-
tected the head of the rebellious prophet, and produced in
his mind a love for that plant which thus shielded and de-
fended him.
That his misconduct might be brought home to his un-
derstanding, and that he might view it through a proper
medium, a worm was prepared to fix itself at the root of
the gourd under which he reclined, in order that it might
wither and decay.
When left in this defenceless state, the sun beat with all
its vehemence upon the head of Jonah, and he fainted
under its oppressive influence. His unruly temper was
again manifested and he exclaimed in displeasure, " It is
better for me to die than to live. And God said, dost thou
well to be angry for the gourd ? And he said, I do well to
be angry, even unto death. Then said the Lord, Thou
hast had pity on the gourd, for which thou hast not laboured
neither made it grow ; which came up in a night, and
perished in a night: And should not I spare Nineveh, that
great city, wherein are more than sixscore thousand per-
sons that cannot discern between their right hand and their
left ?"
The same afTection which the Redeemer entertained for
SERMONS. 50 1
unoffending infant innocence, is here fully and decisively
expressed by the Almighty. The Saviour took them up in
his arms and blessed them ; the Saviour sat a little child in
the midst of his disciples ; he held that child up to their view
as a standard of holiness ; and told them that except they
became in temper, disposition, and abstraction from posi-
tive transgression such as it was, they could never enter
into heaven ; " for of such," said the infallible teacher,
" of such is the kingdom of God." *' Should not I spare
Nineveh, wherein are more than sixscore thousand persons
that cannot discern between their right hand and their
left?"
The reasoning of Jehovah in this last address convinced
the prophet of his error. His murmurings were all silenced.
He acquiesced in the rectitude of the divine proceedings,
and bowed with submission to the will, the forbearance,
and the mercy of God.
To conclude. Much improvement, brethren, may be
made of the subject we have considered. Let us attend to
it for a few moments.
It was a tempest which brought Jonah to his reflection
when he first fled from the Almighty ; and it very often
happens that it is by a tempest of afiliction, that men are
brought to a sense of their wanderings from the path ot
hohness. It is strange that intelligent creatures should
be so prone to rebel against heaven, in the hour of pros-
perity. It is strange that at the very moment in which we
are surrounded with blessings, receiving at the hand of a
merciful God the richest evidences of his favour, that we
should be regardless of the hand that bestows them, and
live without God in the world ! Yet how often doth it
happen that in the season of prosperity we are unmind-
ful of the mercies we enjoy, destitute of gratitude, the op-
posers of God's righteous laws !
It was the fear of shipwreck which led the mariners to a
throne of grace, and influenced them to supplicate the
Almighty for assistance. If the sea had been calm ; if they
502 SERMONS.
had been favoured with propitious gales, the God who
rendered the sea serene, and the winds favourable, would
have been forgotten, and their moments passed in profane-
ness and intemperance.
Often is it so with us, my brethren. It is the tempest of
affliction which brings us to our reflection. It is the hur-
ricane of distress which humbles us upon our knees, and in-
fluences us to pray to God in earnest.
The vengeance of the Almighty pursued Jonah for the
commission of one sin — the sin of attempting to flee from
the presence of the living God. If this was his case, how
solicitous should we be, who have often oflTended the Al-
mighty, to seek the pardon and forgiveness of our multi-
plied transgressions, without one moment's delay !
The Ninevites were told that in a period of forty days
their city should be destroyed, and the ruin of its inhabi
tants sealed. They repented immediately; they implored
the forgiveness of the Almighty ; they turned every one
from his evil way : and they found the mercy for which
they solicited. We, my brethren, have no assurance that
forty days will be allowed us, in which to repent and seek
the Lord. We have no security of living a week, a day,
nay, an hour. Are we not trifling with our eternal happi-
ness to live in sin, when in a moment we may be cut off" and
banished from the presence of God and from the glory of
his Christ 1
Jonah reclined under his gourd, and sought for happi-
ness under its sheltering shade ; the gourd withered in a
night, and left him exposed to the burning rays of the sun.
Are there not those among us who are reclining under the
shade of some gourd, and pleasing ourselves with a long
continuance of the happiness and delight it affords ? Is this
gourd, I would ask, the society of an affectionate compa-
nion? Is it the enjoyment we derive from our children?
Oh, remember, that the worm of death may destroy the
root of our happiness ; our companion, our children, may
feel its desolating effects and wither in our embrace. Lay
SERMONS. 503
up then, I beseech you, lay up your treasure in heaven. It
is there, and there alone, my beloved, that the gourd un-
der which the Christian will recline, shall never wither.
It is there that his enjoyment will be perpetual — eternal in
its duration.
• \
V .
,X . ^ 4 •« ^
^jL^ i- d ^^^^ f- ^ *^'^ / /
S'
