THE LIBRARY OF THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LOS ANGELES .^i K-tA 07 - ^ » (^^6-T^ f ^^ ,<:i^ ^ -e-^ V /^^:fc ^^^. ^ ^ '^iP^-y- :^ ^-^ ^ ^'<X-^.^^-7 (To . |<!L(^— t <- "^H^" '^^t^ A DISCOURSE Delivered by appointment of the Right Reverend Horatio Potter, D.D., Bishop of New York, AT THE CHURCH OF THE ANNUNCIATION, City of New York, on the 2^th day of yune, A. D., 1 873, IN MEMORY OF SAMUEL SEABURY, D. D., Presbyter of the Diocese of New York, Professor of Biblical Learning and Interpretation of Scrip- ture in the General Theological Seminary, BY THE Rev. SAMUEL ROOSEVELT JOHNSON, D.D. Emeritus Professor of Systematic Divinity in the General Theological Seminary, Rector of St. Thomas Church, Amenia Union, N. Y. S4-I j-^ PREFACE. The following Discourse was left in my hands by its lamented author in July last, with a note suggesting that if published it should be accompanied by an appendix containing copies of the various resolutions passed in relation to the subject of it. The author had before conversed with me in regard to the publication of the Discourse, and had expressed his willingness that this disposition should be made of it. So far as we could learn, there was a decided conviction on the part of those who had heard it, that it ought to be published. The doubt was as to the quarter from which such pub- lication should proceed. Under the circumstances it has seemed to the members of Dr. Seabury's family that they would pay only a proper respect both to the subject and to the author of the Dis- course, by causing to be printed a number of copies sufficient for distribution among those who might be interested to receive them. While this conclusion was being reached, and preliminary arrange- ments were he'mg made, and while I promised myself the pleasure of conference with the author upon several matters suggested by his Discourse, he was called to follow the friend whom in his last act of public interest he had so lovingly commemorated : an event calcu- lated to give additional value to pages which already must have been doubly interesting to those who knew and appreciated both of these venerable men, since the memoir, while a picture of its subject, is in some characteristic particulars a remarkable and happy re- flection of its author, who ail-innocently embalmed himself in the tomb which his loving kindness wrought out for his friend. The departure of Dr. Johnson necessarily threw the work of editing his Discourse upon some other, and the circumstance that it 550088 n PREFACE. is printed by Dr. Seabury's family has not unnaturally devolved the task upon me. In the discharge of this duty, I have, on consul- tation with the son of the author, the Rev. William Allen Johnson, and by his permission, made a few verbal alterations, which ob- viously appeared to be such as the author himself would have made had his attention been directed to the occasion for them. I have also made one or two notes of reference. Otherwise the manuscript is printed as I received it from the author. It is with unaffected pleasure that I avail myself of the present opportunity to express my grateful appreciation of the labours of the author in the work committed to him. These, as well as the loving spirit with which they were performed, challenge my grati- tude and admiration, and have increased the respectful affection which I have always entertained for him. While I say this, how- ever, I trust that I shall not appear to pass the bounds of propriety, if I add that there are some passages in the Discourse which appear to me to have been based upon a misunderstanding of the position of the subject of it. I feel the less hesitation in saying this here, because after the Discourse was delivered I said as much to the author, who in one particular modified his expressions in such a way as to avoid an inference, which, as he saw when it was pointed out to him, might have been drawn to a disparagement which he was far from intending. With respect to another subject, I had a conference with the author, which, unhappily, I had no opportunity of resuming. I felt that I could not concur with him in his intimation of changes on the part of Dr. Seabury in the latter part of his life, nor was I content to accept the method by which he sought to account for an assumed appearance of change. On the contrary, not to look further than the example cited, I find in Dr. Seabury's manuscripts of the last year or two of his life, and of more than twenty years ago, unmistakable evidence of identity of doctrine in regard to the Holy Eucharist. The Discourse, however, seems to leave the reader under the impression either that Dr. Seabury changed his ground, or else that the ground which he had previously held was not that which it seemed to be. As instrumental in perpetuating a memorial which appears to present such an alternative, I feel bound PREFACE. m to say that I do not assent to either branch of it, and that I am unwilling to have it inferred from my silence that I admit, or that I suppose my father would have admitted, either that there was in him such a change as the author seems to extenuate, or that he held lower or other views than were exactly contained in the true sense of the words which he was in the habit of using to express them. WM. J. SEABURY. Annunciation Rectory, Feast of St. Luke, 1873. MEMORIAL DISCOURSE. Nothing seems more easy in the distance and yet is harder when the work draws near, than a formal, official tribute to the memory of a great man, greatly beloved, eminent for his abilities and of high repu- tation, and of a long, various, complicated life. Sometimes, especially in old age and in perplexity, the power of touching a particular subject becomes capricious and will not work. Then there is a natu- ral uneasiness that justice may not be done to it, that it may be treated inadequately, unfortunately. Yet, after all, I have the comforting conviction that he who is the subject here is his own master. Strong and independent as he always was, his memory will protect itself now he is gone. His merit and repu- tation are self-sustained, and will not lose, and will hardly gain by the memorial of affection or the expressed opinion of a transient judgment. The memorial soon passes out of sight and out of mem- i^ ory, while tlie great mind survives, and its history. We may safely leave him alone in his own right, on his own domain. The years which pass, which dwell upon the great and good elements which made him up, which last beyond our day, and beyond local and personal questions, will secure his name and fame, and I predict for the long period with increasing interest and reputation. I, selected for this solemn yet inspiring occasion, by the voice and by the hands of my revered and beloved Bishop, own it duty and feel it privilege, and must not have a fear. Samuel Seabury was born at New London, Con- necticut, Tuesday, June 9, 1801. He was of a remarkably pure English stock, very little of any other race contributing its blood. The family came from Devonshire, Eng^land, and resided first in Mas- sachusetts, then in Connecticut. John Seabury, the Bishop's grandfather, came from Plymouth, Massachusetts, to Groton, Connecticut, and was a deacon amons; the Conojreo^ationalists. His wife was descended from John Alden, famed as the first man who landed from the Mayflower on Plymouth Rock. And all the names from the first record to the mother of Dr. Seabury himself, with one half exception of a Scottish name, " Stewart," interposed, show the clear Anglo-Saxon and Norman stock, the -+ grand old Puritan blood, wliich, when brought into the Church of Christ, with wider yet less devious and willful current, and with somewhat to redeem its unhandsomeness, to compensate its unreason- ableness, and harmonize and temper its energies, might be pronounced the best blood of the world. Such accession it received in passing through four generations of Episcopal clergymen, under fine cul- ture and in the purer atmosjjhere of the Church. The first of these was Samuel Seabury, of Groton. He was a student in Yale College in the memorable year when its president, Cutler, and its professors. Brown and Johnson, of Stratford, abandoned the Congregation alist body, and gave in their adherence to the Church. In consequence of the troubles he passed to Harvard University, graduating in 1724. Then he became a licensed preacher among his kin- dred at Groton. But his doubts about the ministry and the Church were on his mind, and they grew. He could not rest so. At last he went to England for Holy Orders, returning a Priest, and early in 1729 is reported as ^^latelj gone over^^ and " sent to New London." For fourteen years he was a mis- sionary of the Society for the Propagation of the Gospel in New London, and the first rector of St. James' Church. His salary was ^60 a year from June 24, 1730. Then, from 1743, ^^ resided twenty years in Hempstead, Long Island, and its vicinity, under similar arrangements, officiating at Oyster Bay and Huntington, and parts adjoining, during that time baptizing 1,071. In both stations he visited actively around, reports at times " great suc- cess," and the congregations crowded in good weather. In further proof of his efficiency, he writes that in 1/56, at the request of the people of Dutchess County, eighty miles from Hempstead, he made them a visit and stayed six days, and preached four times to large congregations, " in consideration of all which tlie Society hath directed him to take these poor people under his care, and do them what good services he can, consistent, at present, with his more peculiar cure." He occasionally officiated at Fish- kill. He was known as a solid, well-balanced man, faithful, active and acceptable as a minister of Christ. He died in 1763. These records show that he was of the true character, and worthy to head the list. As Dr. Chandler happily expresses it, " a character that is held in high esteem, and an exam- ple that is worthy of all imitation." His son, Samuel Seabury, was born in Groton, Connecticut, November 30, 1729. He was 13 years old when his father removed from New Lon- don to Hempstead, commsnded by Dr. Samuel Johnson, of Stratford, as " a solid, sensible, virtuous yoiitli, who in good time may do good service." He graduated at Yale in 1 748 with honor, and King's College made him an A. M. in 176,1, thirteen years later. In i75i, after having served as a Catechist and lay reader in Huntington, Long Island, he went to Scotland to complete his study of medicine. There his attention was soon fixed constant upon theology, and he was ordained in 1753 Deacon, by John. Bishop of Lincoln, and Priest by the Bishop of Carlisle, each acting for the Bishop of London. Returning, he laboured under the auspices of the Society for Propagating the Gospel three years in New Brunswick, New Jersey, nine years in Jamaica, Long Island, and parts adjacent; then, on March i, 1867, at St. Peter's, Westchester, and at Eastchester for ten years. A loyalist, attached to the regular government, to the royal side and the one united Empire, and, in consequence, suffering persecution at the beginning of the Revolutionary War at his home, he took refuge near the city of New York, where he continued to the close of the war. In 1775 he had been carried prisoner to New Haven, and was kept there under military guard for more than a month. By 1776 they had disturbed his papers, turned his Church into a hospital, and burned the pews to the value of ^300, and " being an obnoxious person to the rebels," after an 8 edict published making it death to support the King, he fled to Staten Island. The Society, '' sen- sible of his great worth," signified their ready com- pliance. On December i5, 1777, he was made D. D., of Oxford University. During these troubles of the war he attended to his duties as missionary at Staten Island, acted as chaplain to the King's American regiment, to which he was appointed by Sir Henry Clinton, February 14, 1778, and helped to support himself by occasional practice as a physician. At the very beginning he had written " several seasonable pieces under the as- sumed character of a farmer, popularly attributed to another.''* Though unhesitating and decided, he was never ofl:ensive, and cheerfully submitted at the end. When peace was made, the Connecticut Clergy, in concert with those of New York, re- solved to make an efl:brt to obtain the Episcopate ; and he was unanimously chosen the Bishop of Con- necticut on the 2ist of April, 1783. He reached England on the 7th of July, 1783. But there were obstructions and delays: some from the necessity of the case, as the oath of allegiance and obedience, others from prejudices and unwillingness to move. After a weary delay of more than a year, he turned to the Scottish Church, which was not thus * Boucher's Sermons on the American Revolution. 9 embarrassed, and with which he had heconie fami- liar and to which attached on his former visit ; and he was consecrated Bishop at Aberdeen, on Novem- ber 14, 1784; being formally recognized on his return to America, at a S2:)ecial Convention in Con- necticut, on the 3d of August, 1785. Philo Shelton, (oh, name fortunate for the " daily beauty of his life" and the nobility of his oifspring!) with three others, were ordained by him at this time, his first ordination. In all, he ordained 48 Deacons and 43 Priests, of whom the Rev. Daniel Burhans was the latest survivor, dying at the age of 9 1 . The Bishop elected Rector of St. James' Church, New London, which had been burned at Arnold's invasion, re- turned to the home of his childhood, officiating in the Court House ; celebrating, however, the Holy Eucharist in the large parlour of his parsonage on every Sunday. In 1790 he also took charge of the Diocese of Rhode Island. In 1789, on the 2d of October, the Constitution of the Ej^iscopal Church was adopted. Connecticut was brought in; and Bishop Seabury was the first President-Bishop of the Church of the United States.* What a cham- pion Bishop he was, how able, how earnest, how noble, of commanding presence and character, what an admirable theologian and discourser he was, how Journal Qenl. Conv.. 1789. Orig. ed., p. 25. (Bioren, I. 93.) lO greatly valued and beloved by all the rieli and tlie poor, what a happy churchly and spiritual influence lie exerted, what great strength he had and exercised in all ftiithful ways, how much we owe to him, is known of all men. His volumes and his other works speak for him. As Dr. Boucher, an intimate friend in England, writes in his volume of Sermons on the American Revolution, printed in 1797, "he was a man of such transcendent al)ilities as would have been an ornament and a blessing to any countiy." It is very evident that his fame has been ever on the rise. He died of apoplexy on the 2 5th of February, 1796, in New London, aged 66 years, 2 months and 2 5 days. Interred in the public burial ground, where the old gravestone still stands, the remains were re- moved in 1849 to the new church and placed beneath the chancel. I have seen there the costly monument, and read there the fine inscription from the pen of Dr. Samuel Farmar Jar vis. There also I have seen the house, and was pointed to the room where his grandson, Samuel Seabuey, was born. His youngest son, Charles Seabury, was born at Westchester, in the province of New York, on the 20th of May, 1770. After five years he was in New York or its vicinity, till his father removed to New London as Bishop in 1785. Having had pre- l)aratory studies under excellent teachers, he com- II pleted lii^; tlieological course under tlie immediate direction of tlie Bishop, and was ordained together with Dr. Burhans, June 5, 1793. ^^er engage- ments at Jamaica, in ijgS he was called at the death of his father to be Rector at New London. He was ordained Priest hy Bishop Provoost, July 17, 1796. Eighteen years he resided in New London, and then, in 18 14, became Rector of Caro- line Church, Setauket, Long Island, adding for seve- ral years Huntington, and for very many years Islip. He was instituted in 18 14, under Bishop Hobart, by the Rev. Seth Hart ; the Rev. Gilljert H. Sayres, of Jamaica, and Evan M. Johnson, of Newtown, assist- ing. He had five sons, of whom Samuel was the oldest. Li 1 82 1 he married the widow of Rev. Henry Moscrop, whose daughter was the wife of Bishop Benjamin T. Onderdonk. Here he con- tinued to labour with great steadfastness till he died, aged 74 years, 7 months, and 9 days, on the 29th of December, 1844. A l)eautiful tribute to his memory was paid by his own loving Bishop. His talents were good, his style easy, his power of conversation considera- ble, his pastoral gift excellent. He published one sermon in New London. But his strength lay not here. It lay in the unconscious possession of a great natural simplicity. He was as true as an 12 angel, and as innocent and transparent as a child, like a babe from the upper sphere, with clear and pleasant eye, let down to wander a while over hills and fields of earth; and in his own precious sphere I guess his degree was even higher than the rest in theirs. I count it a privilege that I once was with him at Huntington and Coldspring, rode with him at his side in his own conveyance, and worshipped with him in the little Queen Anne chapel, at an ordination Eucharist. He ^vas succeeded in Setauket and Islip hj our ad- mirable Drs. William Adams, of Nashotah, and D. V. M. Johnson, of St. Mary's, Brooklyn. But now we come to the fourth one in the line : his eminent son, for whose special memory we are now assembled. I felt as if I could not pass by his honoured ancestors with mere allusion or bare men- tion, and if I have gone too much into detail, pardon me that I have erred. I feel, too, as if it might be more congenial as a memorial to one who thought so little of himself personally, but so much of his kindred and forefathers. So I will yet venture to add as another link in the line, that his son, the Rev. William Jones Seabury, has succeeded his father as Rector of the Church of the Annunciation, himself useful in pastoral duties, honoured as an intelligent theologian, instructing in the General Theological Seminary, and beloved of all ; aud lastly, that a babe is born to him, and his name is Samuel Seabury. May the line go on, and with all its an- cient honors ! Samuel Seabury was the eldest of five sons of the Rev. Charles Seabury, and his mother, Anne Saltonstall, the daughter of the Bishop's church- warden, in whose house the Bishop died so suddenly. He removed at the age of thirteen to Setauket, Long- Island. During his residence in New London, in a sphere of culture and intelligence, surrounded by the elevating associations of his family position, the foundation of his education must have been well laid, his development auspiciously begun, and in many important respects, with permanent results, especially when we consider his natural turn for reading and study. But when removed to the quiet seclusion of Setauket, all this was reversed. His father's income was exceedingly small. Though, to use his own words, his father was " a man of simple habits and moderate desires, living as close to Nature and as far from Fancy as was at all com- patible with the decencies of his position," yet it was impossible for him to secure to his children many advantages of education. So Samuel was obliged to do his best, even for his support. He made some unsuccessful essay in our Great Master's H guild ; lie went out from home to earn his living ; having employment from his uncle, Edward Sea- bury, who held a position in the Custom House, and among some commercial friends. Desirous to prosecute his classical studies, his preparatory edu- cation, and finally, his theological profession ; and also to bring forward upon the same pathway a brother, to whose person and interest he was most devoted ; after having watched for all opportunities of study, and improved them for years ; having ap- plied himself resolutely to Latin and Greek at the age of seventeen, and always pursuing his studies with such spare time as he could find ; carrying a book always with him, to be used when he had a chance, he thought it best, when he reached the age of twenty-one, or more, to open a school at Brook- lyn, as combining more the means of support, and opportunity for study. It was at this time I first heard of him, while I was a senior at Columbia College, or a student of our Greneral Seminary. He had become well acquainted with that great thinker and divine, Dr. Henry U. Onderdonk, the Rector of St. Ann's, Brooklyn, who took a great admiration for him, and for whom he ever manifested a peculiar esteem, often referring to him and to the intercourse which he had with him, often quot. -+ i5 ing expressions and phrases of his as showing his views, his mind })eing to a considerable extent evidently influenced by his. I remember the Rev. Evan M. Johnson coming in one day and saying to us with great eagerness, " Henry Onder- donk tells me he has in his j^arish a wonderful young man, preparing for the ministry; why he says he knows everything; he is a son of our Charles Seabury, at Setauket." This, I may say, was the first step toward that remarkable attach- ment which these two formed for each other, a friendship "That ever did continue, lilie tiie spring, Ne'er saw the fall of the leaf." * And these first profuse expressions gathered by him from so eminent a judge of character and of ability as the future Bisho^^, gave me a conscious sympathy and honouring recognition which I have never been without. He was ordained Deacon by Bishop Hobart, on Wednesday, the 12th of April, 1826, in All Saints' Church, New York, the Bev. B. T. Onderdonk preaching the sermon. He was ordained Priest by Bishop Hobart, on Monday, the 7th of July, 1828, in St. George's Church, Hallet's Cove, now Astoria, a portion previously of St. James's Parish, Newtown. * Beaumont. • 4, i6 After an incidental engagement at Newtown, to aid his friend, the Rector, who had begun to found St. John's Church, Brooklyn, and needed help for his double services, he preached awhile in Jamaica and Setauket, then took charge of St. John's, Hunting- ton, with which all his Episcopal ancestors had been connected, and after a year accepted a call to Hal- let's Cove, where, under his ministry, St. George's Church was separately organized, being consecrated the 2ist of May, 1828. He was then invited by Bishop Brownell to take a parish at Middletown, but he preferred, after some time, to accept an offer from Dr. Muhlenberg, to be the classical teacher in his celebrated Institute at Flushing, where he con- tinued for some years, during several of which he resided in Flushing, and for others he visited the institution two days in the week. There I often met him familiarly during the fifteen months of my rectorship, attending with him the Heber Mission- ary Society, and the Literary Debating Society of the students, amongst whom he was a great favorite, and by whom he was much admired for his un- questioned ability and goodness. Among the young men sat, I remember, Reuben Riley, Milo Mahan, and J. Loyd Breck, with a hundred others ; and among the young teachers (who formed my first class in theological studies) were Bishop Kerfoot 17 and Drs. Diller, Van Bokkeleu, and Prof. Barton. He was then quite the victim of dyspepsia. He tormented himself with ascetic remedies and long, fatiguing exercises, walking fifteen miles a day. He grew no better. At last, in a fit of despair, he abandoned all remedies, he let nature take her course, he walked only as occasion required, he par- took freely of what was set before him, when lo, he discovered that he was well ! It was here he pub- lished communications for the " Flushing Institute Journal;" also, in 1831, "The Study of the Classics on Christian Principles," and " The Efficacy of a Mother's Prayers, illustrated in the Conversion and Labors of Augustine, Bishop of Hippo," in February, 1833, a work of 93 pages, since reprinted and very popular and useful. It was in 1833 he was visited by a most severe bereavement, by the death of his brother William. With him, as he himself writes to his son, "wer« connected some of my brightest anticipations, and my bitterest sorrows. I never knew so clear and vigorous a mind as his was, even in his youth. He came from home when about sixteen, and resided with me when I taught school in Brooklyn, studied with me for a while, l)ut he soon got far beyond me. I sent him to school in New York, where he fitted for Columbia College, in which he remained i8 for more than a year, l)iit liis severe application cost him his life. Had he lived, he would have been a very great man.'' The son goes on to say : " My father's heart was wonderfully wrapped up in him ; he seems to have had no ambition for himself, but he cherished bright hopes for his brother, whose premature and melancholy death was a dis- appointment from which he never entirely recov- ered. After the lapse of thirty years' time, when he spoke to me of him, he could not sj)eak without emotion." I well remember to have heard from my brother William, who was for more than forty years Rector of Grace Church, Jamaica, of the affecting passionate grief of his friend Seabury for his bro- ther's death. William Seabury died February 20, 1833, at Flushing, tenderly nursed in Dr. Muhlenberg's Institute, where he had been acting as classical instructor. . On September i, 1833, Dr. Seabury undertook the important and laborious post of Editor of Tlie Churchman; and continued to hold it for eighteen years, in connection with other pastoral and rectorial engagements, and teaching exer- cises ; carrying on his instructions at Flushing, and entering into temporary arrangements with the Church of the Nativity, and St. Luke's, and finally becoming Rector of the Church of 19 the Annunciation, all in tlie city of New York. It was as editor tliat lie laid tlie foundation of his great influence and fame. He seemed as one made for the place, with his multitudinous knowledge ever at command, his orthodox train- ing, his churchly principles, his clear, manly style, flowing on with deep majestic current, his high and strong expression, his j)Ower of quick mas- tery of a subject and of rapid composition, with great command of ingenuity and address in presenting any side of the subject favorably to view; all this, united with high, honourable, personal independence, his general pleasantness, with the power of sternness and severity, when he thought best to exercise them ; all these seemed to make him the man for the position and the time. He elevated our ideas. He made us familiar with our best ages of thinkers and of writers, the scho- lars of the centuries gone by. We took a pride in him as a champion as he went out with such proof of strength and mastery. There was confidence in his very step. He understood himself, and knew his ground. His was the march of a leader, and there was a grandeur in his tread. I was younger then and more excitable, but such were the abiding- impressions upon my mind. I have lately repe- 20 riised, and M'itli renewed surprise at their remark- able ability, many columns of the best productions of his pen. Suffice to say, lie established his repu- tation by his great ability, diligence and success as an editor, and thus for many years exercised an influence before unequalled in the Church. True it has been said, he knew how to be severe, to use hard words, to be needlessly aggressive, sometimes provoking, and to pursue his opponents with unrelenting pertinacity. He was doubtless in his youth a good fighter, and not averse to personal antagonism. I am not one to applaud or justify the faults of the great and good, to admire the roughness of a Warburton, the coarseness of the elegant Bishop Lowtli, or the majestic overbearing pronouncements of our Horsley. Nevertheless, the solemn, awful religious damnatory denunciations, untrue in their instances, and intemperate in their degrees, meeting the mere teasing and irritating controversies of a passionate time, with the charge of being an enemy of the Lord Jesus, of despising and detesting the glorious Grospel of the Blessed God, and that a blessed change is needed in views and tastes and sympathies if he would be saved ; all such charges against a brother-minister, ap- proved mainly as orthodox and sound, of recognized virtue, and who built all his hopes of salvation 21 upon tlie same common redemption ; such lioly as. sumptions are to my mind far more offensive tlian common editorial ugliness, and far more to l)e deplored. Just as if the Saviour were not as " pre- cious " to the one as to the other ; only the one would interpret the word as of infinite values, and not have used the fond word " precious " in its fondest way. So, in the controversies of the present day, they are false, disloyal and idolatrous on the one side, and infidels and blasphemers on the other. Well, I suppose it will always be so. In apology for the editor it is to be remembered that these were strong controversial years ; that the severity was exercised after enduring great and long abuse; that the controversies were bound up with exciting j^ersonal questions; that he stood out on the side of his Bishop and his Diocese. In very many cases he was certainly personally released from all considerations of delicacy. Sometimes, too, an article must have been written in immense haste, the printer's boy waiting at the door. In some special instance where he had been charged with an offensive word, he himself told me, that he used it as important to an important argument, that if it were clearly understood by the Church that one of his challengers had become so nervous and morbid by disease, and the other when excited was 22 SO constitutionally irritable as to be intractable, tlien they would lose weight in this controversy, in which their real virtues and the merit of their long pastoral lal;)ors and earnest lives constituted the chief practical difficulty to be overcome. It was with him a considered and measured phrase. If on occasion he was severe, he was in general courteous and even indulgent. Frequently he commended his moderation by what he withheld, and refrained when he had his opponent at his mercy. But I have another principle hj which I judge such questions, " For as the man is, so is his strength." A strong man must do things strongly. His very breathing is strong. Like that grand old moralist. Dr. Samuel Johnson, whom I thought he in several points resembled, when he spoke he spoke ; he never whispered. What ! tame down a magnificent Horsley and a Ravenscroft, and a Tyng and a Philander Chase, to the gentle breathing of a Bishop Benjamin Moore, or a dear saintly Bird Wilson! Who was it who said, "Very few and small erroi's, but very few and small doings." " Parum erraturus sed pauca facturus.^'' It were well worth the weighing of our charitable judg- ment to consider that the strong nature, acting according to the constitution God has given it, has its virtues and has its faults, with strengths propor- ^6 tionate. Wliat is somewhat remarkable, it is the slower, the tamer and gentler who go in for the strong; and it is the stronger brethren who them- selves constantly offend in similar ways, ^vho are less willing to excuse. Bnt who, stirred by the eloquent and superb expressiveness of the greater mind, would like to abate their robust outspoken words into the commonplaces of the average man ? An editor handles so many hundred discussions, that controversies smaller and greater incessantly arise. I cannot allude even to them. Only I select two in which our Seminary was particularly interested. One year there was an overflow of feeling in the whole Church on the subject of Foreign Missions, and the feeling ran high both among the students and the professors. Naturally enough, the Cjuestion so often agitated came up, as to the salvability of the heathen. Dr. Seaburt was himself the instructor on the Evidences at the time, though not a member of the Faculty. It was at a period when many of his ablest articles were written, articles very evangelical, jealous to declare the lost condition and the depravity of man, and to assert the necessity of believing in and of express- ing the gracious influences of the Holy Spirit. He considered the subtle distinctions of the New School and the neology of the German school as 24 undermining the foundations of botb. He particu- larly came out against the idea that the God of all perfection gave a mitigated law, and accepted a mitigated obedience, sparing not even his own favorite, Bishop Bull, in the discussion. This arti- cle on the heathen was a very long, full and able discussion, filling a whole side of his C%iirchman, setting it in every possible light, and sustaining his views by largest references. Then a sudden alarm arose, almost a panic. " If this be so, what need of missions ? " An adverse paper in Philadelphia, always ungenerous to him, and very lavish and unguarded in all its statements, published a private letter from a professor in the Seminary, expressive of discontent, and went on to represent the editor as a heretic, unfaithful to the very truths he valued most. It was asserted that Dr. Turner, the Dean, and the Faculty in a body, had judged his propositions and condemned them. By some unfortunate misunderstanding, the Fac- ulty had given no denial to the published assertion, and no explanation of it, though specially appealed to. So after waiting sufficiently long, it was con- sidered the fact that it had thus, as had been as- serted, officially interfered in pronouncing against him, " as teaching rank Pelagianism and pestiferous perversions of Gospel truth." It was for him and 25 his diwrchman a question of life and death. There- fore he writes as follows in the Churchman^ of. the date of June 9th, 1838. He charged the professors of the General Theological Seminary with having departed from the Faith of the Holy Catholic Church, these last words published against himself being printed in capitals, and he threw back on them the words, and pronounced that they had failed in the essentials of faith, as denying the fundamental doctrine of Universal Redemption, that Christ Jesus made a full, perfect, and sufficient sacrifice for the sins of the whole world. It turned out that the statements in the accusing paper were unauthorized, that the professors had only acted in their individual capacities, and that with much discrimination, and with no severe diiference of doctrine or opinion. The tardy explanation soon reconciled matters com- fortably, at least; he retained his connection witli the Seminary more than a year, when he retired on account of his increasing duties elsewhere, and as he could now do it without any refl-ection on himself, having held the office from Deceml^er, 1836, to June, 1838. But never did he stand up more fearlessly in his own justification. He, with his approved Trustee correspondence, denied that it was the province of the Faculty to pass doctrinal definitions, or to condemn for heresy, that only to the House 26 of Bishops, and tlie House of Clerical and Lay Representatives, with it assenting, did such power belong ; and that the Faculty had thus overstej^ped its office. As individuals, they could say what they pleased ; but not officially, as a Faculty, pro- nounce definitions of faith, and determinations of doctrine. The other exciting and painful controversy was that which grew out of the ordination of Arthur Carey. This young man was admirable for his de- vout and exact life, and his mental powers and ac- complishments, as gentle, too, and modest as he well could be. He stood upon the same theological ground as that occupied by the "Advance " School at present, so largely represented in England and Ame- rica, by such men, too, as the late Bishop Hamilton, and Drs. Pusey and Keble, and Liddon and Benson. Only there does not appear to have been any special ritual development. A serious effi^rt was made to prevent his ordination. The Bishop sum- moned a select council of Presbj^ters to examine into his case, and the decision was that he had the right to be ordained. Yet even after this examina- tion and verdict. Presbyters forbad it at the very hour of ordination. But the Bisho]) proceeded, considering the case as already adjudicated. The excitement of opposition was immense. It even 27 readied Archbisliop Wliately in Ireland, and parties in England. Pamplilets upon pamj)lilets were mul- tiplied. Dr. Seabuey, without admitting that he held on all points with his young friend, yet justi- fied his position in the Church, and maintained his right to views which the Anglican Church had al- ways comprehended. He stood out as the champion of liberty, sustained herein even by the verdict so honouralily and independently rendered of the Rev. Dr. Tyng. He protected, by the admissions of Archbishop Bramhall and other divines of the past centuries, the right to the moderated views as to the authority and interpretation of the thirty-nine articles. He seemed to sustain his high sacramen- tal views. He took a large part in the controversy in the columns of his Churchman, and in the pam^ phlets of the day, adopting him as his own assistant in the ministry, and when he died pouring out his memorial lament in the sermon known among his printed publications as "The Joy of the Saints." So also in the treatment of students in the Semi- nary ; it was evident that he had faith in the regu- lar training of the institution, and its healing and corrective influences; trusting fearlessly to the re- sults of instructive argument, the disentangling of sophistries and the corrections of misstatements, the cumulative force of wise authorities, the remo- 28 val of prejudices, tlie alterative processes, and re- sults the strongest in tlie world, and to the health- ful growth of the young mind itself, shedding natu- rally its superstitions and its crudities, and its frolic or dangerous eccentricities, leaving them at the end in the hands of their own spiritual father, and the authorities of the Diocese ; meanwhile, all treated fondly; parentally and indulgently, and all assisted to the utmost of existing ability : no impe- rious reproachful unwelcome, no suspicious glance or unloving turn or inquisitorial summons given to dreamland poet, or latitudinarian leveler, or Cole- ridgean mystifier. I need hardly add that in all the painful trials of his own Bishop, he was with him, the right arm of his defense, and his chief comforter till he died ; closing his career with the great sermon which he delivered at his funeral. Amid all the remarkable productions of his pen as the editor, still this abatement must ever be made to the value of such contributions. Admire them as we will, as full of life and interest, and pervaded by a magnetic spirit which sparkles at the touch, yet we feel that they cannot be relied upon, as if they were calm and permanent studies and decisions. They are not altogether safe. We dare not trust the great controversialist in the 29 dasli of tis editorial pen. Temptations constantly arise to overpass or understate, and to slur difficul- ties not yet mastered or comprehended. They par- take too much the passion of the time and the hurry of the occasion, and the partisanshij) of the advocate. The mind is not tranquil enough to decide judicially. They have their value, but as the years pass by, that value is abated. We admire the points, the energy, the scintillations of wit, the felicity of the exj)ression, the word which tells, the massive weight of the " Red Crosse Knight " in his onset, the masterly movement on the field. But for the permanent treasures, valuable to hand down to all ages, we desiderate something of another sphere. This we have richly and abundantly in his numerous, thoughtful, careful, ably prepared and well-studied discourses, such as few divines have written or could write ; which, cleared from local and personal controversy, delivered on the most important themes, presented before an intelligent and appreciating audience, fell from his pen and lips for long years, as the Rector of the Church of the Annunciation. It was here that his re- markable powers found their choicest exercise. Here is a treasure of divinity; and I hesitate not to affirm that his discourses selected, gathered and arranged into some systematic form, would consti- tute a body of divinity, the most full and tlie most valuable wliicli our American Church has ever produced ; a work, too, much needed, which would therefore find its place in the library shelves of scholars and of pastors, useful for all time to come. It would not share the fate of the volume of miscellaneous sermons perishing even in its beauty. I know sermons are commonplace. But when a mind of uncommon power ranges over great subjects or fortunate texts humanity will be the gainer. What would not the English world lose if Lancelot Andrews, if Jeremy Taylor, if Barrow, and Clarke, and Horsley, and Bull, and Seeker, and so many of the past and so many of the present century had not bequeathed to us their treasures ? I heard one say, after listening in this very church, " It is Bishop Bull in the pulpit ! " I said to him one day, just recovered from an illness, that a writer knew which his best and most important discourses were, and that his children might like to know it, and advised him to take five as the measure of excellence and mark all his sermons with a red mark accordingly. He seemed struck with the suggestion, but nothing ever came of it. In the delivery of his sermons he was without much ges- ture, except the simple natural expression of 31 emphasis and force : simple but earnest, and some- times intense ; always weighty and impressive. From these remarks I slide easily to the consid- eration of the theology of Dr. Seabury. I need hardly say that in all his general views he stood uj)on the same solid ground with Bishop Seabury, with Bishoj) Hobart— orthodox, evangelical and high. It has been said that he began his ministry as a low churchman. There is nothing to justify the assertion. His earliest impressions were from the hereditary teaching of the family. His rever- ence of Bishop Seabury was always very great and controlling. The influence, too, of his friend and pastor. Dr. Henry U. Onderdonk, was all the other way. If he remained connected with the services of St. Ann's, under the new pastor, the Rev. Dr. Mcllvaine; even if, after his ordination, he assisted there a while, it must be remembered that this was his regular parish church where he habitually attended. True, he had once been very resentful against Bishop Hobart, on account of his Pastoral Letter with regard to the Clerical Association. But he lived to justify the Bishop's wisdom, and to maintain that it was just here, in uncommanded instances, that dutiful obedience to the Bishop found its sphere. He had been very anxious to to write the j^amphlet of defence, but the Associa- 32 tion felt it to l)e more prudent to leave it to Dr. Turner, older and cooler. But this was simply a question of liberty and right, and not of doctrine or church views. His chief principle and his chief anxiety were Duty. He felt the force of it in his inmost conscience. He very much identified the Christian religion with spiritual duty. He was really fond of the age which we evangelical and high churchmen are so fond of disparaging — the Tillotson era. The Divines of that age did not renounce a single redemptive doctrine. They made Christ and His work the sole and sure foundation. But on the foundation of sole merit and free grace, they based a covenant of obedience. The strong foundation was thus too largely out of sight under ground, nor did they sufficiently describe it as a living foundation, like the root sustaining and pervading every part. Thus they were charged with trusting in a legal righteousness. Conscious that they held the truth as well as others, they were not moved by such aspersions. Duty was still the watchword. It became national. It was consecrated by the teaching of earnest men, by the hero on the field of battle. "The Whole Duty of Man," and Dr. Samuel Clark's ten volumes of sermons, masterly, clear and calm, became the household reading of religious 33 families. They held firmly to the Church, its orders, ordinances, sacraments, in the same way. This was a recognized part of Duty. But they did not grow eloquent over the nature, the beauty, and the great virtue of the Church of Christ. They did not magnify its covenant, or its office, neither its grace, nor its means of grace, nor press details, nor glorify occasions. Therefore, the higher class turned upon them almost as relentlessly as the other, saying that they did not do the true works, nor hold the true ideas which the Catholic Church of Christ had ever been zealous to maintain. So they were accused of having properly neither faith nor works. Now, with much that went beyond this, result- ing from some combination of all more evangelic and more churchly ideas pressing in from either side, yet I do think that Dr. Seabuey had a parti- ality for this old-fiishioned practical era. Duty to God, to man, to ourselves, was religion, and under one or other head he included the distinct Christian verities, sacraments, devotions, and the lawful imposition of services, usages, and directions. But he enriched all by the contributions of the great seventeenth century and the years near it, and by enlarged discoursings, wide illustrations, accu- mulated thoughts, and commentaries of profound 34 reasoning. Thus lie stood up a nobleman in theo- logy, of the era of Duty; but at home amidst the higher theologies of the past, and enriched with the ideas of primitive tradition, apostolic suc- cession, sacramental mystery, ministerial gifts, and also of the " great Grace," and the " great Salvation," all so largely presented by the century which suc- ceeded. He was too independent a thinker to fall strictly within the lines of measurement of class or school ; no such will comprehend him. He was too many-sided. In the Kedemptive department, while he held all, yet he laid it deep and brought it not out caressingly upon the surface. It was the root, not the tree rich and fragrant with blossoms ; and the fruit was rather the gathered and cellared fi'uit, stored for use ; than hanging in beauty and profu- sion on the boughs, or trodden by careless feet upon the ground. A perfect master of Bishop Bull, and Dr. Waterland, he yet leaned to the former rather than to the latter. The glorification of faith in Waterland's rich evangelic page, " It cannot be for nothing that St. Paul," * this was less familiar to his style, than faith as all religious excellence com- combined in its very principle and accepted for * Vide Waterland's Summary View of tbe Doctrine of Justification. Works vol. Ix., p. 451. Oxford, 1823. Christ's sake. Yet when lie discoursed largely and generally you felt that he did justice all around, and that whatever was comprehended in the reve- lation of God, and in the reason and the under- standing, was all put in — was all found there. As to the style of his compositions, let me say that it was a combination of strength, of easy flow of language, and of simplicity. His sentences were at once apprehended, and moved on with natural con- secutiveness and uncommon perspicuity. He never aimed at fine writing; never indulged in philoso- phical phrases, obscuring the meaning or covering platitudes ; in no pretty conceits or labyi'inthine sen- tences ; no mystical fetches. There was no attempt at brilliant irregularities, " des incongruites de bonne chere, et des harharismes de hon goutj''''* all was natural and manly. In fine, few have equalled him in grasp of intellectual ability, in power of system- atic arrangement, in clear logical argument and easy forceful style. He wrote much in many ways besides those men- tioned : in the way of counsel and correspondence, and of official document ; but he never laid himself out to be an author. The works he published were incidental, produced by the friendly request or the exciting question of the hour. * Mol'r. 36 His most acceptable and popular work is " The Continuity of the Churcli of England " wliicli consists of two discourses delivered in the regular exercise of his ministry, furnishing thus a specimen of his ordinary sermons. On this subject he had written and published largely as editor, reprinting whole volumes of non-juror divines, furnished by his friend, the Rector of St. John's, Brooklyn. He was therefore well prepared to add the important docu- ments, and the more special discussions in the appendix and notes, thus forming a closely printed octavo volume of 174 pages. The date is 1853. It is an able, practical work, largely consulted and highly valued. He did excellent service to the cause thereby. A later volume of considerable size is "the Cal- endar," of 225 pages octavo, published in 1872. He gives an account of " the changes through which it has passed, of the principles on which it has been conducted, of the ends which it is intended to subserve." He had nearly prepared this work for the press several years before, and he at last determined to finish and print it. A dry subject, say you, on which we do not care to be informed. But read it, and you will be surprised how fall of information and entertainment it is, upon a subject little studied. I lent it to a young minister, who sat reading it for hours in my study, and I was amused to hear him exclaim aloud every now and then, " Who would have thought it ?" " What a dunce I am !" as he realized that he had been igno- rant all his life of certain simj^le things which were here so pleasantly and easily made clear. I was surprised to see how racy the pages are, rich in quotation, in literary story, in copious illustration, and in information rare ; the sentences clear, lively and natural ; the instances telling ; dignity and familiarity chastely combined. Be assured, if the title has frightened any of you, and you have not yet read it, you have a literary treat yet in reserve. It is published by Mr. James Pott, his personal and valued friend. Another volume which he published in 1861, 319 pages duodecimo, was "American Slavery Justi- fied." It was written with the hope and purpose of setting forth eternal principles of truth, to which transient circumstances and j^assions had made men insensible ; and so of reconciling or moderating our national antipathies and contentions. It was written according to his idea and purpose, not on either side of the great controversy, nor, even, of social or political science, but in the interest of God's revealed truth, and of constitutional law. In those days of terrible excitement it was a bold and unpopular undertaking ; but lie was prepared to meet tlie alienation of friends, tlie loss of im- mediate moral and religious influence, and the re- proaclies of the press, both on this question and on the decided stand he took during the war and after it. My convictions being contrary to his, I wrote to him remonstrating, and reminded him of Bishop Horsley's splendid utterance in the House of Lords, which he himself had of old reprinted and com- mended when he was editor. He acknowledged that on slavery, simply as such, he had thought differently ; and that a man living long often found cause to correct his views. Assenting to many of his statements, and regarding the condition as an unfortunate one, I had long before cast my lot against it as such, and as within the reach of amelioration and removal. And I could not help but see that the ancient Christian liturgies had petitions, for those subject to it, and the recorded exploits of the saints were countless in redeeming them; and tliat the spirit of the gospel had its deej)est current on the other side. We lost not our personal attachment because here and elsewhere we differed, and we all respected him greatly for his independence and integrity. His other publications, " The Supremacy and Obligation of Conscience," two sermons of sixty- 39 one pages octavo, were pnblislied in i860, very able and discriminating, in wliicli lie expresses Ms admiration of Bishop Sanderson and his admir- able lectures ; whom he had ever been studious in reading, and fond of commending. He published also, within a few years, a particularly able and satisfactory small volume upon the Blessed Mother of Our Lord Ever Virgin: and a learned and elabor- ate eulogium and defence of the ancient Church historian Eusebius. Besides those I have men- tioned incidentally along the course of the narra- tive, he published several other pamphlets and discourses, a comparative view of the teaching of Churches on the subject of absolute decrees, the position of the Church on the Atonement, on Confession as held by the Anglican Churches, on the salvability of the heathen, also, a Vindication of the Essay ; a brief view of the origin and results of Episcopacy in this country, written at the death of Bishop White ; a sermon on the Kelations of the Clergy and Laity which attracted considerable attention : a sermon on the trial of his Bishop, with another entitled "The Calumnious Ear;" and an- other on the " Slanderous Tongue," and contribu- tions to the series of six pamphlets called "The Voice of Truth;" all of which grew out of the " Bishop Onderdonk " controversy, with several 40 large official documents of importance. A memoir of Bishop Seabury liad been expected from his pen : he had directed his studies that way, and had written somewhat, but he did not live to finish his work. Having thus brought forward his writings, his published discourses and style, I may as well in- troduce here — perhaj)S you may think for my own amusement, and partly I confess it ; but mainly as having indirect influence on certain more important results — the fact that he was not at all naturally sensitive to the charms of music or of ritual. With a fine structure of mind delicately appreciative of harmony and cadence, of measure and rhythm both in prose and poetry ; having written, as I was told and as I know, poetic lines not to be disdained, and remembering his eulogium of poetry so enthusiasti- cally admired amongst the Flushing youth, yet for literal music he had no turn; nor was he gratified if he came in contact with ritual demonstrations be- yond those to which he had always been accus- tomed. Like the great Bishop Kerr Hamilton, althougli he had not a cultivated ear, nor much " natural inclination to music," he recognized the facts of life, and so, the power of the musical pas- sion and its extending influence, and endeavoured to meet them by wise arrangements. He showed the 41 , same wisdom in regard to 2:>ropriety of ritual ; and was strict to follow the rule " Let all things be done decently and in order." But, hj natural in- stinct he was not led in that direction. Even at the outset, at his ordination as a deacon, Bishop Hobart sent him out from the vestry to change the black handkerchief for the white cravat. What the age now calls bare and T)ald and cold, was to his consciousness simple, chaste, and reverential. In a carriage with him and the Rev. Dr. Muhlen- berg, I heard him make some remarkable confession on the score of music. It was his constitution. God gave it to him. I would protect it in him and those like him and myself, as I ^vould protect the more expressive and demonstrative. Only this I would have to be understood, that on such ques- tions we must be ruled out of court, and our notions and censures are valueless. With some, mystic correspondence has a charm irresistible, as with our beloved Bishop Odenheimer and our lamented Mahan : with others, the music sense triumphs over all, or the touch is magical, or grand sentiment overrules, or dry logic reduces all to its subjection : with some the scientific or the mechanical is everything : or personal affection leaves no room for reason : and there are those with whom an authority confessed silences all opposing 42 will or taste, or thought. We will generally act accordmg to our instincts. And as age and circum- stances increase the natural insensitive or repelling instincts, the constitutional element may overbal- ance the other compensating considerations; there are even occasions when the old hereditary blood will reassert its own ; and when we are betrayed into conclusions not deemed in keeping with our past. And now, I approach a difficult sul)ject, and with no slight misgivings of heart lest my own interpretation Ije unfortunate, and be not welcomed as sustaining his true and stately position, and yet, while I intimate changes, and that in a direction varying from the strong current of his life, I hesi- tate, as if I do not justice to my theme. The change may be merely apparent ; it may be in the times, in the relations of things, in other schools of thought, in my own self, and my personal views. He always maintained that where he stood of old, he stood now in his consistency ; and we will take him at his word, and stamp his image from his life, and remember him in the might and glory of his manhood, so continuing to its close. It was expected hj the Advance School tliat he, the old champion of Arthur Carey, the leader of the van in other times, the old admirer of Bishop W. Forbes' ^'' modestce consider ationes^'^ would even lead tliem on ; and more than disappointment was expressed when it was found lie went rather in the oj^posite direction, especially in regard to the Holy Eucharist. He had often expressed admi- ration of the ability displayed by John Taylor of Norwich, and he had great confidence in his favour- ite, Waterland ; and they ' both wei-e accustomed to justify the use of the highest terms, and yet interpret them in far lower senses. This was extensively the habit of a lar^-e class in our communion. Sacrifice — yet every common devotion was sacrifice; the Ileal j^resence — yet in the explanation showing that a constructive presence was all that was intended; worship — yet common reverential feeling met their idea. But, in the later controversies, terms like these have been pressed far more closely, and ques- tions arose which were a test of one's exact posi- tion. How possible to realize the "Tremendous* sacrifice" of the Altar, when only the simple idea of ofi:ered wishes had held possession of the thought? how touch by faith? or how bow low before a con- struction or a sentiment? So, his own course was not an inconsistency, but a necessary result of what he had really held. To judge otherwise were a mispersuasion. Nor could he be justly charged * St. Cyr. St. Chr. Bp. Benj. Moore's Catech. 44 with dividing tlie natures as some said, since with him there were no natures really there, but only things and virtues, blessings and effects, grace and glory. If at last he was said to be in favour even of re- strictive measures — he who had ever stood out for a lil^eral comprehension, it was from some resent- ment at the intolerance of certain of the school, as itself dangerous to the liberty he would advocate. I could not but lament, that in his last years, when, to use his own affecting words " he began to breathe at nine, and stopped breathing at three ;" when his mind, with all its large, uninjured capacity, its ac- quisitions, and its power of calm contemplation should have been left free to expatiate in sacred meditation and discourse, unbiassed, he should have been pursued by circumstances of near and exciting controversy bound up with personalities, with con- tacts and conferences, and resultant importunities. The contiguity of irritating occasions cannot reverse the testimony of a life. So the grand Mississippi courses within its com- mon channel, pleasuring the banks and shores and the dwellers on the main. But, on emergency, it rushes down in heavier volume, discoloured with the spoils of forests and fields ; it overflows, far inland, all its banks; it overwhelms orchards and groves 45 and liabitations, widely tearing up tlie very soil at times, careering around, and returning backward on its way. Yet it is the same changeless river — the principles which control it are the same; from the same heaven springs the flowing river in its beauty, and the swelling flood in its majesty. One cause, one spirit, one philosophy, one science, are there. There has been no change, except to common mind, of planter, on the bank ; of settler, on the soil ; of newspaper reporter. Science, with its clear eye, its subtle faculty, its far-reaching thought, owns no change. Let this idea take absolute possession, and how many apparent alterations and driftings will it exj^lain and justify in highest results of logic, in largest movements of religion, in devotedness to truth and God. Happy the real Catholic who can say truthfully, with a debater of to-day " iVc>//, monsieur^ je ne suis pas un nouveau^ je suis unreve- nantr Oh, why might it not be on one sacred theme especially, that " its difliculties should be hallowed as mysteries of faith, instead of being- puzzles for intellectual speculation." * A heavenly ladder reaches from heaven to earth, from earth to heaven, and angels ascend and descend; and, behold, the Lord stands above it. And the blessed Saviour himself gave us the assurance that "the angels * Rev. R. M. Benson on Redemption. 46 of God are ascending and descending upon Him, tlie Son of Man." Hear upon tliis, the comment of the wise Lancelot Andrews :'^' "This is no strange thing in divinity. ' Ad Christum noii ittir iiisi peQ' CliH^stiim^ saith St. Augustine. Witli us, nothing is more certain than that the end of pur way which we come unto, is also the way itself whereby we come thither; one and the same unto wdiom and by whom the ascent is made." Then, on the lowest round of that mysterious ladder is the Real Presence, as in the middle, as at the top, where beams the radiance of " the glory of God, in the face of Jesus Christ." At the lowest round is memory ; yet who knows not its general and ten- der reverence — often its passionate expression, even as we tread the " dolorosa via ;" or, as in Oriental history, the sons of Hosein weep in agony over the remembered sorrows of theii- martyr. Why might not we take in the idea to allow and respect all, the lowest and the highest, even as we allo^v difterent degrees of knowledge and of Grace, seeing every one of the rounds is the presence of the Son of man ? With the two at Emmaus, our Lord Jesus was there as well Ijefore as after his recognition; nor did he disdain the true-hearted humble l)ut unrecognizing. And when we give the Pure Offering unto the * Pol. p. 555. 47 Father, and our affectionate devotions gather around, not all directed at the same angle, or to the same very point, can we doubt but that the holy Saviour, " according to the working whereby He is able even to subdue all thin2:s unto Himself"' will attract, and, by His Holy Spirit, collect and purify the true devotions, converting that which was with us but sincere affection, into worship ; re-gathering and representing it in Himself unto the Father. Trust we the Holy Spirit in His work. Our l)est is but crude material of earth : by fire of the Purifier re- fined and changed, it comes out the chrystal in its beauty. He will not miss. Nor have we power over the Lord's own ordinance to alter it according to our wilful or imperfect ideas. It is in itself what the Lord makes it; gives it, and designs it; no more — no less. Meanwhile, may not the best and wisest of us see " What need there is to be reserved in speech, And temper all onr thoughts with charity." * Dr. Seaburt, after the death of the venerable Dr. Turner, entered upon the duties of that department at the request of the Standing Committee, on the 7th of January, 1862; and at the annual meeting of the Trustees, on Wednesday, June 2 5, he was elected the i-egular " Professor of Biblical Learning * Wordsworth. 48 and the Interpretation of Scripture " in the General Theological Seminary, an office which he held to the day of his death. He for a while united his duties as Rector to his duties as Professor, receiving no salary from the Seminary, but having only the privilege of the house he occupied, until the institu- tion, which ceased to pay its Professors for six years, l)y some considerable sale and leasing of its lots, was able to resume payment. Upon resigning the Rectorshi]:) of the Church of the Annunciation, he devoted himself singly to his new duty. He be- came very much attached to it, and was considered very successful in conducting it. He applied him- self with close and exacter study to the Hebrew. He would on no account l)ut al^solute disability forego his duties. Even when the physician forbad him to leave his own dwelling, he gathered the students into his study, where, on unfolded seats, they sat around him. He could not go out to them, they came to him. This punctuality to his engage- ments was remarkably illustrated on his return from England. He wished to be present at the reopening of the Seminary. But his daughter was taken dangerously ill, and she could not travel. Anxi- ous as he was about her health, and desirous to be with his family on the return voyage, he yet left them behind and crossed the ocean to be on in time. 49 Shall we say that he sacrificed love and inclination to duty, or, rather, that he glorified both in duty ? In carrying on his particular work, he did not care much for minute criticism upon the uses of the single word or phrase. If he did, he was masterly in the dissection. But he did not appreciate the value of the process. He did not, therefore, deal so much in the way of '' scholia ^^ as in the way of large discourse. He went onward with the great current of the thought, not staying long to examine with telescopic or microscopic glass, the trees and plants along the bank; the shells or pebbles upon the bottom, or the shore; or analyze the chemical properties of the water. The current of doctrine to the outlet in the ocean of Truth — it was that which had its charms for him. He could not, therefore, avoid bringing in doctrinal discussions. In fact, my Professorship of Systematic Divinity was what he was made for; where he would have been most wonderfully successful. I felt it so much, I was almost ready to have proposed an exchange. Had I known myself as well qualified and as acute in that line as is our Professor of Church History, who "surpasses," I should have done it. Assured of his orthodoxy and great al>ility, I was always pleased to hear that he was discussing such questions, and was never jealous to keep exclusive possession of 5o my field, even where at times we differed somewhat, I being more evangelical (technically), attributing more to faith as an act or instrument, and he more to it as a principle and habit. With him it was the principle of devoutness and obedience ; with me, more the expression of interior confidingness and love, the soul pressing forward to Him and touch- ing Him, the only Saviour, who is our life ; I apportioning the privileges of the Church and its covenant, to degrees of time and meas- ures of forgiveness and grace, and treasures of glory. So far have I carried you along through his offi- cial, literary, editorial, controversial, and theological labours. But I have yet in reserve that which of all was most grateful to his heart; on which he expended the most of his laborious and faithful years, and of his lavish affection. Need I say here^ in this church of his beloved peoj^le, where, for nearly twenty years, I listened to his earnest voice, what that relation was. The Church of the An- nunciation was organized for him in 1838, on Mon- day, the 1 6th of April. He was elected the Rector on the 23d of April, 1838. His services were held, l)eginning on the Festival of the Annunciation, March 2 5, 1838, in the building at the southwest corner of Prince and Thompson streets, now the 5i Churcli of St. Ambrose, under its faithful and siic- cessfal rector, the Kev. Frederic Sill. Here he gathered around him a large body of intellectual men, recognized as leaders in society and in the Church for their own sagacity and ability. Here, for more than nine years, he officiated constantly, to the satisfaction of all ; during all this time ex- ercising also the office of editor of the CJiurchman. In August, 1847, the former structure not being of sufficient size or importance, this present Church of the Annunciation having been in process of erection during the past two years, was occupied, and here he continued, till at the date of about 1867, he thought best to confine himself to the single duties of his Professorship.* It was no old established congregation, come down, with its inherited families and accumulated wealth, and its city real estate, ever rising in value ; but he made it what it was ; they gathered around him. Although he had no great skill in the mechanical arrangement of a parish, although he was somewhat defective in commonplace conversation, yet, as a kind, atten- tive, intelligent visitor, he was very popular and acceptable in the family circles of the plainest and most cultured ; give him a subject, and his words * He resigned his Rectorship May 4, 1868, after holding it for somewhat more than thirty years. 52 were ricli in wisdom ; in consultation, quite remark- able; eminent for liis good judgment and kindness; often, too, quite pitliy and telling in l)rief remark. At Flushing we once asked him whether we should take an incommodious house or be at board ; he looked at us a moment and gave an answer we have never forgotten, " Put your feet under your own table." That was all he said, and this was characteristic of his way. He was a great pastoral and theological counsellor on important questions, and manaared each case in hand with consummate ability. His simple manner and life, his unaffected kindness, and easiness of access engaged the love and esteem of all. He commanded the entire re- spect and confidence of all, and escaped the ordi- nary censures which attend so many less simple and prudent than he was. His family was affec- tionate and well ordered ; he was moderate in expense, and so escaped pecuniary embarrassments ; and never was there a slur upon his moral char- acter, on his purity, his integrity, his honour, or his temperance. It was especially as a man, as a friend, true, steadfast, generous ; as one so natural in unaffected kindness, so considerate, so charitable to those who were in need, that he secured his general popular esteem. Opponents even, who had a personal interview and found him so sensible and 53 so obliging withal, left liim half won, and often wholly reconciled. To give a specimen of his parish, take his Re- port in the Convention of 1854. He mentions his Church as free from debt, except the mortgage assumed by Trinity; two of his vestry contributed each the large sum of $5, 000, and a third $2,000. The proceeds of the Ladies' Parish Society amounted to $1,221, and on one occasion the offerings at the altar were $906. The other offerings for the same year were $1,689. ^u addition was made to the Church for the Sunday School and the Societies. In fine, it was a strong, prosperous Church, till troubles of civil strife and warfare came on, and his own failing health interfered. And the per- sonal affection of his congregation was constant and extraordinary. Here how tenderly will he be remembered ; and though his body repose in Trinity Cemetery, among kindred, by the side of the lamented Walton, and not far from the Bishop for whom he so earnestly contended, yet here in this edifice will the Monu- mental Memorial, erected by loving parishioners, with the inscription " He fought the good fight ; he kept the faith," be a perpetual and eloquent reminder. Honours of various kinds solicited his acceptance. 54 But lie did not seek, and largely declined official life. From Columbia College, in 1823, lie received an A. M. causa honoris. In 1837 lie received from tlie same higli source the honor of D. D. He was a member of the Standing Committee of the Dio- cese from 1848 to 1853, when he declined a re- election. It was for his clear judgment and for his firmness and for his attachment to the Bishop that he was thus made a part of the Ecclesiastical authority during the critical period in the history the Diocese; and on important occasions, and in the preparation of important papers and docu- ments, he was the one especially relied upon. In 1 85 1, the reply to the letter of the Archbishop of Canterbury on the subject of the third Jubilee of the Society for the Propagation of the Gospel, was from his pen ; as also the singularly able document, entitled " The Prayer of the Diocese," both to be found in the Convention Journal of 1 85 1 . Another, on the subject of the renunciation of the ministry, to use the language of Dr. Haight, was " of great power in its analysis, in its logic, and in that marvellous simplicity, and beauty, and vigour of language for which he was so celebrated." This was not printed. He was for years a Trustee of the General Theological Seminary, a member of the Society for the Promotion of Beligion and Learning, 55 and of several other societies in the Church. In 1 852, he came within a few votes of being elected Bishop (Provisional) of the Diocese. It was a pleasant and honouring attention, too, when his congregation and friends insisted upon a visit to England, and provided the means. He enjoyed this privilege with great satisfaction. I remember that he was particularly gratified when invited to St. Augustine's Missionary College, where he found himself addressed with formal welcome, and in Latin by the students, the speaker at the close turning and pointing to a picture, with the words " Clarum et venerahile nomenr He also turned, and lo! there hung the likeness of his grandfather, the Bishop. He spent also a week with the Rev. Henry Caswall, Vicar of Figheldean, the Hector once, and the Missionary and the Professor of Theo- logy in Ohio, in Indiana, in Missouri, and Ken- tucky. The last time I met my old friend was at Dr. Seabury's house, and he, too, is gone, and sleeps in Nashotah, near the grave of Bishop Kemper. Dr. Seabury returned in improved health and resumed his duties in his parish and in the Semi- nary. I hardly dare intrude upon the sacred scene of the family, and the wonderful love that reigned there ; where one still lingers within the precincts of ^. 56 the Seminary home, who for nineteen years made his house happy, bright in hospitalities to the stu- dents and parishioners, cheering him in joy and health, and comforting him in sorrow and infirmity. Five children survive, the son and four daughters. For some few years before his death, the Doctor was fre(piently visited with growing infirmity and sick- ness. His faith, submission, and patience were ex- emplary. He continued to study, and even to work, where few others would have ventured upon exer- tion. During the Seminary vacation, he had sought country air at the residence of his attached and generous relative, Mrs. William Starr Miller, near' Khinebeck. The week before his death he seemed to enjoy the scene at his daughter's, at Piermont. But even under country air, and vacation rest, he had not rallied ; and when he reached the Seminary, he presently, after a few days of very great pros- tration, breathed his last. He died on the same day with the statesman Seward, and each was in his 7 2d year. It was in the General Theological Seminary, in the west building, in its east end, on Thursday^ October 10, A. D. 1872, that Samuel Seabuey died, at half-past one, early in the morn- ing. His age was 71 years, 4 months, i day. His death called forth honouring resolutions and notices of unusual number, character and beauty. After 57 funeral services in the Churcli of the Annunciation, lie was buried on October 14, in Trinity Ceme- tery. " He was a burning and a shining light, and ye were willing for a season to rejoice in his light." When shall we look upon his like again ? APPENDIX. Action of the Clergy. A number of the Clergy of New York City and the vicinity assembled in accordance with the call of the Bishop of New York, on Wednesday, October i6, at 4 P. M., to take action in reference to the decease of the late Rev. Samuel Seabury, D. D., Professor of Biblical Learning and Interpretation of Scripture in the General Theological Seminary. The Bishop of New York presided, and the Rev. Dr. Seymour was appointed Secretary. On motion of the Rev. Professor Eigenbrodt, a committee of five was nominated by tlie Chair to prepare a suitable minute, expressive of the sense of the meeting in the great loss sustained by the Church on Earth in the death of the late Rev. Dr. Seabury. The Chairman named as such committee, the Rev. Drs. Price, Beach, Tuttle, Geer and Eaton. After a brief inter- val the committee reported the following minute, whicli was on motion unanimously adopted and approved, and a 6o copy duly signed directed to be sent to the family of the late Dr. Seabury, and to be published in the Church papers : We, the clergy of New York, here assembled, admonished and stricken by the hand of God, and bowing in humble sub- mission to His will, desire to place on record these few words in memory of our brother Samuel Seabury, Doctor of Divinity, whose soul departed to its rest and joy in Paradise last Thursday. We feel, of course, that no brief minute, such as this must be, can express in any adequate degree the greatness of the bereavement which the Church is called to sustain, in the loss from her service here on earth, of this eminent presbyter, scholar and teacher. For many years his name has been illustrious among lier distinguished sons, and we must all acknowledge that it would be difficult, if not impossible, to supply his place with one so profoundly learned and so capable of making his knowledge useful. And, indeed, this must be recognized as principal among those excellences which made the pen of this great theolo- gian so powerful. To make his learning useful, to employ it in questions of practical moment, and render it manifestly subservient to the cause of truth, was always his aim and direct endeavour. In his writings we never find it mixed with curious speculations, or the vagaries of undisciplined mind. Dr. Seabury had a profound reverence for truth ; and the testimony of antiquity concerning the doctrine, discipline, and worship of the Church, was to him a supreme rule for decision in all ecclesiastical issues. He was pre-eminently a sound Churchman, and as such had stood forward in his day, and served in the cause against extremes on both sides, with a vigour of intellect, a dauntlessness of courage, and an inde- pendence of spirit which few have ever equalled. Wliat he believed, that he spoke. Whatever might be thought of his views, no man could ever accuse him of hypocrisy or dissirau- 6i lation. As a thinker, he was remarkable for depth and thoroughness ; as a writer, for simplicity and clearness ; as a preacher, for solidity and plainness. Those who have looked up to him as their teacher in the General Theological Semi- nary, though they have known him for the most part in declining years and broken health, may well feel that his place can hardly be supplied with a ripeness of scholarship, a breadth of mind, and an aptness to teach, equal to his. They will feel, too, as all who knew him will feel, that they have lost a most kind and sympathizing friend. For, although it was not in the nature of this eminent man to make loud professions, or great demonstrations, yet he was in truth most tender and affectionate. There was about his whole character a singular gentleness, modesty, and sim- plicity, as any one who knew him at all will testify. They who most intimately knew him will assure us of their belief that in his spirit there was no guile. He loved justice and fair dealing, and was apt to take the part of the accused, and if this sometimes brought him into sharp controversies, they who were best acquainted with the feelings and dispo- sitions of his heart, knew that enmity and bitterness never found lodgment there. If God shall grant to us grace, to be as free from malice, and as full of charity as he was, it will be well with us at the last. Nor in this alone has this de- voted servant of Christ set before us a good example. For several years before his death, he was a sufferer under the pains and trials of a wasting, and at times distressing dis- ease ; and never was sickness borne with a calmer fortitude, or a more uncomplaining submission. He knew that he had not long to live, and he endured the burden of his feebleness and decay with a meekness of resignation and pcacefulness of mind to the latest hour of his mortal being, which bore witness that no power could move his faith, or dim the brightness of his hope. He did more than endure — he worked even to the end of his day, and ceased only when the 62 night came in which no man can work. May that night, the shades of which will ere long gatlier around us all, find us as well prepared and as worthy to rest from our labours as was this, our dear departed brotlier, over whose grave, not only we in this city, and in this diocese, but all in the Church tliroughout this land, have reason to mourn. Signed, JOSEPH H. PRICE, ALFRED B. BEACH, ISAAC H. TUTTLE, !^ Committee. GEORGE JARVIS GEER, THEODORE A. EATON, Exceedingly appropriate and interesting remarks recalling reminiscences of the deceased were made by the Bishop, and the Rev. Drs. S. R. Johnson, Montgomery, Van Kleeck, Gallaudet, Tuttle, and Geer. On motion of the Rev. Dr. Van Kleeck, the Bishop was requested to take order for the preparation and delivery of a Memorial Sermon of the late Rev. Dr. Seabury. The Bishop appointed as the preacher the Rev. Dr. Samuel R. Johnson. Extract from the Minutes of the Proceedings of the Faculty of tlie General Tlieohnjical Seminary. Faculty Room, Oct. 12, 1872. An all-wise Providence having taken out of this world the soul of their deceased brother, tlie Rev. Samuel Sea- bury, Doctor in Divinity, and Professor of Biblical Learn- ing and tlie Literpretation of Scripture in this Institution, the* undersigned, his brethren in the ministry, and his col- 63 leagues in the Faculty, have met together to express their appreciation of his virtues, their sense of his loss, and the value of his services to the Church of God. The inheritor of a great name, Dr. Seabury fully main- tained its eminence in his own person. From early years he gave promise of the success of his late life. Possessed of a mind clear, profound, logical ; of deep and precise learning ; of untiring industry ; and of fidelity to every cause he espoused, and to every individual to whom he professed attachment, he filled successfully, with credit to himself and great benefit to the Church, the office of Editor of the most influential paper of the Church in its day, of Pastor of one of our largest city Churches, and of Professor of the Exe- gesis of Scripture in our General Theological Seminary. In all these he stood out prominently from the ordinary line of men. None who remember his articles in the New York Churchman, in the da}' of his power and their wide- spread influence, but will accord to him the honor of being the ablest controversialist of the Church in this country. The manliness and independence of his course, in an unpopu- lar cause, won for him also great respect. Not less did he distinguish himself in the pulpit, where originality, freshness, and vigour were the characteristics of his address. But perhaps his highest distinction was attained during his long service as a Professor in this Institution. Here his was ever a leading mind. His clear and acute intellect ; his ripe scholarship, especially in the department in which he taught, united with his general soundness in the theology of the Church, were largely instrumental in sending forth, year after year, a well-trained body of men into the Christian Ministry. By those thus trained by him his memory will long be venerated and his instructions remembered. Cer- tain books also, and tracts put forth by him, especially his work on the " Continuity of the Church of England," dis- played his peculiar talent, and will doubtless live after him. 64 As to the virtues and graces which adorned his life, much might be said. In many respects, a child-like simplicity- marked his character, whilst an uniform courtesy that seemed like the relic of a former generation, endeared him to all with whom he held intercourse. Of his piety it is needless to speak : simple and solid, but ever seeking the shade, it was best seen in those charitable words and deeds that so eminently characterized the man. It is in view of these qualities that the undersigned feel so deeply his loss, sympathize so sincerely with his family in their bereavement, and deplore for the Church of God an eminent servant whose work on earth is thus abruptly brought to a close. JOHN MURRAY FORBES, Dean. WILLIAM E. EIGENBRODT, Professor of Pastoral Theology. GEORGE F. SEYMOUR, Professor of Ecclesiastical History. SAMUEL BUEL, Professor of Systematic Divinity. RANDALL C. HALL, Professor of Hebrew. Extract from the Minutes of the Standing Committee of tJie General Theological Seminary. St. Paul's Chapel, Oct. 21, 1872. Forasmuch as it hath pleased Almighty God in His wise Providence to take out of this world the soul of our deceased brother, the Rev. Samuel Seabury, D. T)., Professor of Bib- lical Learning and the Interpretation of Scripture, while we bow with submission to God's holy will, we bear our hearty 65 testimony to the faithfulness and efficiency with which our departed brother consecrated his brilliant talents and theo- logical learning to the welfare of the Seminary, and to the elucidation of those Scriptures which are the sheet-anchor of our faith. His life and services were devoted to a development of the great truth, that the Church is the keeper and witness of Holy Writ. Volumes might be collected which would display his astute intellect and argumentative powers ; and the name of Professor Samuel Seabury will ever be associated with the bravo struggles of the Church on this continent, for her true ascendancy and position as the pillar and ground of the Truth, as well as with the noble cause of theological education in our Seminary. He loved that Institution with a holy passion, and, with all the embarrassment of his physi- cal prostration, devoted liis best energies to the fulfilment of the trust committed to his care. To remember him, and record liis worth, is a privilege ; to take to heart the lesson whicli his example illustrates, is a duty : while we look up in our sorrow, and confidently trust that tliis faitliful soldier and servant of the Church militant has passed to liis reward of rest and joy in Paradise. We tender to liis afflicted family our deep sympathy in their bereavement, and commend them to the care of the Father of mercies and God of all comfort, rejoicing Avith them that our lamented brother and Professor died in the communion of the Catholic Church, and the confidence of a certain faith. R. M. ABERCROMBIB, ] WILLIAM F. MORGAN, V Committee. ISAAC H. TUTTLE, ) 66 At a meeting of the Students of the General Theological Seminary, on Tuesday, October 15, the following resolutions were unanimously adopted : Whereas, It has pleased our Heavenly Father, in His wise Providence, to remove by death our late Professors, the Rev. Francis Vinton, D. D., D. C. L., LL. D., and the Rev. Samuel Seabury, D. D. ; Resolved, That while we bow in humble submission to the will of Him who doetli all things well, and heartily thank Him that we have been enabled so long to reap the benefit of their careful instructions and faithful ministrations, we desire to express our deep sorrow that we shall henceforth be deprived of them. Resolved, That we render thanks to God for the blessed examples of sincere and unaffected piety, and of deep reali- zation of the solemnity and responsibility of their high office as Priests in the Church of God which they presented. Resolved, That we tender to the families of the deceased the assurance of our sympathy with them in their bereave- ment. Resolved, That the Students of the General Theological Seminary take immediate action to procure a fitting memo- rial to the deceased. Resolved, That copies of the foregoing resolutions be sent to the families of the deceased, and that the same be pub- lished in the columns of the Church Journal and of the Churchman, FREDERICK B. CARTER, Senior Class, GEORGE W. 'DOUGLAS, Middle Class, FRANK H. SMITH, Junior Class, Committee. -. 4- 67 Action of the Vestry of tlie Church of tJie Annunciation. On motion of Floyd Smith, Esq., senior warden, seconded by George William Wright, Esq. senior vestryman, the following preamble and resolutions were adopted by the Vestry of the Church of the Annunciation in this city, on November 21, 1872, concerning the death of Dr. Seabury : Whereas, The Rev. Samuel Seabury, Doctor of Divinity, and Professor of Biblical Learning and Interpretation in the General Theological Seminary of the United States, died at his residence, in the close of that Seminary, in the city of New York, on the loth day of October, 1872 ; and, whereas, he was the founder, and some time Rector of this, the Church of the Annunciation ; and, whereas, while we in common with the Church in America acknowledge the foremost position conceded to, and filled by him, as a writer, teacher, and controversialist, yet adapting our action now to the pro- prieties of this occasion, we limit ourselves to an expression of our appreciation and affectionate recollection of that phase of his character which became known to us, in the special relations of pastor and flock ; and this we judge our- selves more at liberty to do, as the Church has already, in several of its larger representations, spoken its high estimate of him as Priest and Doctor. Therefore, we Resolve, That the ministry of Dr. Seabury, in this parish, beginning in i838,,and ending by his voluntary resignation in May, 1868, so that he might devote a single attention to the Professor's duties, was replete with influences of a most edifying and efficacious nature. As a preacher, " Though deep, yet clear ; though tranquil, yet not dull; Strong, without rage ; without o'erflowing, full ;" rightly counting it a point of educational honour to restrain and discourage all that is exaggerated, whether in language or feeling, he aimed at being simply and severely true, and showed the power of a master in the use of language. As 68 a Churchman and Priest, obedient to authority, faithful to his Bishop, uncompromising in his resistance to the notion that the dogmatic area of tlie creed can be enlarged by a process of accretive development, he ever insisted that the revel- ation made and delivered by our Lord and His apostles was final and sufficient, but that the Church itself should not be imprisoned within the narrow precincts of a national synagogue. As a controversialist, "he fought the good fight ; he kept the faith." As a Pastor, mental development was in hira the grace of a noble moral character ; his inter- course with parishioners was gentle, natural, kind, and con- siderate ; self-denying for principle's sake, lie gave an exam- ple of patience and dignified forbearance in a wider sphere ; and let it here be testified, that with an ability for satire and invective conspicuous among his other intellectual qualities, how very sparingly he allowed their action, those best knew, who, like us, were nearest to him. Eesolved, That we assent to the request made by friends of the late Dr. Seabury, asking permission of us to place a suital)le memorial in this Church, so tliat such mem- orial may be the grateful work of many, rather than the mere official act of this Vestry. Action of the Standhty Coiunuttee. This Certi/ics, Tliat on, the 8t]i day of November, A. D. 1872, the Standing Committee of the Diocese of New York unanimously adopted the following minute respecting the death of the Rev. Dr. Seabury, and ordered the same to be placed upon the records of their proceedings : THE REV. SAMUEL SEABURY, D. D. IN MEMORIAM. The Rev. Samuel Seabury, D. D., Professor of Biblical Learning and the Interpretation of Scripture in the General 69 Tlieological Seminary, entered into his rest on Thursday, October lo, 1872. He had been a member of the Standing Committee of the Diocese of New York, dm-ing one of the most critical periods in the history of the Church in this Diocese, from A. D. 1848 to A. D. 1853, when he declined a re-election. And this Committee feel constrained to record upon their minutes their profound sense of the loss wliich has fallen upon the Diocese of New York, the General Theological Seminary, and the Church at large, in the death of this great and venerable divine. It creates a vacancy which seems irreparable. It leaves a memory which will be ever dear and precious. The Rev. Dr. Seabury spent all his life, without reserve, in the service of the Church, and devoted to it all his powers. The priestly ancestry begun with the father of the first and ever-memorable Bishop of the American Church, and continued from parent to son, expanded into its full influence in that large, important, varied, and conspicuous sphere of active woVk, throughout which it was, during a long life, most worthily represented by this its faithful and true descendant. Gifted by nature with rare powers, witli perceptions large and clear, and an intellect powerful and acute ; and possess- ed of learning which, in other branches besides theology, was vast, accurate, solid, thorough, and well digested ; he was always ready to supply great principles and pertinent facts, whenever needed by any question or emergency, how- ever sudden or perplexing. His devotion to the Truth of Revelation, and to the Apostolic Ordinances of the Church, in their highest range, widest relations, and most stringent claims, was constant and supreme. And his advocacy and exposition of them, in language classic, terse, strong and pure, when combating subtle and grievous errors, and driv- ing away strange doctrine, was vigorous and unwearied. Eminent for this from the first period of his ministry, he especially put forth his force in this respect in the rich and ripe productions of his later years. He elevated his instructions to Candidates for Orders in the General Theo- logical Seminary, into the highest rank of Sacred Teaching ; and commanded from the many students to whom he conse- crated the best efforts of his mind and his great attainments, the deepest reverence. Through the press, his clear and fearless inculcation of the doctrine, discipline, and worship of tlie Church, and his masterly defences of their true and profoundest principles, often amidst violent opposition and obloquy, were eagerly sought for ; and their power was strongly felt, far and wide, among the events and by the generation on wliich it fell. In those days, the minds of the younger clergy of the Church were to a large extent formed and moulded by him. During the darkness wliich came upon the Diocese of New York when its Bishop was disabled by a sentence believed to be of doubtful validity, Dr. Seabury was summoned by its Conventiou to become a member of its Standing Connnit- tee, then compelled to act as Ecclesiastical Authority ; and, amidst the entanglements of the anomalous and unprece- dented condition of the Diocese, and the new and difficult questions which harassed it, he often came to its relief with liis powerful pen, and by his assertion for it of the true prin- ciples of Church Polity to be maintained in its perils and distress ; and so he placed it uilder obligations which should not be forgotten. As a Churchman of the age and land in which he has lived, no name has been more widely and honourably known than tiiatof Dr. Seabury ; no influence has been more thoroughly pervading and permanent than that which was wielded by liim over the minds of others ; no field in its history has been more completely occupied than that which was filled with his invaluable/ labours ; and no private individual has been adorned with nobler qualities, or shone more brightly with pure, disinterested, and exalted virtues. Afi'ectionately do 71 we cherish the remembrance of the cliildlike simplicity of character and life ; the tenderness of disposition and feeling : the modesty, humility and singleness of spirit ; the anxious consideration for the good of others rather than of himself, which shed the beauty of holiness over the nice discrimi- nation of the judgment, the wonderful keenness of the per- ceptions, and the prompt discernment of Truth and Right, in all their manifold relations, and at every crisis, which dis- tinguished his massive and richly cultured intellect. We sympathize with his family in a death which plunges us with them into a common sorrow. We mourn over his departure from us. We remember that, under all the weight of a long and painful illness, he persevered to the last in his important labours ; and wielded his great influence, and shone with his bright example amidst the venerable age, in which he fell asleep in Jesus. And for this we thank Him who " doeth all things well." (A true copy,) WILLIAM E. EIGENBRODT, Secretary of the Standing Committee of the Diocese of New York. New York, November 8, 1872. 3- gs' 5; 5:0 ts" r ft> n> ft> -1 o 2.U Cr to ttl ►^ to CH O £» © i-S w (D o s- fD ►^ o JO w ft) B* THE SUN, THURSDA^ WES AT 79 YEARS Father of Judg-e and Promi- nent in Episcopal Church Affairs. Wilham Jones Seabury, D. D., one of the most noted clergymen in the Epis- ^opal Church, died yesterday in East- hampton at the home of his son, Judge Samuel Seabury. He was 79 years old Ur. .Seabury was the fifth of an un- broken line of five g-enerations of Epis- w>pai clergymen, among whom was Bishop Samuel Seabury, the first Epis- copal bishop in America. He was born m New York. January 25, 1837. He was g-raduated from Columbia University in 1856 He studied law in the office of the late .Stephen P. Nash and was admitted to the New York bar in 1858 and en- gaged m practice. Later he entered the Creneral Theological :Seminarv, New 1-ork graduating in 1S66. He "received the degree of Doctor of Divinity from Hobart College in 187'{ and from the 'general Theological Seminary in 1885 He succeeded his father, the Rev. Dr Samuel Seabury, as rector of the Church of the Annunciation 'in 1868 and in the same year married Alice Van Wyck Beare. He continued in charge of the Church of the Annunciation until 1898, but in 1873 was appointed professor of ecclesiastical polity and law in the Gen- eral Theological Seminary, which he held until his death. For many years he was the senior professor in service at -the in- stitution. He was the author of several books on ecclesiastical subjects. He was for a long time secretarv to the Protestant Episcopal Society for the Promotion of Religion and Learning in the State of New York, the New York Protestant Episcopal School Corpora- tion, including Trinity and St. Agatha's schools and the Corporation for the Re- lief of Widows and Orphans of the Protestant Episcopal Church in the State of New York. He leaves two sons. Judge Seabury I and AA'illiam M. Seabury, an attorney, and two daughters, Mrs. Edmund W. Bill of New York and Mrs. William H. P. Oliver of Morristown, N. J. ^ UC SOUTHERN REGIONAL LIBRARY FACILITY AA 001 252 366 8 i '3f .1, ^ ♦ H ill ■^iSfiitiiiifu^h Wff^