Declining Years
DECLINING TEAES — UNABATED STEENGTH OF MIND — COEEESPONDENOE EE-SPECTING DEATH STUDIES EXTEAOEDINAEY LABOUES IN WEITING
DOOTOE JOHN BEECKINEIDGE SLAVES AND SLAVEEY — VISIT TO VTEGINIA
LOSS OF FELENDS PUBLICATIONS ACTIVITY AND HAPPINESS OF HIS
OLD AGE.
FROM part of his public duty he was now to be relieved, in consequence of the resolution of the General Assembly of 1840; that Dr. Hodge should be made Professor of Exegetical and Didactic Theology, and that his own title should hereafter be Professor of Pastoral and Polemic Theology. The closing period of his life occupies somewhat more than ten years, and begins about his sixty-ninth year. When we speak of him however as declining, the word must be received as applicable rather to body than to mind. No one could perceive any abatement of his intellectual vigour, and in regard to professional and literary labour he never was more abundant. His was in the highest sense a happy old age; and the remembrance of it fills his surviving friends with satisfaction and thankfulness.
He had lived to see the institution to which his life had been devoted, not merely established, but at its very highest prosperity; and during these years the number of students attained its maximum. In every part of the country, and in the missions of other lands, were men of piety and distinction, who looked back with affectionate veneration to his paternal care. With many of them he exchanged letters. Of these we insert a specimen, without exact regard for the order of dates.
DR. ALEXANDER TO THE REV. WILLIAM HORNBLOWER.
“Princeton, Jan. 11, 1844.
“My Dear Sir : —
“Yours of the 9th inst. came to my hands this morning. I am truly gratified that your visit to Paterson has so soon terminated in a call, and that you have seen your way clear to accept it, without hesitation. I am well persuaded that the whole thing has been directed by the Providence of God.
“I assure you it would afford me unfeigned pleasure to be present at your ordination, and to perform the service requested; but my compliance, under existing circumstances, is utterly out of the question. For some years I have been obliged to decline preaching in the evening, on occasions of more than common interest, on account of the weakness of my nervous system towards the close of the day. When I go into a high pulpit in the evening and the lamps glare on my eyes, it is very difficult for me to stand still, and all composure of mind is banished for the time. If I were physically able to perform the service, however, I could not, with propriety, be absent from the Seminary; for Dr. Miller, though free from fever, continues so unwell as to be unable to sit up.
“But though I cannot be with you, you shall have my prayers; and I will give you the text from which I think [I] should preach if I were there. ‘The poor have the Gospel preached to them! If you will take this text for your guide, in your pastoral duties, I think I may promise you success. Christ gave it as one of the certain proofs of his Messiahship, and there is no better evidence that any minister is servant of this Messiah, than that he makes the poor the special object of his ministry.
“I was not aware that my little tract had been useful in leading you to the Saviour. It encourages me in a purpose, which I have half formed, to spend the remainder of my leisure in writing tracts. As you will naturally feel some interest in the tract referred to, I would inform you that Mr. W. A. Hallock wrote to me, a few days ago, that it was translated into Armenian.
Hi % i’,i? Hi %r
“Affectionately yours,
“A. A.”
DR. ALEXANDER TO A YOUNG RELATIVE.
“Princeton, If arch 3c?, 1844.
“My Dear * * *: —
“I received your interesting letter, of the 20th ult., when confined to a sick room, and have not had it in my power to return an answer until now. I have considered your case, as represented in your letter, with serious attention, and find nothing in it which is very peculiar or very discouraging. The continuance and increase of your religious impressions, for so many years, furnishes the best evidence that your religion is not the effect of artificial excitement. And the nature and intensity of your desires satisfy me that a genuine work of grace has been wrought in your soul. The principal defect of your experience is one which, in our day, is very common, the want of confidence and joy in the Lord. This arises probably from two causes; the first is, too low views of the perfect freeness and fulness of the grace of Christ, manifested in the Gospel. You must learn to derive consolation from direct acts of faith in the Redeemer, rather than from exploring your own heart for marks of conversion. It is in vain we strain our eyes to distinguish objects in an obscure light. Diffidence of ourselves is right, but diffidence of Christ is a great sin. Come boldly to the throne of grace that you may obtain mercy, and find grace to help in time of need. Lay hold of the promise with a strong grasp, and let your purpose be, c Though He slay me, yet will I trust in Him, Be not afraid to believe that you have eternal life in Christ. There is in most Christians now, a leaven of legality, which leads them to look for some ground of hope and comfort in themselves: and not finding there what they think others possess, they sink into despondency: whereas, they should look entirely to Christ for hope and consolation, and should confidently trust in him to save them from all the evils under which they labour, or which they fear. Endeavour, therefore, to obtain clear and just views, not only of the sufficiency of Christ and his atonement, but of the perfect freeness of the grace of the Gospel; that He is willing to receive us without qualifications of any kind, and that we are welcome to come to him at once, and at all times; and when we learn thus to roll all our burdens on the Lord, and to trust in his all conquering grace, we may enjoy peace and comfort, notwithstanding the wretched deceitfulness and wickedness of our own hearts.
“The other cause of your despondency, is the one which you mention; a morbid, melancholy temperament. I can sympathize with any one who labours under this malady, having had to struggle with it a great part of my life. When the disease rises to a certain pitch, it becomes a species of mania, and all reasons and motives addressed to the mind under such a dark cloud, are perfectly inefficacious. I have found that it was a considerable point gained, when the patient comes to be convinced that this is the true cause of his mental darkness and depression of spirits. In my book on c Religious Experience, you will find a narrative of several cases of long distress of mind arising from this cause. My melancholy feelings have always alternated with an opposite state of buoyancy of spirits; and sometimes this alternation is, for a fortnight, as regular as a tertian ague. As you are a physician, I have no occasion to suggest any physical remedies for a morbid state of the nerves, which is often the cause of more exquisite anguish, than that produced by any external affliction. My nervous system is put out of order by indigestion, by the east wind, by the want of good sleep, and sometimes, in a moment, by hearing bad news.
We have had a precious shower of grace here, without anynew measures, or any undue excitement.
“lam truly yours,
“A. A>
The following letter to a beloved pupil, who has since been removed, almost a martyr, from the missionary field, will serve as a specimen of his mode of correspondence with young friends. We omit, as uninteresting to the general reader, the names of more than thirty young ministers, with their places of settlement.
DR. ALEXANDER TO THE REV. WALTER LOWRIE.
“Princeton, Oct. 25, 1843.
“Rev. and Dear Sir: —
“As I now sit down to answer yours of January 31, it shows that correspondence with China must be slow. I might however have written three months earlier, but your letter arrived near the close of the session; and immediately after the commencement of the vacation I made a long journey to my native country, to visit my numerous relations, as I suppose for the last time. I sincerely regretted that I did not know of Dr. McCartee’s sailing for China until he was gone.
“The only remark which I shall make in regard to your discouraging view of the missions of the Presbyterian Church is, that the frown of Providence is no more apparent than in the case of the apostles. It is God’s usual method to try the faith and patience of his servants before he grants them success. I make it a rule, in writing to foreign missionaries,
to oinit all lecturing, of which they had more here than did good, and to tell them of little incidents relative to the Seminary and our own affairs.
“We have been expecting yearly a diminution of our number of students; but strangely, it does not diminish. The house is full, and some are boarding out. The health of the professors has been good, and the improvement in Dr. Hodge’s is great. Mr. Lenox has built for us one of the handsomest libraries in the world, in the pure Grothic style. The books too when arranged look very well. The cost of this edifice may be about thirty thousand dollars, and it has been made over to the Trustees, together with the Breckinridge house, in which my son resides, a present from the Misses Lenox. Your successor [as librarian] now in office, is G. Mainwaring. He has as much activity and enterprise as his predecessor, but not as much patience. He offered to make a new catalogue, thinking that he could greatly improve on the old; but he has found it to be a difficult and laborious job. The old library is cut up into three rooms for students; and what was called the Nisbet library is neatly furnished, and inhabited by a Kentucky student.
“Your father spent the last Sabbath with us, and at our earnest request addressed the students. He told me that he had great satisfaction in conversing with the four young men destined to join the China mission. Their names are Lloyd, Loomis, Culbertson and Brown; solid and good men — capacity above mediocrity — prudent, diligent and enterprising — accustomed to hard work — and, as far as I know, pleasant in their temper, either by nature or by grace. Your father is encouraged in regard to funds for the coming year, although the money comes in rather slowly. But you have doubtless heard of the $10,000 which came into the office from a hand unknown — yet well known. We have had two D. D/s conferred on Princeton clergymen, Mr. Hare and J. W. Alexander; so that I must now consent to be called the old Doctor. Brief notices of your fellow-students will revive former associations, though some may make a melancholy impression.
“Puseyism and the Free Church of Scotland are the engrossing subjects at present; also questions respectiog Elders. A delegation from the Free Church of Scotland is expected here soon. The New Jersey Synod had an appeal from two Perfectionists of New Brunswick Presbytery, which occupied nearly all their time. Dr. Smyth, of Charleston, is our most prolific author. Last year he brought out an octavo volume on the Episcopal controversy, and this year an octavo and a duodecimo. Our State, having been long Whig, has wheeled round to the Democratic side. There will of course be a great out-turning. Who will be our next governor is to be decided the day after to-morrow. We shall have six candidates on the list. — When you write after receiving this, fill your paper with statistical information respecting China. I tell my pupils in foreign countries to send me no prosing sermons. We have enough of this ware here. We want information, minute and accurate, which may be turned to some good account. I do not expect to live to write many letters, but while I can hold a pen I will make some answer to such as I receive. It would be well for you to have it in view to write a book concerning the Celestial Empire.
We greatly want information respecting that wonderful country.
“I forgot to mention that Millennarianism is an absorbing question with our clergy. Many of them have embraced this doctrine, or think they have, though I believe some who profess to believe it know little about it. — If it did not damp the spirit of missions, it would do little harm. Millerism has been very rampant, and made for a while a great noise. This differs only in fixing on the current year as the predicted time of Christ’s second coming. This is now well nigh dead, as the year is drawing to a close. — The Kepository and the Eepertory, no doubt, you get. Let us know, as soon as you can find out, what are the best works on China.
“I am respectfully and affectionately yours, &c.
“A. A.”
As the horizon of his view was thus extended, he seemed to glow with a larger benevolence, and at no time manifested more lively interest in every new proposal for the spread of the Kedeemer’s kingdom, than now when he felt that his days on earth were numbered. It was a common observation concerning him, that while his judgment was cool and his policy conservative, he never rejected any scheme because it was novel; and no man was more sanguine in hope than he, with regard to great enterprises from which even younger persons were disposed to recoil. Yet he was not slow to recognise the tokens of decaying nature, and to draw from them appropriate reflections. In 1840, he thus begins a letter. “This day, forty-nine years ago, I was licensed to preach. You may know from this that I am growing old, and of course approaching the end of my pilgrimage. My health, however, is as firm as it has been for years; only I am still distressed with weakness of nerves. Dr. Miller has had several attacks of low fever this year, but is now restored to his usual health. My family have been blessed with uninterrupted health for more than a year, so that we have not once had to call in a physician. For this we desire to be humbly thankful to Him I who forgiveth all our iniquities, and healeth all our diseases,” * And some months after this, to his elder sister: “For some time I entertained a thought of visiting my friends in Virginia this summer; but after reflecting seriously on my age, and on the expense of the journey, on the small benefit that would accrue, and the important duties which require my attention, I came to the conclusion that it was rather my duty to stay than to go. Whether I shall ever see you and my other friends again, is uncertain, but it is a matter of little consequence. If we can only so live and act as to have an entrance administered to us into the kingdom of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ, it will not be long before we shall meet where parting is no more. Our contemporaries are fast dropping off, and indeed very few of our early acquaintances are now left. The death of Dr. Baxter was a solemn admonition to me. We were in the same office, and nearly of the same age, and his constitution seemed much more robust than mine; but he is taken and I am left.” f
* Letter to the Rev. Henry R. Weed, D. D., October 1, 1840. f Letter to Mrs. Graham, May 31, 1841.
The same year deprived him of a younger friend, the Kev. John Breckinridge, D. D., once his pupil, and for a time his colleague; a man whom he respected for his talents, eloquence and chivalrous bearing, and loved for his affectionate converse and ardent piety. It was often remarked by the household, that no one had the faculty of drawing forth his powers in animated conversation, so fully as this warm and brilliant friend. And though Dr. Breckinridge was eminently remote from any thing like undignified levity, he knew so well how to present that side of any subject which was entertaining, that his presence used to make itself known by the peals of genial laughter which would burst from the study. He was equally skilled to touch the chords of Christian pathos. And we may be allowed to say, that the Church has seldom lost a man who more happily united devout tenderness and philanthropic zeal with manly honour and high courage in his Master’s cause.
Though the difference in age was so great, Dr. Alexander looked on his junior colleague with high respect; which is testified by the following sentences from his Introductory Lecture, next following the bereavement; it is likely that much more was uttered by him: “On this occasion also it seems to be highly proper to make solemn mention of the decease of one of the most active, energetic and eloquent ministers of the Presbyterian Church, who had been not only a student but for some time a Professor in this Seminary. You will all understand me to speak of the late Doctor John Breckinridge, whose death, in the midst of his years, and in the midst of the most enlarged and flattering prospects of usefulness, is an event which should not be overlooked by the Church, nor cursorily passed over by this Seminary, to which he was ever an ardent and efficient friend. Few men filled a larger space in the view of the Church and the public, and few men could be taken from the earth who will be more missed. He was indeed c sl burning and a shining light, but we were permitted to rejoice in his light only for a short season. Our only solace under this affliction is, that it was the stroke of our Heavenly Father, who is infinitely wise and good; and that our brother departed in the full assurance of faith and hope, and now rejoices in the presence of Him whom unseen he loved, and in whom he believed, which is far better than any pleasure to be enjoyed on earth. But let the memory of the devoted servants of the Lord, and of their work of faith and labour of love, be affectionately cherished by the Church.”
In the spring of 1842, Dr. Alexander made a flying visit to Richmond, where he delivered a discourse which was published. The subject was, “The People of God led in unknown ways “from Isa. xiii. 16. On his return he writes to his sister:” My going to Eichmond was a sudden thing, and I was obliged to come back immediately to fulfil appointments made in the State of New- York. I therefore could not with any ease or comfort extend my visit to Rockbridge. During this vacation I have been almost constantly in motion, and my health has generally been good; they tell me every where that I have grown much more corpulent than I formerly was. My principal weakness is in the stomach and nerves; and though diseases of this kind are not attended
with immediate danger, they make us very miserable at times, and at last become incurable and end in lingering death. I have been appointed by the Board of Missions to visit, in company with a younger man, the western counties of New- York; to ascertain the state of the churches there. But I am very doubtful whether a person of my age should undertake so long a journey, or whether any good is likely to arise from such a visit. — I am thankful that my life has been spared to see all my children educated. And now if I could see them all pious members of the church, I should be disposed to say, ‘Now, Lord, let thy servant depart in peace, f *
Notwithstanding the adverse prognostics of this letter, he was permitted to revisit Virginia in the summer of 1843. On this occasion he delivered a discourse before the Alumni Association of Washington College, on the Commencement Day, June 29th. From the crowd of persons and the extreme heat, he was during the address seized with a faintness, which was alarming, and which made it necessary for him to be carried into the open air. No expostulations, however, could induce him to desist. He was especially desirous to say something in honour of his old teacher, Mr. Graham. He therefore returned and completed the delivery of the Address. Its last words were these: “Having now finished what I wished to communicate at this time, I must, my beloved friends, take a solemn and last farewell of you all; expecting never again to see the faces of most of you in the flesh.. May Heaven’s richest blessings attend you I”
* Letter to Mrs. Graham, July 5, 1842.
From the columns of a religious journal, published some time after the event, we derive the following statement: “I shall never forget some circumstances connected with his last visit to Virginia. It was the summer of 1843. He came, as he told me when I met with him, reckoning upon it as his last visit to his native region. Dr. Alexander opened the Commencement exercises with a short prayer. A generation long gone by seemed to be represented in him, and while he sat looking down upon the scene, and partaking of the varying emotions that swayed the auditory, I could not but fancy what thoughts and feelings must have been passing through his mind, far out of the range of those that were present to the minds of others there. He had been one of the early students of Liberty Hall Academy, under its first rector, William Graham, a man of eminent talents and piety, who well deserves to be honoured as the father of learning in West Virginia, and who was the preceptor likewise of Baxter, Speece, J. H. Rice, and other men of note, both in church and state.
“In the afternoon the audience again filled the spacious building to hear Dr. Alexander, the most of them for the last time. The heat of the crowded house, and the effort of the occasion, coming after the fatigue and excitement of the morning, were too much for an aged man, like Dr. Alexander. He faltered in the midst of his discourse, grew pale, stopped and sank back into his seat, every heart in the vast assembly beating quick at such an interruption. In a few moments he rose, and renewed the effort; but it would not do, It was not long before he gave way, and had to be car-
ried out of the house in his chair. I had listened in painful anxiety from the time that he had commenced again, and the feelings of the audience were now all absorbed in concern for him. Who could tell but that the cords of an aged and feeble life, too tensely stretched, might suddenly snap, and the scene wind up with a melancholy and thrilling event.
“Friends gathered around him, and begged that he would leave off, suggesting that, with his consent, the address would be printed. He declared his intention of going on. It was then suggested that the rest should be read by some person for him. But no, he persisted strangely, and as it almost seemed, obstinately. What was the secret of his pertinacity? He had an office to perform, he had a tribute to pay on that last occasion. And there, under the shadow of the old church, surrounded by the descendants of his own paternal family, and of his contemporaries, amidst the tombs of his own generation, and within a few yards of the graves of his own parents, he sat and read his tribute to Mr. Graham — the audience clustering around him, and hanging with fixed and tearful attention on his closing words. He sketched the character of Graham, spoke of his services to the cause of learning and religion, and concluded with a few impressive remarks, in which he spoke of himself as the sole survivor of the whole number of officers and students, connected with Liberty Hall at the time of his entrance, and for two or three years afterwards, and exhorted those about him, as one who never expected to see them again, to seek salvation through the infinite merits of a Kedeemer.
u The address has been printed. But it needs that one should have been present to feel the full impression of it, as delivered.
“That face and form, that group, the old church, the churchyard with its monuments, all seen amid the lengthening shadows of declining day, formed a scene for a painter’s pencil. It was a most striking and appropriate picture for the last page of such a man’s pilgrimage to the place of his birth and of his fathers’ graves.
“KL.”
Concerning this visit, his eldest brother, Andrew Alexander, Esq., thus wrote: “We have been very much gratified with the visit of your father. There were frequently present the three brothers and two sisters. It is not common for so many aged brothers and sisters to meet; the youngest being sixty-seven years old. It is not at all probable that we shall ever again meet in this world.” It is instructive to add, that at this present writing, only one of that venerable circle survives.
On returning from this memorable visit, Dr. Alexander thus addresses his sister:” After an absence of sixty-four days, I returned home; preserved from illness and all fatal accidents. But the day before I reached home I met with a slight disaster, which, if a kind Providence had not interposed, might have been very serious. For in going from Chambersburg to Carlisle, when in sight of Shippensburg, the car in which I was with many others, ran off the track into a ditch. The locomotive which did not leave the track broke
loose from the car by snapping the chain; otherwise we should have been dragged along, overturned, and perhaps killed. Whereas we all escaped with very slight injury. I believe that I was more hurt than any other person, having been driven against the seat before me, by which I got a stroke on the leg, just below the knee. I felt it so little, however, that I walked nearly half a mile to Shippensburg, and then did not think it worth while to examine the place. But at Carlisle I found the leg much swelled, and the skin torn off. I had an appointment to preach in the evening, and though I was unfit for public service I found it necessary to go into the pulpit and make the effort. Next day I came all the way home, and have been ever since almost entirely confined to the house; for by some means, I know not how, my ankle was sprained. But I am now nearly well of my bruises, and all the time have enjoyed excellent health. I found all well at home. — I have sent on my Alumni Discourse to Dr. Euffner. I might as well have left it, for I had no opportunity of transcribing it, or doing any thing to it, except adding a few particulars respecting the Rev. William Graham. They must make the best of it. I have now very little literary ambition, and am therefore reckless as to what becomes of the address. — Upon a retrospect of my late journey, I feel glad that I was persuaded to undertake it; though I now feel that home is the best place for old people. Whether I shall live to take such another journey, 1 certainly cannot tell; but the probability is that my next journey will be to that land from whose bourne no traveller returns. The only preparation for death which can
be effectual to give solace to the mind is a lively faith in Christ. If we confide implicitly in him we shall fear no evil. All before us is dark and unknown, but our Great Leader can conduct us safely over this Jordan. The valley looks gloomy, but the Shepherd’s voice can cheer us while we pass through. Let us dismiss a timid, unbelieving spirit, and be strong in the Lord and in the power of his might. We should not look into our own hearts for comfort, but directly unto Christ. The more we trust in him, the more we honour him Nothing in us or about us is more displeasing to him, than our fear or distrust of his power and grace. He seems to say, as to his disciples of old, e Why are ye so fearful?” Wherefore did ye doubt? ’ c Only believe; all things are possible to him that belie veth,”
It is in harmony with such remarks to add here, that during this and the following year, he was called to mourn over several dear friends. Mrs. Paulina Le Grand departed this life in 1843. No Christian woman in Virginia was more widely known. Having come out of a family circle of great wealth and extreme worldliness, during the great awakenings of which we have already had occasion to speak, she signalized a long life by a sincerity of Christian deportment which made her example noted. She was a lover of good men; she entertained strangers; she washed the saints’ feet. Her home was open to all disciples of every name; she not only sometimes entertained many families of her friends at once, but gave a welcome to the humblest wayfarer who needed shelter. For months and even years she gave a home to ministers of the Gospel. While her personal experience was
not joyful, she loved evangelical truth, and spared no pains to promote it. Having a masculine skill and generalship in the conduct of affairs, she extricated a large estate from embarrassment, and was able to contribute largely to good objects. Her courage was remarkable, and no instance was ever known in which she shrank from reproving sin, even in distinguished persons. For more than half a century she was the friend and correspondent of Dr. Alexander. Nearly about the same time died, his elder brother, Andrew Alexander, Esq., of Lexington; a man of probity, sagacity, and consistent life. After a brief interval, two beloved sisters were taken away, Mrs. Ann Turner, relict of the Kev. William Turner, and Mrs. Martha Rice, wife of the Rev. Benjamin H. Rice, D. D.
DR. ALEXANDER TO MRS. GRAHAM.
“Pkinceton, Jan. 20, 1844.
“Dear Sister: —
“The occasions of our writing have of late been of a sorrowful kind. Your last contained an account of the decease of our dear sister Turner, who died in a strange land, but surrounded by kind friends and supported by Christian hope and comfort. It has now become my painful duty to inform you and other friends of the death of Anne Forman, second daughter of our sister Martha Rice. You know that she was married to a young clergyman in Kentucky, who was settled in or near Versailles. She visited her parents last spring, and brought with her a little son, a year old, named Benjamin Rice. Though Anne had been delicate from childhood, her health appeared not only good, but robust, when she was here. But five or six weeks ago she was seized with some disease which affected her head and stomach, and on the 11th inst., gently departed this life, having given every evidence of being a sincere Christian. Her last words were, c I wish to be a better Christian! from which it would seem that she was not aware of the nearness of her end. Her parents, as you may suppose, are much distressed; but while they sorrow, it is not as those who have no hope; and they will no doubt derive spiritual benefit from this heavy affliction.”
TO THE SAME.
“Princeton, March 6, 1844.
“My Dear Sister: —
“Your last letter conveyed to us the mournful intelligence of the death of our oldest brother; and now it falls to my lot to inform you that our youngest sister, Martha Bice, has also been taken away from us. She gave up her spirit into the hands of her Kedeemer about two o’clock this morning. About three weeks ago she was seized with a violent chill, followed by a high fever. Three or four days ago her fever subsided, and we hoped that she might recover; but a dreadful oppression of the lungs came on, owing to what cause is not known. This difficulty of breathing continued to increase until she expired. With the fever, which the physicians call congestive, she had also an inflammation of the tonsils, which rendered it difficult for her to speak. Being confined to the house by a severe attack of sore throat 562 DEATH OF MRS. RICE.
with fever, I was unable to see her before yesterday morning. I found her mind in a calm and comfortable state, in the midst of bodily pain and oppression. During her whole illness her understanding was undisturbed, and her faith was strong. The only doubt which she expressed to me was a fear lest her perfect peace of mind, devoid of every doubt and fear, might be the effect of her disease. But the fever had then left her, and the same peace and confidence continued to the last; for even when speechless, she understood every thing; and when her husband asked her whether she could now say that Grod had given her victory over death, and requested her to signify it by raising her hand, she immediately did this, and soon after expired. Her loss will be greatly felt in the family. She will be greatly missed in the congregation, especially among the poor and afflicted. She was active in works of faith and labours of love. I could not bring myself to believe that this sickness would be unto death. I prayed often and earnestly that she might be restored to health and to her husband and children. But the will of Grod was otherwise. — I have seen Dr. Kice this morning. He bears his bereavement like a Christian; his feelings are very tender, but he bows with entire submission to this afflictive dispensation. — Thus our family, the members of which have been so long preserved in life, are now taken away in rapid succession. Out of eight, three have departed within less than six months; and it cannot be long before the remaining five shall be summoned. 0 may we all be ready! And may we be enabled to meet death with as little fear as those who have already died! Farewell. God
bless you all!
“Your affectionate brother,
“A. A.”
TO THE SAME.
“Princeton, May 13, 1845.
“We have been preserved to a good old age, and as God has been so favourable to us thus far, we ought not to distrust him for the remaining part of our journey. We need not be troubled about the dissolution of these trail bodies. ‘Dust thou art, and unto dust shalt thou return, It is a way which all must travel once; grace and strength for the day we must trust Him to grant, who hath said, e I will never leave thee, nor forsake thee, If Christ be near to us in that hour when heart and flesh fail, we need fear no evil. He hath himself suffered all the bitter pains of death, and is therefore able to sympathize with those who walk through the gloomy valley. His people, who trust in him, are seldom left to darkness and discouragement in that last conflict. — As we shall in all probability never meet again in this world, may we have a joyful meeting in the world to come! And while continued here beyond the time usually allotted to mortals, let us pray for each other daily, that we may be counted worthy, through the grace of the Lord Jesus, to inherit the kingdom prepared for the people of God, from the foundation of the world!”
TO THE SAME.
“June 21, 1847.
“As to my own health, it is very good in the general; though I have had several sudden and severe attacks of disease, which seems to have its seat in the stomach. The crazy tabernacle must come down, and it matters little by what means this end is attained. The only wonder is that it should last so long. I have been trying of late to realize my nearness to the eternal world; but though my judgment is fully convinced that I shall soon cease to be an inhabitant of this world, and be in an unchangeable state of happiness or misery, my feelings are not in accordance with my judgment. I cannot bring death near so as to apprehend the reality of the solemn circumstances in which I stand, on the breaking brink of eternity. But perhaps it is best that our minds should not be continually occupied with the thoughts of death. When I attempt to think distinctly of what my views and feelings shall be the moment after death, I feel lost in the obscurity of the subject. I seem to dread the awful surprise which will burst on the mind. But my only relief is that the Great Shepherd, who accompanies his sheep through the valley of the shadow of death, will be their guide afterwards, or will furnish them with a convoy of angels. We need not trouble ourselves about the particular circumstances of our future state of existence, if only we are found among the number of Christ’s sheep. For all his people he has provided suitable mansions in his Father’s house. Some will occupy much higher places than others; but if we are admitted into the very lowest, it will be enough.
“I have often resolved to begin to make special preparation for an event so certain and so near; but I find I can do nothing towards it by my own exertions. Dying grace is commonly reserved for a dying hour. The best preparation is, to be found watching and actively engaged in our Master’s service. In thinking what will make death easy, it has occurred to me, that a lively faith is all that we need. To have an humble, confident trust in Christ, will bear us up, however the waves of Jordan may swell around us. Let us not torment ourselves with unnecessary fears and scruples. We must trust entirely to the mercy of God, and the merit of Christ; and if we do so sincerely, we shall be safe. Every letter which I write to you, of late, I think will be the last; for considering our advanced age, it is to be expected that one of us will soon be called away; and it cannot be long before we shall meet in another, and I hope a better world.”
TO THE SAME.
“Princeton, June 18, 1848.
“Dear Sister: —
“I am sorry to find by your letter that your health is not as good as usual; but at our age we must expect to be subject to many and increasing infirmities, until death comes to release us from all the evils of our present condition. Though death is called the king of terrors, and the last enemy, yet to the believer he is a conquered foe, or rather is converted into a friend. Therefore Paul, in giving an inventory of the possessions of the Christian, places death among the number: l For all things are yours; whether Paul, or Apollos, or Cephas, or life, or death, or things present, or things to come; all are yours, and ye are Christ’s, and Christ is God’s, And he says again, ( For me to live is Christ, and to die is gain: ’ having a desire to depart and be with Christ, 6 which is far better, There is much sin in indulging unbelieving and unreasonable fears of death. We ought to place more confidence in the Captain of our salvation, who has promised never to leave nor forsake his people, and to be with them in the valley and shadow of death. How often do we see those who were subject to bondage all their lives, delivered from all fear when they are laid on their death beds. And thus, I trust, it will be with you. ( Jesus can make a dying bed feel soft as downy pillows are, Be determined to trust in the Lord and fear no evil. He is a powerful, a loving, and a faithful Shepherd,”
TO THE SAME.
“Princeton, August 1, 1849.
“Dear Sister: —
“Yours of the 3d inst. came to hand this morning. I am gratified to learn that your health continues so firm, at so advanced an age. It is certainly a cause of great thankfulness. What you say of your health during the past year is with some exception true in regard to myself. My general health was never so good since I was in the ministry, as for a few years past; and I am more fleshy than in any former period. But in the last month I had a pretty violent attack, which, if it had not been taken in time, might have ended in Cholera. In regard to this desolating pestilence, which is a heavy judgment on our land for the sins of the people, our town like yours has hitherto been exempt.”
Again in 1850, he writes: “My time must come soon. If I can only be ready, it matters not whether I pore over the inevitable event or not. Our departure will probably not be very far apart. May we meet in a happier world!” * The last letter to this estimable sister, and indeed the latest date which has come to our hands, is of June 12, 1851, and closes a correspondence of at least fifty years. It is written in a fair and firm hand, and is filled with lively domestic details.
We have varied from chronological exactness, and omitted certain things, in order to give these letters and extracts in unbroken series. They evidently proceed from one who had learnt to look death in the face, and are from first to last a comment on the maxim, Disce mori. If we had nothing else to judge by, we might suppose them to have been penned by one who had laid aside the entire business of life, and devoted his mind to the recluse contemplation of eternity. But so far was this from being the case, there was no time in his whole life in which he was more full of employment, or set about it with higher zest. His sympathy with the world about him was uncommon. He had not ceased to take pleasure in the affairs of the Church or the intercourse of friends, and seemed bent on working to the last both publicly and privately. The prosperity of the institution was
* Letter to Mrs. Graham, Jan. 30, 1850.
great. For part of the time the number of students was nearlyone hundred and fifty. In 1843, the beautiful library building, reared by the munificence of Mr. Lenox, was completed. Health prevailed in his own family, of whom five children out of seven now surrounded him. It was by far the most serene, if not the happiest portion of his life. It was in his view an addition to his comfort, that two of his sons were his colleagues. The visit of a deputation from the Free Church of Scotland, in 1843-4, greatly awakened his feelings. The visit of the Kev. Dr. Cunningham in particular, offered an occasion for long and interesting conference upon the state of the Church and the methods of theological education. Some of the enterprises to which he had adhered in their darker hour, such as the Foreign Missions of our Church, and the colonization of the Free Blacks, began to show signs of eminent success. In 1849, a benevolent Episcopalian of the South, in founding a seminary in Liberia, requested that it might be called the “Alexander High School;” adding, “to him they are indebted; for but for said article [proposing the plan] this donation would not have have been made, and I trust it will in due time grow into a college bearing the same name,” *
It is generally known that the various benevolent schemes of the Presbyterian Church are conducted by large commissions of clergymen and laymen, which are denominated Boards. These are elected from time to time by the General Assembly. Dr. Alexander was from their origin an important member of these bodies. Of the Standing Committee of
* Quoted in a letter of Elliott Cresson to Dr. Alexander, April 20, 1849.
Missions he was chosen a member in 1807; and continued in this and in the Board of Missions which grew out of it, until his death. As long as he remained in Philadelphia he met constantly with the Committee, and sometimes went from Princeton afterwards for the same purpose. He was a member of the Board of Education, from the beginning. We have elsewhere spoken of his interest in the Board of Foreign Missions. At the first meeting of the Western Missionary Society, which preceded the Board, he was elected a Vice-President. In 1837 he was chosen a member of the Board, and remained such as long as he lived. “He was punctual,” says the Hon. Walter Lowrie, “in his attendance at the meetings; and from his minute knowledge of all its operations was a most useful and influential member. After the death of Dr. Miller, he was on the 6th of May, 1850, elected President of the Board, and was such until the time of his death.” He was likewise President of the Board of Publication from its origin, was constantly invited to their counsels, and prepared a number of their works.
In addition to these strictly Presbyterian schemes, he was greatly interested in the American Sunday School Union, the American Bible Society, and the American Tract Society. For the first named he furnished several valuable publications. In regard to the Tract Society his affection and zeal never abated. For a time he was a member of their Publishing Committee; he wrote some of their smaller publications, and was a frequent contributor to the American Messenger; in which, it is believed, his very last communication for the press appeared. One of the closing acts of his life was to give a sum to send one of their small libraries to a destitute pastor. He was particularly solicitous to extend their circulation of volumes, and said, late in life: “I reflect on no part of my life with more satisfaction than any little agency I have had in encouraging and promoting the Society’s volume circulation. I do consider the success of this enterprise as intimately connected with the prosperity of vital scriptural piety in our land; not in any one church, but in all evangelical churches, and beyond them all, by conveying a sound and practical knowledge of the Gospel to multitudes who enjoy no public means of grace, or have not attended on them. If I could do any thing more to urge on this blessed work which has been so auspiciously commenced, I would cordially lend my aid.” Again he says, under a later date: “The success of the volume circulation gladdens my heart every time I think of it; and I sincerely wish that, instead of twenty volumes, you had a hundred in circulation.”
It is proper that we should add something of the literary labours of this period. He was accustomed to say that he wrote more than in any previous part of his life. Indeed it was his solace, and the pen was continually in his hand. This is the more surprising, as for some of his closing years, he scarcely made any use of one eye, and was frequently threatened in the other. Yet when he was not hurried, his manuscript character was round, clear and bold; though he never used desk or table, but held the paper before him, on a wide book or port-folio.
His volume entitled “Thoughts on Keligious Experience,”
already mentioned, appeared as a separate work in 1840. It contains the results of his matured thinking upon the inward work of grace, and has been extensively useful. No one of his writings more fully reveals his own opinions and feelings upon the rise and progress of godliness in the soul. The wrk was adopted by the Presbyterian Board of Publication, and in 1853 appeared in a German translation.
In 1841, he reviewed the Works of Dr. Chalmers, for whom he cherished the greatest respect, but from whom he was constrained to differ on some points of metaphysical theology. Especially he objects, as McCosh has since done, to Chalmers’s opinion, that morality can be ascribed to no feeling or emotion unless it be the consequence of volition, or somehow connected with volition.* He also wrote, as he had often done before, on the “Religious Instruction of the Negroes.” He likewise reviewed Dr. Hetherington’s History of the Westminster Assembly. f He contributed a warm and instructive article in behalf of American Colonization, in which he reiterates his opinion thus: “We do believe, that it is the design of a wise and benignant Providence to make Liberia the asylum of the whole African race now dispersed over this continent and the West India islands. It is our sincere persuasion, that no event which has occurred in the world since the commencement of the nineteenth century, is at all equal in real importance to the successful establishment of this little colony,” He furnished reviews of
* Princeton Review, 1841, p. 30, ff. The article is only in part from his pen.
f Princeton Review, 1843, pp. 30-41; and pp. 561-587.
Dr. Beid’s “History of the Presbyterian Church in Ireland;” and of the “Debate on Baptism” between Dr. Rice and Alexander Campbell.* He wrote and published at some length on the Life of Dean Milner, whom he greatly admired, on Struther’s History of the Belief Church in Scotland, and on the collected works of Andrew Fuller. f The Horae Apo$hlypticae of Elliott drew from him a long and careful dissertation; .and he wrote an extended review of Dr. Davidson’s valuable History of Kentucky. J The publication of Chalmers’s Sketches of Mental and Moral Philosephy urged him to appear again in the way of candid and decided animadversion on some points, mingled with hearty praise and admiration. § He gave a notice of the “Free Church Pulpit,” a Life of Bobert Blair, and a discussion of Free Communion, as against the rigid view of the Baptists; which, if we mistake not, closed his labours in the Princeton Beview. Meanwhile he was preparing and at length published his volumes on the “History of the Log College,” and the “History of African Colonization;” the latter being a volume of 603 octavo pages. During this time, there was scarcely a week in which he did not contribute some paper to the religious journals. No one accustomed to consider the progress of literary performances can run over this list of publications, without some astonishment, that they should have proceeded from
* Princeton Review, 1844, pp. 57, 199, 581
f Princeton Review, 1845, p. 191, and 1846, pp. 26, and 547.
:£ Princeton Review, 1847, pp. 141, and 450.
§ 1848, p. 529, ff.
1849, p. 82, and 1850, pp. 185, 557.
one who was nearly approaching fourscore; especially when on examination they are found to betray no marks of senility, but to furnish instances of his most acute reasoning powers and most ardent emotion. But in truth these were but a small portion of his labours with the pen, during his last ten years. Not to mention new lectures on the branches which he had long taught, he was making incursions into new fields. Among the manuscripts which remain are many of this period, on important subjects, and some which were produced during the very last year of his life. Certain of these are on the Composition and Delivery of Sermons. He drew out the careful plan of a work on the Duties and Consolations of the Christian, and began to fill up the outline, at moments of leisure; this seems to have been one of his last employments. He completed his volume on Moral Science, which was published soon after his decease, and which leaves its testimony to the unimpaired vigour of his understanding. He projected, and carried out through some hundreds of pages, a work on Patristical Theology, intended to exhibit the opinions of the Fathers, on all leading points in divinity. It is a contribution to what the Germans call Dogmengeschichte. He began a Memoir of the Rev. William Graham, to whom his grateful affection seemed always ready to turn, as long as he lived. This fills a small quarto, and is nearly complete. He had for years been gathering materials for a History of the Presbyterian Church in Virginia; and from time to time was engaged in entering in an immense folio, biographical sketches of distinguished American clergymen, and alumni of the College of New Jer-
sey. To these must be added the whole of those autobiographical sketches, filling numerous volumes, to which we are indebted for the earlier portions of our narrative. These do not extend further than the year 1810. They are interspersed with memoirs of almost every distinguished minister of his acquaintance; to which indeed their extraordinary extent is to be ascribed. But for the express inhibition of their author, they should have been made public in their original shape. But nothing more evinces his untiring diligence, and the spring of his enterprise, than the fact that when, in 1851^ the chair of Church Government was left vacant, he not only assumed the duties of this department, but immediately addressed himself to the work of preparing a course of lectures. We have before us his fair and sightly manuscript, of sixty-three large folio pages, on “Church Polity and Discipline.” It was evidently broken off by his last illness, and ends with an unfinished sentence, on the independency of churches. This was in September, 1851.
In this same lapse of time he wrote numerous sermons, and preached upon an average once every Lord’s Day. He likewise corresponded with friends, answering perpetually recurring queries on important points connected with religion and the Church. The routine of his Seminary appointments was followed with the punctuality and much of the vivacity of former years. What was wanting of earlier grace and sprightliness was more than replaced by the dignity and wisdom of age. At no time did he carry more weight among his attached pupils than in these years of venerable decline. In May, 1849, the resignation of Dr. Miller, which he had sought two years earlier, was finally accepted. It was a touching sight to behold the forms of himself and his aged colleague on those occasions when they appeared together at the head of their students. Many an observer was prompted to exclaim, “The hoary head is a crown of glory, if it be found in the way of righteousness!”
It was during the year in which he died, that Mrs. Mary Lundie Duncan, of Scotland, visited Princeton. “The hours passed in Princeton,” says this Christian lady, “amid the courtesies and hospitalities of the venerable Dr. Alexander, are among the hoarded gems of memory. A powerful interest hangs around that aged man, so true of heart, so distinct of mind, so affable of manners. He is full of Christian sympathies, and ready to communicate, so that you require but to put an inquiry and he flows out, whether the subject be of sixty years since or of yesterday, and it is your own fault if you are not the wiser for his communings. Perhaps others may have remarked, what added much to the interest that cleaves to this excellent gentleman — his strong resemblance to Wilberforce. Though much more bulky, yet the figure is like that of a twin brother. His manner of sitting in his easy chair, of speaking, of smiling, and above all his ready way of giving information, and his edifying Christian remarks, showed a resemblance both in the mould and in the jewel within.” The resemblance in the points mentioned has been noted by others, and will not fail to be suggested to any who examine the striking statue of Wilberforce, in Westminster Abbey. But we ought not to withhold a marginal note of Mrs. Duncan’s, upon the above paragraph. “How touchingly,” she adds, “are these remembrances deepened in pathos, by the tidings just arrived, that the Patriarch is with Abraham, and Moses, and all the prophets, in glory. It is true he has reached the consummation of his faith and hope, but then his family have lost him — his students have lost him. Princeton will see his face no more. The Church will never again appeal to his wisdom and experience. America must number him with her patriots, and heroes, and divines, who have departed — and I, a passing stranger, while I prize the more the privilege of having seen him, feel but the more keenly that the anticipated ’ passing away’ has begun.”*
The death of numerous distant friends has been recorded; but we have to mention some nearer home, which cast a heavy shade over the society of Princeton. One of these was the decease of the Kev. Albert B. Dod, D. D., Professor of Mathematics in the College of New Jersey; a man whose brilliant genius, social charms and high promise caused his loss to be keenly and widely felt. In 1848, the Kev. Ashbel Green, D. D.? late President of the College, departed this life. His remains were placed among the sepulchres of the great presidents and divines in the Princeton cemetery. Between him and Dr. Alexander, who was his junior by about ten years, there existed a strong and unbroken Christian attachment. But the event which more than all others in life made old age significant, was the departure of the Kev. Dr. Miller, on the 7th of January, 1850.
* “America as I Found it. By the mother of Mary Lundie Duncan.” Carters, pp. 107-8.
Although the public has reason to expect a memoir of this venerable servant of Christ, we cannot refrain at this point from adding something to what we have already said concerning his character. His excellencies were admitted widely in the church, for he was known throughout our own country and in foreign lands. His publications were numerous, and were to a large extent vindications of the doctrine and polity of the Church which he loved. No Presbyterian is ignorant of the promptitude, courage and address with which he came forward on more than one occasion, when what he deemed important truth was assailed. As a writer he was remarkable for the purity and perspicuity of his style, and the absence of all meretricious ornament. He was a great reader, and was accustomed to enrich his works with numerous and apt citations from other authors. As an instructor, he was laborious, full and lucid. For six and thirty years he occupied the chair of Ecclesiastical History and Church Government; with a respect from all concerned, which augmented with his age.
It is impossible to remember Dr. Miller, without thinking of him as a Christian gentleman. Without an approach to stiffness, he was urbane and elegant in all the forms of the best society, with which indeed he had always mingled. He was cheerful and cordial in his greetings, lively in conversation, and fond of social intercourse. It was to this that the founding and continuance of a clerical association was due, in which he and his ministerial friends met at one another’s houses during many years. He was the charm of mixed companies; being rich in topics of discourse, and si happy beyond most men in apposite anecdote and historical reminiscence. Indeed we have never known any one who could give such magical effect to little ebullitions of humour, which repeated by the lips of others seemed to lose all their aroma. But nothing so marked his character as his evangelical piety. It was the opinion of his colleague, that in this Dr. Miller steadily grew, till the very last. He loved the cause of his Master, and was unwearied in his endeavours to promote it. The work of preaching the Gospel was his delight. Unsatisfied with the opportunities afforded by the Seminary Chapel, the College and the village church, he readily complied with every invitation from abroad, and until extreme old age was accustomed to go to the neighbouring congregations on every side, and unsought to bestow those labours which were always welcome and edifying.
We have already spoken of the inviolable sacredness of fraternal regard which for nearly forty years subsisted between him and his colleague. During this long period the thread of their lives had been entwined together, with increasing closeness. They were mutual advisers and confidential friends, and rejoiced in each other’s progress, happiness, and acceptance with the church. Their differences of opinion, which were slight and few, were matters for amicable repartee, but never caused them even for an hour to draw in different directions; no one ever dreamed of such a thing as a faction for one or the other. It was most natural, therefore, that Dr. Alexander should look with sadness upon the tokens of decline in his respected brother. For some months Dr. Miller had been subject to attacks of disease, and at length was entirely confined to Lis house. His decline, however, was denoted more by great debility than by severe pain. Amidst it all, he was calm and believing. Foreseeing his departure with an unerring eye, he was resolute in his assertion of all the truths which he had taught, and humbly confident in his expressions of hope in Jesus Christ. Dr. Alexander thus briefly records his decease. “Dr. Miller’s health had been declining for several months. He had scarcely any disease, except the decay of old age. By degrees he sunk, until the seventh of this month, when he gave up his spirit to God who gave it. He was calm and comfortable in mind during his whole confinement. He expressed no very lively feelings, but was troubled with no fears or doubts. A day or two before his death, I asked him whether any dark cloud at any time came over his mind; he replied, c None whatever,” *
Among all who surrounded his grave, there was none whose mind was more deeply solemn than his aged colleague, who pronounced a simple but touching funeral discourse. It is much to be regretted that no full report of this was ever made. The notes which exist among his papers are no more than hints for the aid of memory: yet even these fragments we feel it to be duty to subjoin in part. A large portion is manifestly lost. The text was Hebrews xi. 13;” These all died in faith,” &c.
“The Reverend Dr. Miller was born in the town of Dover, in the State of Delaware. His father was the pastor of a Presbyterian church in that place, then flourishing, but of late years almost extinct. His early eduction was ob-
* Letter to Mrs. Graham, Jan. 30, 1850.
tained under the special tuition of his father. In this best of all schools he was prepared to enter college; and when of suitable age he resorted to the University of Pennsylvania, where in due time he was graduated. He had selected the ministry of the Gospel as his profession; impelled, we have no doubt, by a sincere desire to glorify God and do good to men; but the speaker has no particular acquaintance with the early religious exercises of the deceased.” Here occurs a chasm. — “Being always careful in his preparations, and possessing a neat and perspicuous style and a graceful elocution, he continually grew in popularity; and as his preaching was truly evangelical, it was highly acceptable to serious Christians. At an age much earlier than usual, he was honoured with the degree of Doctor of Divinity, by one of the eastern Colleges; a distinction which he afterwards received from other sources; as well as recently that of Doctor of Laws. During twenty years he continued as a pastor in the city of New- York. Before the decease of Dr. Kodgers, the Eutgers-street church was separated from the Collegiate church, and called Dr. Milledoler; and at the decease of Dr. Kodgers the Collegiate church was divided into the Wall-street and the Brick church. Of the former Dr. Miller became the pastor, and laboured acceptably among that people, until in the spring of 1813 he was chosen Professor of Ecclesiastical History and Church Government, in the Theological Seminary at this place; and in the autumn of the same year, he entered upon the duties of his office.
“It may be remarked, that no man in the Church had been more zealous and active in founding this Institution, than Dr. Miller. He and Dr. Green may more properly be considered its founders than any other persons. Others aided by their counsels and occasional exertions, but these two devoted themselves with untiring zeal to the prosecution of the object, and had the pleasure of seeing their exertions crowned with success. At this time, Dr. Miller, so far as I know, was not thought of as a professor; and I am persuaded the thought was entirely foreign from his own mind. In connection with this Institution he has continued until the day of his death.
“Besides labouring in his appropriate vocation, he has very frequently preached in this and the neighbouring churches; and I think I may say, that I never knew a minister, who delighted more in preaching the Gospel. As he advanced in life, it appeared to his friends that his preaching became more spiritual and evangelical. Even to the time when the decay of physical strength confined him to the house, he sought opportunities of delivering the Gospel message to the congregations in the vicinity. As to his writings, which are numerous, and his professional labours, I need not speak. Of his ability, learning and fidelity, there are hundreds of witnesses scattered over the land.”
“The character of our deceased friend and brother may be thus summed up. In all the private and domestic relations of life he was exemplary. — As a neighbour he was kind and courteous to all, and exactly just in his dealings. As a minister he was faithful and evangelical, and was accustomed to present the truths of the Gospel in a manner so distinct and methodical, that his discourses could not only be understood with ease, but readily remembered by the attentive hearer. — As a member of church judicatories, he was an able advocate for [truth], a warm friend to experimental and practical piety, and of course a friend of revivals. No member of our Church has done more to explain and defend her doctrines than our deceased brother. With his colleagues he was uniformly cordial; and I have never known a man more entirely free from vainglory, envy, and jealousy. To the students under his care he was paternal and affectionate.”
We cannot more appropriately close what relates to the union of these two men, than by giving insertion to an extract from a letter from Dr. Miller, to the Kev. Henry A. Boardman, D. D., of Philadelphia. It has a pathos which will go to many a heart.
“Princeton, Feb. 28, 1849.
“I thank you, my dear brother, for the kind expressions which you employ on the prospect of my retiring from office. I am, indeed, nearly worn out. Far advanced in my eightieth year, I have outlived all my relatives, and all my own expectations, and am compassed about with so many infirmities, that I am persuaded a longer continuance in office would be in no respect just, either to the Seminary or myself. Yet in looking forward to retirement from official labour, and especially to that day which is near at hand, when I must ’ put off this tabernacle, I desire to bless God for the humble hope which I am permitted to entertain, that I have so good a home to go to, where there will be no more infirmity, and especially no more sin; but perfect union and conformity to Him who, though he was rich, for our sakes became poor, that we through his poverty might be rich.
“I desire to unite with you, my dear brother, in thanksgiving to the Great Head of the Church, that our beloved Seminary has been made so useful to our Zion, by training so large a portion of our ministry under the same teachers; and I hope I have some sincere gratitude that I have been permitted to occupy a place, and take some humble part in this hallowed work. But I can truly say that the sentiment which most strongly and prominently occupies my mind, is that of thankfulness that the Lord has been pleased to unite me with colleagues so wise, so faithful, so much superior to myself, and so eminently adapted to be a blessing to the Church. I consider it as one of the greatest blessings of my life to be united with such men, and pre-eminently with my senior colleague, whose wisdom, prudence, learning, and peculiar piety have served as an aid and guide to myself, as well as to others. I desire to leave it on record for the eye of intimate friendship, that in my own estimation my union with these beloved men has been the means of adding to my own respectability and my own usefulness far more than I could ever, humanly speaking, have attained, either alone or in association with almost any other men. I desire especially to feel thankful that I ever saw the face of my venerated senior colleague. He has been for thirty-six years, to me a counsellor, a guide, a prop, and a stay, under God, to a degree which it would not be easy for me to estimate or acknowledge.
“The union in our Faculty has been complete. And the solid basis of the whole has been a perfect agreement on the part of all of us in an honest subscription to our doctrinal formularies. There has been no discrepance — no pulling in different directions here.
“Hoping to see you in a few days, I am, my dear sir, your friend and brother in Christian bonds.
“Samuel Miller.”
From his more important correspondence we here select a letter addressed by him to Bishop Meade of Virginia. This excellent man had written to him a proper and Christian communication, informing him, that a passage in his “Religious Experience” had been quoted as favouring certain errors respecting Baptismal Begeneration.*
DR. ALEXANDER TO THE RT. REV. WILLIAM MEADE.
“Princeton, May 3, 1849.
“Kev. and Dear Sir: —
“Your favour of the 28th ult. came to hand two days ago, and would have received an earlier answer; but on inquiry, I could not obtain a copy of ‘Religious Experience, in my house or in the Seminary, so that I had to send to Philadelphia for a copy. Upon examining the passage to which you refer, as supposed by some to be erroneous, I find nothing which I should wish to alter. The sentiments expressed are in perfect accordance with the doctrines received as orthodox by our Church, and may be found in Chamock and Owen, and in Dr. Buchanan’s late work on the Spirit. If, however, I had
* From a copy retained by Dr. Alexander. foreseen the perversion which some have made of my real opinion, I would perhaps have avoided the use of the phrase, 6 baptismal regeneration;? but I have clearly explained that my meaning was, that as infants are capable of regeneration before the use of reason, that blessing might be granted at the moment when they were made the subjects of an ordinance, which is intended to give an emblematical representation of that change. And although I have intimated that there was a greater probability of the child being regenerated at the time of its baptism, than at any other period of infancy; yet so far from believing that we had many cases of c sanctification from the womb, in our day, I have said, c The reason why it is believed that regeneration does not usually accompany baptism, is simply because no evidences of spiritual life appear in baptized children more than in those which remain unbaptized, (See p. 26, 3d edition.)
“As infants, according to the creed of all reformed churches, are infected with original sin, they cannot, without regeneration, be qualified for the happiness of heaven. Children, dying in infancy, must therefore be regenerated without the instrumentality of the Word; and as the Holy Scriptures have not informed us that any of the human family departing in infancy will be lost, we are permitted to hope that all such will be saved. I am aware that an excellent and evangelical minister of your Church has, in a late work against Puseyism, maintained that children, before the exercise of reason, are incapable of regeneration; but this is a new theory, contrary to all the sound doctrines of your Church as well as mine.
“The sentiment which you from memory attribute to me, [is founded on] the following citation, c that you affirm that when the evidences of regeneration appear in the young, the regeneration is to be referred back to its baptism, without ascribing any efficacy to the word sown, &c. The sentiment here asscribed to me I do not find in the book; and certainly it is no opinion which I hold. But I do maintain that the germ of spiritual life may be communicated to the soul of an infant, which of course remains inactive, as does the principle of sin, until after the exercise of reason and conscience it is developed; and this development, or, in other words, the actual exercise of repentance toward God, and faith in our Lord Jesus Christ, is altogether by the Word, without which the exercises of piety are inconceivable.
“But the doctrine referred to above, that infants are incapable of being regenerated until they are capable of attending to the Word, is, in my opinion, fraught with consequences subversive of our whole system. For, if infants are incapable of a holy principle, the same must be true of a sinful principle; and then the whole doctrine of c birth sin’ or natural depravity is set aside. It may remove some obscurity from the subject of the opinions expressed by me, [to say] that we are accustomed, in treating the subject of regeneration with accuracy, to distinguish between it and conversion. The one is the communication of spiritual life; the other is its exercise. Where reason and the moral faculty are developed, the latter uniformly follows the former; but in infants, where reason is not in exercise, the one may exist without the other; but as soon as the child becomes a
moral agent, then this new life, under the influence of the Word, will be manifested.
“The doctrine which I hold respecting infants may be illustrated by the case of a seed which contains a vital principle, which, however, remains inactive until it is placed in favourable circumstances; when under the influence of sun, rain, &c., vegetation commences, and the seed springs forth visibly into life. Suppose a dead seed to be impregnated with a vital principle, and you have my idea of regeneration.
u I thank you for the two catechisms which you were so kind as to send me. I will peruse them with pleasure when I have a little leisure.
“I am, with high respect, yours, &c., &c.
“A. A.
“Right Rev. W. Meade.”
There were two of his last public appearances away from home, which seem to deserve a record from us. The first of these concerns the meeting of the Synod of New Jersey at Elizabethtown in 1850.
DR. MAGIE TO JAMES W. ALEXANDER.
“Jan. 20, 1854.
“My Dear Sir: —
“You ask me for some account of your father’s last visit to Elizabethtown; and with sincere pleasure I comply with your request. It was to attend the meeting of the Synod of New Jersey, just one year before that held in Princeton, during the sessions of which the Lord permitted him to enter upon his final rest. Many of us never expected another
opportunity of looking upon his beloved face, or listening to his cheering and animating voice.
“A few months before, he had spent a Sabbath with my people, and preached a sermon to youth, which is still remembered and spoken x)f with the deepest interest. We then considered it doubtful whether he should be able to attend the meeting of Synod. Still on the appointed day he was here, and appeared to be in quite good health and spirits. On both these occasions he was an inmate of my family, and had I leisure, I should love to speak of his pleasant intercourse with us, and especially of the calm, earnest, and comprehensive prayers he offered for me and mine. His presence seemed to make our house like i a, field which the Lord has blessed, As the meetings of Synod were progressing, I invited a number of his former students to meet him at my table. We enjoyed these interviews, and he evidently enjoyed them too. Now and then he indulged a little in the quiet humour which always distinguished him, and which added zest and life to his conversation. But every thing was seasoned with grace.
“It was, however, of his appearance in the Synod that I intended chiefly to speak. There he was the same wise, kind, unobtrusive man he ever was in such bodies, neither putting himself forward to mingle in every little debate, nor declining to give his opinion when the nature of the business required it. I have often admired his conduct in this respect, and could wish it had more imitators. Dr. Alexander was not one of those who conclude that nothing is well done which they have not had the shaping of.
“You know it is the custom of our Synod to devote one evening to public prayer and exhortation; and I was very desirous that your father should make one of the addresses. Accordingly as Chairman of the Committee of Arrangements, I mentioned the matter to him. At first he said, c I am too old, you must select some other person, I replied — ( You see, sir, that a large proportion of the ministers of the Synod have been your pupils, and this may be the last time that they will ever have the privilege of listening to your voice, He seemed struck with the suggestion, but said nothing farther. In the evening he made his address, and though he seemed feeble at first, his words had the same life and power with those which we had often heard in his earlier days. It was such a strain of affectionate counsel as only a man like him could give. He commenced with a reference to the fact, that he found himself standing in the presence of many who had once been his beloved pupils; and as he went on to urge us to quit ourselves like men, for God, and the great interests of his kingdom, he appeared to be talking to us as from the very gates of the celestial city. It is scarcely too much to say, that we beheld his face as if it had been the face of an angel. His heart was melted, and our hearts were melted likewise.
“Even making some abatement for the mingled feelings of veneration and love with which we regarded him, I must say, it was one of his very best efforts. He felt evidently that it was the last time. Every thing in his manner, his looks, and the tones of his voice, as well as in the words he uttered, indicated that he stood on the very verge of heaven,
and was fully ready to say, I have fought a good fight, I have finished my course, I have kept the faith; henceforth there is laid up for me a crown of righteousness, which the Lord the righteous Judge shall give me at that day. And it was the last time. Most of us saw his face no more.
“Great and good man! May his mantle, as well as that of the beloved Miller, fall on all our rising ministry! Then would Zion arise and shine, her light being come, and the glory of the Lord risen upon her.
iC Very truly and affectionately yours,
“David Magie.”
The other visit was to the church in South Trenton, which he had regarded with much interest, as the pastor had been one of his pupils. From this friend we have derived the statement which follows. It was a beautiful summer day, July 27, 1851, and a communion Sabbath. As the church-edifice was incomplete, the services took place in the Mercer Court House. Dr. Alexander preached on that occasion to the edification and delight of all who heard him, and also rendered mosfc valuable assistance at the table. He was apprehensive lest he might be seized with a faintness, to which he had been subject at times, but nothing of the kind occurred. The sermon was rich in Bible truth and Christian experience, and in manner he was more than usually animated, solemn and impressive, to the very close. In the afternoon he made an address to the Sabbath School. The room was crowded almost to suffocation. His venerable appearance, penetrating eye, silvery locks and tremulous voice, all had a tendency to increase the interest which all present, from the oldest to the youngest, felt in the distinguished speaker, as in a serious but familiar manner he commenced by saying:” In a hundred years, every one who hears me
now will be in heaven or in hell! This is the last
time I expect to address you. You will probably never see me again. But you will remember what I tell you long after I am dead and gone. You will remember that an old man addressed you on this occasion. When a little boy, only five or six years old, I remember hearing an old man preach the Gospel, just as you hear me now. I remember how gray his hair was, and how old he looked, and how he was dressed. And I never can forget the text that he preached from. It was these words: c If any man love not the Lord Jesus Christ, let him be anathema maranatha! I did not then know the meaning of these hard words, but the minister went on to explain them, and said that if we did not love the Lord Jesus Christ, we should all be accursed of God and devoted to destruction. And this I repeat in your hearing this day, my young friends. If you do not love the Saviour you will be destroyed. You can never enjoy his favour and blessing unless you love him with all your hearts, and do whatsoever he has commanded you. Kemember it is an old man that tells you so — on the authority of the Word of God. When you go home, write it down that on this, July 27, a. d. 1851, Dr. Alexander, an old man, addressed the Sunday School, and said, ( If any man love not the Lord Jesus Christ, let him be anathema maranatha, Kemember it is an old man that tells you so, These are a few of the words, and a very imperfect sketch at best of what fell from his lips on that occasion, which can never be forgotten by the hundreds of children and youth, together with their teachers, who heard him. Even the youngest child had its eyes fastened on him to the last, drinking in the words which he spake, while all listened with breathless attention to this farewell address.
“This I believe was the last time this venerable man ever preached the Gospel out of Princeton, and it was a good day’s work. How faithfully that work was performed, how full of holy zeal for his Master and of love to the souls of his fellow-men, there are multitudes of living witnesses in our midst who can testify, some of whom we humbly hope shall rise up in the judgment and call him blessed.”
Our labours concerning the events of Dr. Alexander’s active life are now brought to a close. But before we approach the scenes of the termination, it may be allowed us to recur for a little to the general aspect of his declining years. In person he was certainly much changed, but not in the way which gives painful indication of infirmity. As we have found him repeatedly saying in his letters, he was enjoying the sense of health, more than in his years of prime. His body was fuller, and his eye had not waxed dim. When he chose it, winch was rarely, he was competent to extraordinary exertion. His hearing was acute to the last, and with the aid of glasses he used his sight without complaint. His love of children, of family chat, of visits from friends, of psalmody, and of the daily journals, was undiminished. As he walked home from an evening service, he said to one
of his family, whom he almost outstripped in the rapidity of his step, “I begin to think there is a literality in that saying of the prophet Isaiah, xl. 30, l But they that wait on the Lord shall renew their strength,” On the day of his entering his seventy-eighth year, he visited the house of his eldest son, played gaily with the children, and seemed as alert and keen as in his best days. His attention to his grandchildren was remarkable. They clambered upon his knee as freely as their parents had done before them, were instructed by his drawings and his tales, and seemed to give him unmingled delight. He often prayed over them, laying on them his hands in benediction.
It was almost a daily remark in the house, that these were his best days, even in natural things, and that he never had so vivid an enjoyment of life. Such was his own delightful admission. “Old age,” said he, “is not an unpleasant part of life, where health and piety are possessed.”** A host of physical evils which had beset him in earlier days, had now been mercifully removed. His simple nourishment was enjoyed without rule or scruple, and the morbid vigils which once distressed him gave place to balmy sleep. It was apparent to every one that he was in higher spirits, even if sometimes his alternations of depressed feeling would return. Occasionally he would break out in conversation with all the exuberance and glee of his youth; but the characteristic of his temper was a benignant serenity. From our earliest recollections, he had been accustomed to sit and muse in the evening twilight, often prolonging these hours
* Letter to Mrs. Graham, Augilst 15, 1850.
far beyond the time when lights are usually demanded. These moments, though solemn, appeared to be pleasurable. In these he pursued his most fruitful trains of thought. As he grew older, this solitary exercise was more frequent and protracted; and in no instance did it seem to merge into any thing like slumber. It was a period to be gratefully remembered, as one of singular peace.
From what has been extracted from his correspondence, it may be gathered that he was continually meditating on his approaching departure; but this gave no sombre colouring to his manner or his words. Though he never spoke, except by incidental allusion, of his personal experience, it was too evident to admit of doubt, that his countenance was often radiant with uncommon spiritual joys. It broke out in his family prayers, in his singing of psalms and hymns, which he continued in the domestic service till the very last, and especially in his sermons and addresses at the Lord’s Table.
Old age never seemed to occur to him as affording a motive to relax in labour. His principle was, that the faculties were to be kept in vigour by perpetual use. The same had once been expressed to him by his friend Dr. Kice: “As far as my observation goes, there are two errors to which aged men are exposed. One is, of holding on, and refusing to admit that they are old. We have seen some instances of this. The other is precisely opposite. It is allowing themselves to grow prematurely old. Failing to exercise their faculties, they become rusty and move like an old door whose hinges are never oiled. I have no doubt about the fact, that
when the organs through which the mind acts, fail, mental imbecility ensues. But I am equally certain, that ceasing to exert our faculties greatly impairs their strength. And I am convinced that when a man, whose life has been very active, retires, he very soon sinks into second childhood.”* The opinion here advanced was one which Dr. Alexander cherished, often uttered, and persistently acted on; with an entire success which seems to us instructive. His own words express somewhat characteristically the temper of his mind in regard to public duty; it was only a few months before his death, that he thus wrote.
DR. ALEXANDER TO THE REV. DR. PLUMER.
“Princeton, April 16, 1851.
“Reverend and dear Sir: —
“To relieve your mind from all uneasiness respecting the expression in my letter, about not continuing much longer to be a professor, I would inform you, that on this day week I expect to enter on my eightieth year; and of course I cannot expect to ’ continue here much longer, I have no intention of resigning, while my health is good, and my mind sound. If I should be seized with paralysis, or some other disease which would entirely disqualify me for performing the duties of my office, I might deem it expedient to resign; but it is my general purpose and hope, to die in the harness. My health and spirits were never better than at present; although the excitability of my nervous
* Letter of Dr. John H. Rice, January 8, 1830.
system occasions seasons of depression and uneasy feeling, from the physical state. All I want is a stronger faith. This I hope I shall receive in the hour of need, in answer to many prayers. And you could not gratify me more than by your declared purpose to remember me in your prayers.
“With kind regards to Mrs. Plumer and your daughters, I remain very truly yours, &c.
“A. A.”
During this time he very much ceased to go abroad, and confined himself most of the day to his study. Here, however, he was to be found neither idle nor resting, but generally engaged in study, and to an extraordinary extent in writing. There was scarcely a new work of interest in any of his chosen departments, which he did not peruse. There was no person of our acquaintance who kept himself more abreast of the literature which regards the Millennarian and the Geological controversies. On all such topics his conversation was as flowing and as judicious as in former days. What is most worthy of mention is, that no one discovered or suspected the slightest decay of the mental powers. On every subject to which he applied his mind, he manifested not only soundness but quickness. Though he sometimes complained of some difficulty in remembering names, his friends remarked that he was annoyed by the same many years before. It was observed with wonder by all his family, that Providence seemed to have given him full exemption from the common weaknesses of old age.
At the stroke of the bell, he might be seen without fail, issuing from his study door, and going across the small space which divided the Seminary from his grounds; much bent, and with eyes turned to the ground, as he paced slowly on, wrapped in his cloak and with his profuse silver locks waving in the wind; but often, as if at some sudden dash of thought, he would quicken his steps almost to running, and ascend the threshold with alacrity. This was a peculiarity of his motion all his life. His children always knew his whereabout, by the vivacity of his changes, and used to say jocosely that he never closed or opened a door softly, and always ran up stairs. With his manuscript rolled up in his hand, he took the chair, and after a short and pertinent prayer, began his instructions. They were always such as kept his pupils in wakeful attention, and so far as we know were not less acceptable than those of his younger life.
It has been said that he continued to preach. That he should have done this with so much pleasure to himself and so little abatement of interest in his audiences, is not a little surprising; especially when we consider the bodily changes which he had sustained. His voice remained clear, and though tending to play too much among the upper notes of the register, had no weakness; and notwithstanding the total loss of teeth his articulation was perfect. He read from his manuscript more than in his middle life; but often threw in new matter, and almost always closed with an extemporaneous application. The signal for this was the sudden throwing up of the spectacles upon his forehead; and he would then enchain the attention and control the feelings of the assembly in a manner which sometimes reminded them
of his best efforts. At the Sunday afternoon Conference, he still loved to indulge his talent for original and animated remark; we suppose there was no one of his intellectual efforts which abode more in its pristine vigour.
No observation was more common than that Dr. Alexander was unlike most old men; in his tolerance for the changes of the day. If a new scheme of any promise was on foot, he was really more inclined to listen and to favour, than most younger men. The passing events of the neighbourhood and the country awakened his inquisitive interest. In this he has strikingly reminded us of Chancellor Kent. One reason for this was his persevering habit of learning all that public journals could convey. Another reason may be found in his almost total exemption from what may be called the pride of years. He was in no such sense a laudator temporis acti, as that he undervalued or disparaged contemporary men and things. We have no recollection of ever hearing him hold up former generations of ministers as models, or lauding the works and methods of his youth, or complaining of deterioration in preaching. He was sanguine in his hopes for both Church and country, and favourable even to a fault in regard to the performances of junior brethren. Every one was welcome to his door; and many are the instances in which he has spent an hour in lively conversation with some itinerant chapman or agent, whom most would regard as a nuisance; but from whom he always contrived to learn something.
On a former page we have employed a word which was often on his lips, and which more than all others denotes the blessedness of his Christian evening; it was Peace. Sometimes it seemed to be c perfect peace, No cloud is known to have darkened his prospect for years, in regard to his personal acceptance with God. And though his prayers and discourses more than his common talk were the vehicle of his joyful thoughts, it was a pleasure to all who were near him to observe how he had outlived and thrown off one care and anxiety after another, until he stood almost inprocinctu, stript and ready, for the last conflict. This was not the less edifying or delightful, for being accompanied with a serene and healthful interest in all the concerns of his family and his calling; and it seems incredible that any one could pass through a long period of decline with less burden to others or less exaction from them on the score of infirmity or years. After all, we feel how impossible it is by any report of ours to convey an adequate impression of this truly happy and beautiful old age.