Funeral Services and Other Testimonials

FTJNEEAL SERVICES, AND OTHER TESTIMONIALS OF RESPECT.

GREAT solemnity was added to the scenes which have just been reported, by the fact that the Synod of New Jersey was meeting in Princeton at the time. This venerable body adjourned to attend the funeral services, which took place on Thursday, the 23d of October. The concourse of awed and mourning friends was extraordinary. Many members of the New- York and Philadelphia Synods were present, as well as numerous fellow Christians of other persuasions. The Synod of New Jersey, after meeting in the Chapel, assumed the principal part in the solemnities. The Presbytery of New Brunswick accompanied the remains as pall-bearers. Then followed the family, and Professors, the Directors, the students, the clergy and a multitude of mourning friends. The assembly gathered in the First Presbyterian Church, where the galleries were filled with the students of the two institutions, and the body of the house with the

Synod, while the aisles and even the pulpit stairs were occupied by the attendant throng.

A prayer by the Kev. Dr. Murray opened the service. The students of the Seminary then sang a hymn. Part of the fifteenth chapter of the first epistle to the Corinthians was read. The hymn, ‘Why should we mourn departed friends, was sung. After which, in pursuance of a wish expressed by the departed, a funeral discourse was delivered by the Kev. John McDowell, D. D., the oldest Director. His most appropriate text was Revelation xiv. 13. “And I heard a voice from heaven saying unto me, Write, Blessed are the dead that die in the Lord from henceforth; yea, saith the Spirit, that they may rest from their labours: and their works do follow them.” The preacher pointed out the prominent marks which indicate the character referred to — he that is in the Lord; and then remarked, that blessedness was predicted of him who sustained this relation in life and in death. The nature of this blessedness was a second topic — a blessedness in union with Christ; a blessedness in dying while thus united with the living head; a blessed rest after all the toils of life, and in the full enjoyment of heaven, whither every good work followed the believer, and received its gracious reward. The beautiful and appropriate theme was treated in the most practical manner, with much earnestness and feeling; and there appeared to be but one impression among the auditors of the entire fitness both of the subject and its treatment to the solemn occasion. It was just such a sermon as should be preached on a funeral occasion, and we doubt not, that the deceased, could he have heard it, would have expressed his approbation. After the sermon proper, the preacher read an extract of a letter which he had received from one of the Professors in the Seminary a few days previous to the death of Dr. Alexander, in which it was stated, as the twice repeated injunction of the deceased, that the funeral sermon should contain no delineation of his character and no eulogy. This inhibition, so much in keeping with his general character, was in fact his eulogy. It was so felt to be by the audience, although the preacher must have felt embarrassed by a restriction which precluded him from expatiating in so fruitful a field. He confined himself accordingly to a few historical details.

“After the religious services in the church,” says a contemporary account, “the body was borne by ministers of the Gospel to its burial. The arrangements for the procession had been made with great skill, and the whole was conducted without the slightest confusion. It was one of the most impressive spectacles we have ever seen. In the middle of the broad street fronting the College and Church, the students of the College, with their Professors, amounting to more than two hundred and fifty, walked four abreast; then followed the Synod of New Jersey and clergy from the neighbouring cities and towns, numbering more than one hundred clergymen; then the corpse, borne by members of the Presbytery of New Brunswick, and accompanied by the sons of the deceased; these were followed by the students in the Theological Seminary, with the Directors, amounting to about one hundred and forty, together with citizens. There were no females in the procession, although many were in attendance at the church.

“The numerous cortege formed an extended circle around the grave, and after the body was deposited, the audience were briefly addressed by Rev. Dr. Magie of Elizabethtown. His remarks were most happily conceived, and uttered in silvery and tremulous tones. In speaking of depositing all that was mortal of this good and great man in the silent tomb, of the many evidences of usefulness he had left behind him, and of the halo of light which the doctrine of the resurrection shed upon the grave, he with difficulty commanded his feelings. Had it not been for this self-imposed restraint, he could have dissolved the large audience in tears. One of the most striking features of the solemn ceremonial was the six sons of the deceased, three of them in the ministry, standing side by side on the margin of that grave which held the mortal part of their venerated parent, to whose instructions and example they were so deeply indebted. It was a funeral never to be forgotten. It was a funeral without gloom, which bore the thoughts quite to the verge of heaven. The light of the resurrection and of immortality seemed to dispel the shades of death and the grave, and the spectators of the scene could say, and no doubt did say, c Let me die the death of the righteous, and let my last end be like his,” The closing prayer was offered by the Rev. Dr. Plumer.

We must be permitted to add, that the brief address of Dr. Magie, at the grave, was eminently simple, graceful and pathetic. The throng had become great, but they now formed a hollow square, the students of the Seminary on the west, the College students on the east, the Synod on the north, and the citizens on the south. The sun of a match-

40 less autumnal day was just going down, as the beloved deposit was lowered into the earth which contains the relics of Burr, Edwards, Davies, Witherspoon, Smith, Green and Miller. Dr. Magie broke the silence by words something like

these:

“There is the end of eighty years — of sixty years of

faithful service in the Christian ministry — of forty years of

eminence in our highest institution of sacred learning. That

place looks cold, and dark and gloomy to lay such a man in;

but it is just as good a place as that in which his Master

rested. The dust we lay here is precious. It has been the

dwelling-place of an immortal soul — it has been the temple

of the Holy Ghost.” A few other touching words were

spoken.

It would be difficult, and might even seem invidious, to single out any from the numerous discourses which were delivered from the pulpits of his pupils and other friends, in every part of the country. To some of these we may be indebted for a few corroborative testimonials, in another place. The same remark applies with less force to the acts of public bodies. Several of these, on account of statements which they contain, deserve to be perpetuated.

The Synod of New Jersey, being on the very spot, naturally took the lead in expressions of filial respect.

EXTRACT FROM THE MINUTES OF THE SYNOD OF NEW JERSEY, IN SESSION AT PRINCETON, N. J., OCT. 22d, 1851.

“The Committee appointed to bring in a paper expressive of the views of the Synod, with reference to the death of the Kev. Archibald Alexander, D. D., made the following report, which was adopted and ordered to be published in the New- York Observer.

“Since the Synod opened its sessions in this place, God in his wise and holy Providence has seen fit to take the Rev. Archibald Alexander, D. D., to himself, in the eightieth year of his age.

“This event has been preceded by an illness of a few weeks, during which the venerable man gradually declined, until about six o’clock this morning, he sweetly fell asleep in Jesus, and was gathered in as a shock of corn fully ripe. His departure was so gentle, and attended by so entire an absence of distress of any sort, that the family were scarcely able to fix upon the precise moment when the spirit was released, and went up to hear the plaudit, — f Well done good and faithful servant, thou has been faithful over a few things, I will make thee ruler over many things: enter thou in to the joy of thy Lord/

“This is not the time for a sketch, however brief, of the life and character of one who occupied so elevated a position, and had been so eminently useful in our beloved Church. Nothing more can be done than simply to say that the circumstances connected with the death of Dr. Alexander — a death, in all respects so befitting his previous life — ought to be regarded by the members of this Synod, as highly instructive and impressive. It has occurred during the regular sittings of our body, and while a large number of his brethren and former pupils were assembled to hear the first tidings of its announcement, and make arrangements to attend the honoured dust to its resting-place in the grave. It was a meeting of which the deceased himself spoke with tender interest; and which it is hoped may become memorable for the happy influence produced upon many hearts.

“Dr. Alexander was the first Professor in the Theological Seminary in this town, and in the bosom of our Synod. This office he was permitted by the favour of the Great Head of the church to fill with distinguished credit to himself, and with equal benefit to others, for upwards of thirty-nine years. Placed over the Institution in its infancy, he had the satisfaction of seeing it increase in numbers and usefulness, until it has become a blessing to the land and to the world. A large proportion of all the clerical members of this Synod had the privilege of sitting at his feet and drinking in instruction from those lips which are now sealed in death. Whatever of influence many of us have gained, or power of doing good we have exerted, are due very much, under God, to the labours and prayers of this distinguished Professor.

“A year ago Dr. Alexander was with us in the meetings of our Synod, to cheer us by his presence, and aid us with his counsels. Never shall we forget the address which he delivered on the evening of our Devotional Exercises, and which, as many at the time remarked, was characterized by almost all the vigour and unction of his earlier days. We listened to him with mingled emotions of delight and sorrow — delight that we could once more listen to the well-known voice — and sorrow that we should probably see his face no more. This was evidently his own anticipation, and so the event has proved.

“The death of Dr. Alexander will reach the secret place of tears, in multitudes of different and distant parts of our land. Missionaries in China, India, Africa, and the Islands of the Sea, will receive the intelligence and cry, My father, my father, the chariot of Israel and the horsemen thereof! Good men here and there will call to mind his venerable appearance, and bless God for giving to the Church such a minister.

“When such a Prince and Great One falls in Israel, it is proper for devout men to carry him to his grave, and make great lamentation over him. Grieve for him we cannot — we dare not, but surely we may grieve for ourselves and for the rising ministry. When we reflect upon his long and useful life as an ambassador for Christ, begun when he was but nineteen years of age, and extending through a period of more than sixty years, all spent in successful efforts to build up the kingdom of the Kedeemer among men, and retaining its mild and genial lustre to the last, and add to this the sweet serenity of the closing scene, we feel constrained to unite in devout thanksgiving to the King of Zion. We bless God for such a life, and with equal warmth would we bless God for such a death.

“In this our departed father was pre-eminent. He followed his pupils when they went forth to their work, and kept himself acquainted with all their trials and successes. He could tell where they were, and how they were.

“Our beloved Seminary is bereaved, and though sadness fills our own hearts, we cannot do otherwise than tender our affectionate sympathies to the Professors that remain.

Within two short years, Dr. Miller and Dr. Alexander have gone down to the grave. United pleasantly together in a long and honourable life, in death they are not much divided. May the spirit of Elijah rest on Elisha! But all is not lost. We have still brethren beloved to conduct the studies of our Samuels and Timothys; above all we have the mercy and the faithfulness of a covenant keeping God to confide in. It is still permitted us to say, The Lord liveth, and blessed be our Rock, and let the God of our salvation be exalted.

“Attest, R. K. Rodgers,

“Stated Clerk of the Synod of New Jersey.”

It is a truly pleasing reflection to those who are most nearly concerned, that the party divisions of our Presbyterian body seemed to have lost all such influence as could prevent a hearty condolence in those who fell into the other branch of the Church. No public testimonial was therefore more grateful than that of the New School Synod of New- York and New Jersey; concerning which we borrow from a journal of the time as follows:

“Bloomfield, Thursday, Oct. 23d

“At the close of the public services in the Synod last evening, an announcement was made from the pulpit of the death of the venerable Dr. Alexander, and the concluding prayer was offered with special reference to the fact that so great and good a man had fallen in Israel. This morning at the prayer meeting the subject was again renewed. The moderator led in prayer in reference to it, and various touching and interesting statements were made by Dr. Cox, the

Rev. John N. Lewis, Dr. Campbell, &c., as to Dr. Alexander’s literary and theological history. Afterwards a committee consisting of the Rev. J. F. Stearns, D. D., T. H. Skinner, D. D., A. H. Campbell, D. D., were appointed to draft appropriate resolutions. Among other circumstances that showed the high estimate in which the deceased was held, we noticed his likeness which had been hung up in the Synod’s place of meeting, where all could refresh their recollections of one so dear in life, and so lamented in death. A meeting was also called of all the members of the Synod, who had been his pupils in the Seminary.”

The resolutions were these:

“Resolved, That we have heard with profound sorrow, not unmingled with grateful praise, of the peaceful, saint-like death of the venerable Dr. Alexander.

Besolved, That the rare constellation of excellencies which met and blended in the life and character of this eminent servant of God; his child-like simplicity, warm-hearted piety, rich religious experience, fervid Christian eloquence, together with a sound practical judgment, fine natural endowments, accomplished scholarship, and fidelity and perseverance in the discharge of every duty, conspired to make him one of the highest ornaments which have adorned the Church of Christ in our country. The cause of Theological Education, to which his ripest years were devoted, found in him one of its most active and successful promoters; and the Christian Ministry, especially of the Presbyterian Church, is under an inestimable and lasting obligation to his truly apostolic service and example.

“Resolved, That in this affecting dispensation of Divine Providence, we recognize a call to new fidelity and watchfulness in the service of Christ, and devoutly pray that the Great Head of the Church would make it a means of spiritual blessings, not only to ourselves but to the school of the Prophets, so highly favoured of God in commencing its existence under the guidance of such a teacher, and to the whole Presbyterian family throughout the land, to whom in common his memory will ever be fragrant.

“Resolved, That we tender our affectionate sympathy to the bereaved family of the deceased, and would crave the privilege to mingle our tears as at the grave of a father.

“John K Lewis, Stated Clerk.”

From his native State the tribute of respect was warm and significant. In communicating it, the Rev. Dr. McFarland, the Stated Clerk, uses the following language: “I feel as though I ought to embrace the occasion to say a few words for myself. I doubt whether any, out of the family connection, feel the death of your beloved father more deeply than I do. There was no man on earth for whom I felt such love. Ever since I knew him, he has been my counsellor in all the important changes of my life. I felt unbounded confidence in the soundness of his judgment, and he always took a great interest in my affairs.

“I felt under obligations to him in common with others for his invaluable instructions; but when I was associated with him, I enjoyed his personal friendship to a degree which I had no reason to expect, and of which he gave me many substantial proofs, and I regard it as one of the richest blessings of my life. I will thank you to convey to my beloved friend, your mother, the assurance of the sympathies of a heart that feels bereaved in some humble measure like her own. God grant her the abundant consolations of his grace. Please also to present my kind sympathies to your sister and to your brothers.”

“The Synod of Virginia in Session at Norfolk, Va., y November 1st, 1851. $

“It having pleased the Great Head of the Church to remove by death, on the 22d ult., the venerable and reverend Dr. Archibald Alexander, from his long and useful labours on earth to his reward in heaven: this Synod, in whose bounds he had been born and reared, and of which, during the early part of his ministry, he had been a valued member, feel themselves called upon to testify their affectionate remembrance of his great excellence as a faithful servant of Jesus Christ; and to record on their Minutes the mournful bereavement which the whole Church, and this Synod in particular, feel, in the death of so eminent and useful a minister of Christ. His character as a faithful and successful preacher of the Gospel for more than half a century, and his eminent services as a teacher of Theology in the Princeton Seminary, from its foundation till his death, are known to the entire Church of Christ in our own country, and to most of the Evangelical Churches in Europe.

“‘The righteous shall flourish like the palm tree; he shall grow like a cedar in Lebanon. Those that be planted in the house of the Lord, shall flourish in the courts of our

God. They shall still bring forth fruit in old age; they shall be fat and flourishing: to show that the Lord is upright; he is my rock, and there is no unrighteousness in him.’

“Kesolved, That the Stated Clerk of Synod transmit to the family of Dr. Alexander a copy of this record, with the assurance of the tender sympathy of Synod in their affliction.

“The foregoing is a true extract from the minutes of

Synod.

“Fkancis McFarland, Stated Clerk.

“To the family of the late Dr. A. Alexander.”

From a great number of similar papers we shall make no further selections; for however gratifying to bereaved friends, they could scarcely be expected to command the interest of the general reader. We may however add a few passages from a speech of the Kev. Wm. H. Foote, D. D., in the Synod of Virginia, towards the close of a discussion on the Union Theological Seminary. In a highly imaginative strain, he represents the Virginia Church as demanding her dead from other parts of the land, and as bringing them back with funereal pomp. We are constrained to content ourself with a newspaper report:

“Permit me to say a few words on this subject of the Union Theological Seminary; and with your permission I will give the thoughts that passed through my excited mind last night.

“It seemed to me, Moderator — that the discussion was going on — and that you said to the Synod, you had an argument for the Seminary that must be decisive, and bade us follow you. And away you led us all, in solemn silence, to the graveyard in Princeton, New Jersey; and knocking at the gate, demanded of those assembling, some of the precious dust lying there.

“And first you said, we must have Samuel Davies, for he was the apostle of Virginia. They claimed him as President of Nassau Hall. You said he ought to rest with the church of his founding; that Nassau Hall had seen him ascend to heaven, and that was the full amount of her claim; — his dust was ours. And you took him.

“Next, you said, you must have Samuel Stanhope Smith. They murmured. But you said — his latest exultation in life was, that he laid the foundation of Hampden Sidney College; and where should the founder lie, but with the college of his creation, and his joy? And you took him.

“Then you said they might have undisputed Burr, and at his feet his great, his erring, and we believe his repenting son; and the great Edwards, if the New Englanders were content; and they might rejoice in the lovely Finley, and the venerable Witherspoon; and they might glory in Miller, and Maclean, and the younger professors; — but we must have Alexander, have him flesh and bones, for he was ours; we had loaned him, but never yielded him — always asserting our claim, and calling him to come home. They resisted. But you said Virginia must and would have her son; he had been President of Hampden Sidney College; had lived, and died a lover of his native State, And you took him.

“As we entered your native county, Moderator, you told the excited citizens that you had got the giants of the last generation. And at old Cumberland, you said we must pause for the night, and there as we talked over the revivals after revivals for a hundred years, the spirits of the dead mingled with us, and the eternal world brooded on us, and unseen companies hailed Davies and the Smiths and Lacy and Alexander and Hoge, God’s ministers for their salvation.

“In the morning we passed on; and as we went by Willington the Mortons brought out the bones of their, and our beloved Rice, and joined the procession. On by the College and the Seminary you led an immense host — and then we met Briery and Buffalo and Cub Creek, with Lyle and Read, and on we slowly moved amidst an immense host gathered from the Potomac and the Shenandoah and the James and the Appomatox and the Roanoke, countless as the sands of the sea, bowing their heads as we laid these servants of the Church on the little cemetery hill. There they lay, Davies, and Smith the elder, and Smith the younger, and Graham and Lacy, and Hoge and Lyle, and Rice and Graham the younger, and Read and Alexander.

“Pointing to the College and the Seminary, you said these are the nurseries of the Church, the nurseries of the State. And all said, Amen.

“Our procession had been rapid, but time pursued on more rapidly. We all seemed to pass away. Generations came and generations went, like thoughts, like the visions of the night, visions full of brightness and glory and Gospel success. As the course rolled on, there came upon the stage some like Davies, fit to stand for the Gospei in perilous times, laying the foundation of churches, whose lips were touched with a live coal from God’s altar; some like S. S. Smith, majestic, grand, the father of colleges; some like J. B. Smith, wonderful in revivals and raising ministers of the Gospel; some like Lacy strode over the earth, blowing long and loud the silver trumpet; and some like the classic Lyle and the kind-hearted Kead, and the gentlemanly Blythe, who preached on the frontiers. Then came out some meek wise men like Hoge, with whom it was impossible to contend. Now and then came one like Rice, with a warm heart refined by grace, that could plan for a generation, and be spent for God, and die from exhaustion; and some like Alexander, fit to mould a host of ministers of the Gospel; and some like Speece, with the kind heart and gigantic mind, that walked like Samson with the gates of Gaza; and here and there a mighty reasoner, with a heart warmer than his reason was strong, came like Baxter to aid the Church in her perplexities. Many came like Le Grand, sweet and powerful in persuasion; earnest like Calhoon and Mitchell and Hill, and thrilling in eloquence like Turner.

“We, the Synod, seemed to stand on the mount of observation, and look over all this. And as the multitudes followed these servants of God unto glory, your Moderator said, ( Brethren, do you regret that you stood by the Seminary in her low estate? ‘No man answered. You then asked — Brethren, what do you say? And as with one voice, all cried, Glory to God in the highest.”

Testimonials in the journals of the day and in public discourses were still more numerous. From a few of these we shall make extracts, not so much for the eulogy which they may comprise, as because they contain facts and traits of character, which are best given in the words of their respective authors. Many who moved altogether in worldly circles remembered the preacher of their youthful days. Thus the editor of the New- York Evening Post, in a graceful paragraph, expresses himself:

“His sermons and essays were always remarkable for their freshness and simplicity, combined with great learning and force. He was, every where that he preached, a great favourite with his hearers, as much, perhaps, on account of his homely and familiar methods of illustration, as of his genuine pathos and power. Among the students at Nassau Hall, we remember, where going to chapel on Sundays was not the most popular and attractive occupation in which they engaged, those Sundays were an exception when it was announced that old Dr. Alexander was likely to preach. The chapel was then crowded, not only with the members of the College, but with people from the village. It was never a burden, but always a treat, even to the young, to listen to the gentle and warm-hearted old man, as he expounded, in language of extreme simplicity, the profoundest doctrines of his faith, or enforced the duties of morality in a racy and idiomatic style, which did not disdain at times the aids of a certain caustic but graceful humour. Many anecdotes are told of his touches in this last respect, but we cannot recall any at this time. - Dr. Alexander was a man of thorough integrity and great singleness of heart, and was much endeared to his pupils and acquaintances as well as to his friends. His habits were entirely those of the student, and he seldom mingled in general society; but when he did, his conversation was pointed and vivacious. The stores of learning which he had accumulated did not interfere with the more homely lore of anecdote and personal reminiscences. Nor did the books in his head, as Kobert Hall said of Dr. Kippis, keep his brain from moving. His mind was particularly active and elastic, and he always had something new to say. His death will cause a great loss to his Church, which will, doubtless, adopt some appropriate method of commemorating his long and varied services.”

From a memorial by the Rev. Cortlandt Van Rensselaer, D. D., we glean passages, which must suffer by losing their connection:

“On October 1st, 1791, he was licensed to preach the Gospel, at the age of nineteen. There was a tradition that he was very reluctant to assume the responsibilities of the ministerial office at so early an age; but Mr. Graham and others of the Presbytery, were so earnest in favour of the measure, that his own scruples were overcome. His trial sermon before the Presbytery, the text having been given, as is said, by Mr. Graham, was, ( But the Lord said unto me, Say not, I am a child: for thou shalt go to all that I shall send thee, and whatsoever I command thee thou shalt speak, — Jer. i. 7.

“Mr. Graham was sitting in the pulpit watching the progress of the sermon with intense interest, and from the time the young preacher, who was his favourite pupil, began to warm in his subject until the close, the old prophet’s face was bathed in tears. During the recess of the Presbytery, Mr. Graham remarked to a little circle in the grove, with much emotion, as follows: 1 1 have prayed most earnestly to God for the conversion of that young man, and I have lived to see it. And I have prayed earnestly that he might become a minister of the Gospel; I have lived to be his instructor in theology, and he will soon be licensed to preach. I am now satisfied to leave the world at any time, for I feel that I have not lived altogether in vain/

“In giving a brief summary of Dr. Alexander’s traits of character, we begin with his piety, which was earnest, simple-hearted, equable, transparent, commanding in influence, constantly cultivated, predominating through life and sustaining to its end. His peculiar piety was the basis of all his excellence. His mental endowments were marked by a shrewd vigour, an ability of concentration, and a ready facility for general investigations. His sagacity was quick-sighted as his eye; his memory was uncommonly retentive; his powers of association and of logical suggestion rapid, fertile, and available at all times. His learning was various rather than pre-eminently deep; but it was not superficial, although extended in its range of topics; it was the learning of a great philosopher rather than of an immured student, prejudiced to any particular department; it was learning so steady in its acquisitions that the Hebrew, Greek and Latin were regular studies, and so precise and familiar, that his devotional singing was in the language of the sweet psalmist of Israel. His enterprise was unfailing even at fourscore years. His motto was to c spend and be spent; ’ he was active in making plans for usefulness, in maturing their execution and in developing the co-operation of others. Unlike old men, who are often faint-hearted for work, and who commonly think that their own day is over, he was a youth down to old age, and as alert, to all appearance, as ever. This is no exaggeration. When the Assembly assigned to him, last May, the subject of Church Government — which he had never particularly attended to — he commenced the investigations necessary to a course of instruction, with an ardour and vivacity rarely seen in a special devotee to that department. At our last visit, paid to the venerable man at his own request, he stated that he had a plan for establishing a Presbyterian Normal School in some town in New Jersey, and he thought that the Board of Education ought to take immediate measures to secure the object. The simplicity of his character and manners gave a charm to his presence. It was delightful to see greatness without guile, and condescension blending with the authority of an august and venerable mien. His manners reminded us of our great Chief Justice Marshall — plain, characteristic; the comparatively unimportant things which a man of sense never overvalues. His knowledge of human nature, his power of casuistry, his searching methods of applying truth, these were the exhibitions of a common sense which gave to the preacher, the professor, and the man, a sceptre of dominion. His social habits were generally free and unreserved. When in health and before friends, he had plenty of anecdote, real wit, colloquial vivacity, and at times a way of pleasant, hearty laugh-

41 ter, which was extremely and delightfully contagious. He knew, however, how to maintain his personal rights; and sometimes his i flashes of silence, as Sydney Smith calls them, were awful. The students had access to his study at all hours; the old gentleman was rarely out; his well-known Come in’ has welcomed visitors thousands of times; he made it a point to give up every thing for their accommodation; and if they wanted advice he gave it; and they knew when it was time to go.”

The Rev. John Hall, D. D., of Trenton, was from early childhood an object of Dr. Alexander’s particular regard; and from this intimacy he has been able to strike off somewhat happily a few traits which might have escaped a more distant observer.

“In thus casting a glance over the prominence of Dr. Alexander’s public life, and recalling the wide-spread notoriety of his name in our own and other churches, it is a most profitable fact to state in connection with such a review, that gathering up the testimony of all these classes of observers, his walk has been that of faith. From youth to old age his course has been that of consistent piety. His life has been that of those who walk as they have the apostles for an example. And the illustration, the instructive point of all this, strikes me as consisting, in showing us that the essence, the great quality of the true life of faith, lies now, as it ever has done, in a simple following of what is true and right in the sight of God. The ignorant, the weak-minded, may have a religious faith which is little more than credulity, an uninformed, undiscriminating confidence in what they have received by education or tradition; tney may pass through their obscure and unobserved lives, from the cradle to the grave without a reproach, because their very circumstances have protected them: but where we see a man of the strongest and most sagacious order of intellect, a man of solid learning, and such extensive and varied knowledge, as to be proverbial for the treasures of his memory; — a man whose daily reading was in Hebrew, and Greek, and Latin, — a man who was at home in the mental sciences, and whose inquisitive mind penetrated into all kinds of knowledge, so as to be ready on every subject of conversation; when we see a man of this description, living, conversing, preaching, instructing, writing, with the same simplicity, and directness, and perseverance of faith as the obscurest and most illiterate of God’s people, — when this faith becomes the pervading spirit and grand characteristic of the whole man, so as to modify and shape every other quality of his intellect and affections, — then we see that this was his true greatness — this was after all what made him so extraordinary a character. And the practical benefit of marking such a man is, to make us know that whilst the best grade of piety may subsist with the highest mental endowments and acquirements, as well as with the humblest, yet, after all, the true ensample of the piety of apostles and all saints lies in their simple credence of Divine truth, and a simple conformity of common life to Divine precepts.

“This trait was manifest in every part of his character. We must all remember that notwithstanding the great weight that has attached to the opinions of Dr. Alexander, not mere-

ly out of personal deference to him, but by the convictions which the grounds for his judgments produced, yet all this power was the result of this very singleness and simplicity of his character. He used no management; he depended on no secret plans; he obtruded no opinions; he neither flattered nor threatened; he was silent and reserved, rather than forward; he listened with composure to the most opposite sentiments, and gave his own as if he were the last and least; but after him there was seldom any to rise; his free, direct, plain-spoken words came like the dispassionate verdict of a mind that had considered the point in all its lights, and that verdict seldom failed to secure concurrence.” This is true Christian power; a power, not of name or station, but of character and sound judgment; therefore one that can be marked as an ensample; — a power resulting from the simplicity of an intelligent faith, a habit of perpetual reference to the Bible standard, and accompanied by unaffected modesty and humility. It was one of the remarkable qualities of this beloved man, that his humility continued unaffected by all the deference with which he was regarded. When he was at the age of nineteen licensed to preach, the Presbytery assigned him as the text for his trial sermon, Jeremiah i. 7; c But the Lord said unto me, Say not I am a child; for thou shalt go to all that I shall send thee, and whatsoever I command thee, thou shalt speak, The manuscript of that sermon is extant, and it is highly characteristic of the whole life that followed that beginning, to find that though the selection of the text was so well calculated, and probably designed, to draw out some allusions to the candidate’s youth, not a word of reference is made to himself. From that day onward we should search in vain, in his discourses, speeches, writings, or conversation, for egotistical mention of himself, or in the history of his life, for any seeking of publicity, or of self-advancement. He sought nothing. He kept himself waiting upon Providence. He was always the ( child, to go where the Lord should send him, and speak what He should command. Who ever saw Dr. Alexander putting himself forward in any matter, small or great? Who ever saw him strive for the floor in any ecclesiastical assembly, or aim to be a leader on any question of debate? Who ever found him making himself conspicuous, excepting as his very faithfulness and readiness to do whatever was required of him, made him so? In a word, who ever saw in him any thing like a display of his own influence, or a disposition to employ it in any other way than in the modest expression, in the fewest words and calmest manner, of his own conclusions? In this plain, scriptural, unambitious cast of his religious character and views, we may find the secret of the excellence and universal acceptance of his preaching. For it was one of his apostolic marks, that his preaching was not only intelligible, but attractive to all classes of persons. Simple, direct, discriminating, sensible, aiming at the heart, with a wonderful knowledge of human nature in all its states and attitudes in relation to the truth, it was emphatically true that his speech and preaching were in demonstration of the Spirit and of power. And it deserves to be noted by all ministers and candidates, that one of the chief external means by which Dr. Alexander attained what are often called his inimitable excellencies as a preacher, was his spending several years both after licensure and ordination, in itinerant missionary service, preaching in the humblest and most destitute places, often in the open air, and adapting his language and manner to the minds that needed the plainest kind of instruction. It will be a good day for the ministry and the Church, when the performance of a term of such itinerant service shall be exacted as part of the trials of every probationer before ordination.

“It also deserves to be marked by us all, that from his earliest years as a Christian, he who reached such attainments of piety, was accustomed to pay constant attention to his own personal religion. Upon the details of his practice in this respect, no one can fully enter; for he was remarkable both for the privacy of his own religious exercises, and his avoidance of every thing that bordered upon a relation of what is so sacred and personal, as a Christian’s own self-examination and discipline. But it could not be concealed, that throughout his life, his preaching, his conversation, his favourite reading, were connected with a constant devotedness of his mind to personal piety, whilst the seasons of devout abstraction, and sometimes the involuntary changes of his countenance and movements of his hands, evinced fixed habits of spiritual communion, and ejaculatory prayer.

“Christians, and especially clergymen, of strong intellect, of studious habits, of scholastic attainments, often find their professional pursuits so absorbing to their taste, as to become their great temptation. They bury themselves in books — exhaust their minds in researches, which though they may be theological in their relations, are purely intellectual in their process. But I think no one who intimately knew Dr. Alexander, can think otherwise, than that profoundly as he studied the range of theological and philosophical science, his heart was in the Bible, and in experimental religion; that his musings were not on the speculative theories of his own, or other men’s minds, but on the revelations of the Divine Spirit, and the actual workings of the human heart, in its relations to God and inspired truth. One strikingproof of the habitual culture of his own heart was, that it never seemed to cost him an effort, or produce a reaction, to come to the most serious and spiritual subjects or duties. He was not serious by turns or on occasions; but could pass interchangeably from common to sacred topics, in that equable tone and manner which showed that the levities of time and of sense were habitually subordinate with him to the realities of Divine things. At the furthest possible remove from sanctimoniousness, or assumed seriousness — easily moved to the greatest enjoyment of cheerfulness, highly sensitive even to whatever is amusing or ludicrous, he never lost his dignity, nor gave a moment’s encouragement to a hilarity inconsistent with Christian gravity. No one ever heard from his lips, in his most cheerful moments, what might not be properly repeated; no one dared to say in his presence aught that bordered on irreverence for sacred language or sacred objects; no one ever heard from him, when treating of sacred things, a sentence intended to create amusement, or attempting to excuse a jest under the plea of eccentricity. The substratum of godliness was too deep and firm, to allow of vagaries ot this kind, which have too often disgraced eminent and even good men. In fact, I may here say, that whilst some of the best men have had foibles or peculiarities, which have in some degree detracted from the completeness or symmetry of their character, and disturbed the pleasure of our associations with their memory, I can, after the knowledge of a lifetime, recall no such exception as attaching to the characteristics of our departed father.”

From a leading article in the “Presbyterian,” which we ascribe to our friend the Reverend Dr. Engles, we take these well-considered paragraphs:

“In contemplating, for instance, such a character as that of the late venerable Dr. Alexander, we can sum up in few words the historical incidents of his life. The young missionary in Virginia, the youthful President of a literary institution, the faithful city pastor, the Professor of Theology for forty years, and then the tranquil death of the aged Christian; and yet related to all these positions there is a more retired, but living history, an every day history, which marks the progress in learning, the application of talents for the public benefit, the development of social qualities, and the maturing of Christian graces, which conspired in the formation of a character at once distinguished, beloved, and eminently useful. During the eighty years which he lived, how many of his contemporaries ambitiously struggled to reach a lofty eminence in public estimation as scholars, politicians, and soldiers, who have gone down to the grave disappointed and defeated, or convinced that their lives have been misapplied in pursuing a phantom! He, on the contrary, whose ambition was to be good and do good, has tranquillydescended to the grave, full of thankfulness for God’s mercies, gladdened by the prospects of a glorious immortality, and leaving behind him a precious memory, embalmed in many hearts.

“It would be a comparative happiness to many dying sinners to believe that the influence which, during life, they have exerted by word and example, should be buried with them; but not so with him. Modest and unpretending as he was, he might well be cheered by the reflection that his influence would live when he was dead. Indeed, such an example should ever live, and in succeeding generations should be held up for imitation, especially to young men who may fill the ranks of the ministry. We remember Dr. Alexander from the days of our boyhood, and although not as well qualified to delineate his character as others, who, from position, have enjoyed more intimate intercourse with him, we may be permitted to record our impressions.

“No one acquainted with this venerable man, could for a moment suspect that his qualifications fell short of any station in which he suffered himself to be placed. He dignified the station — not the station him. It was his settled aim and purpose to meet every exigency to which he was called. His early training adapted him to study, and he was a student all his life, and with a closeness of application which few constitutions could endure. Few men could appropriate as many hours in the day to study without exercise and with less injury to the physical system. In mere scholastic learning he may have been surpassed by others; those who succeed him may, with the increased facilities of acquiring critical skill in languages, excel him in this respect; but in solid learning, in his department, derived from voluminous reading, discriminating judgment, practical and strong sense, and devout meditation and prayer, it would be difficult to surpass him. He never encumbered himself with useless learning. He laboured in the mine in search of the pure ore, not for the purpose of personal embellishment, but of converting it into useful currency. We have never known a man more thoroughly practical in this respect. What he learned when a pastor, he freely distributed among his people with an anxious aim to enlighten their minds and meet their varied spiritual wants; what he learned as a professor, he as anxiously moulded into shape, in his lectures, to direct the training of young ministers for their arduous work; and in his published works it was his prominent object to convince the judgment and direct the heart in the search of saving truth. Even the weekly periodicals, and our own perhaps most favoured in this respect, bore evidence of this practical feature of his character, in the brief essays in which the suggestions of a leisure moment were embodied for public use. It was this practicalness which constituted what is generally described as the simplicity of his character. He had an object, whether as a lecturer, preacher, or social companion, and without circumlocution or parade he aimed to accomplish it. That object was to do good and to receive good, and hence his use of the simplest and best adapted means. A quiet, self-possessed manner, unusual urbanity and pleasantry, a manifested interest in what he was engaged in, plain Saxon English, with no attempt at rhetorical ornament, were leading characteristics. Hence he never spoke without finding ready listeners. They knew he had something to communicate, which it would be profitable for them to learn, and they were at once prepossessed by the ease and familiarity of his method, which was so far removed from the pretence and affected dignity of the teacher.

“His lectures, sermons, and conversations were rich in thought, and yet so naturally expressed, that any one might conclude that it would not be difficult for them to have the same thoughts, and express them in the same language, until the trial should convince them to the contrary. This same practical trait of character made Dr. Alexander always accessible. Onerous as were his duties, his study was generally open, and his students were accustomed to resort to him as a wise and friendly counsellor. Not only did he listen patiently and advise kindly, but generally managed to extract some useful information from his visitors, which he made available. He not only thus obtained great insight into character, and into the various phases of religious experience, but a vast fund of information respecting the wants, prospects, and general condition of the Church in all sections of the country. Perhaps no man in the Church had so minute an acquaintance with its present history, or exerted himself more effectually to provide for its wants and promote its welfare.

“Although he was not exempt from infirmities of the flesh, yet we doubt whether he ever, knowingly, devised a plan for gaining popularity. It came without seeking. His natural traits, greatly improved under the cultivation of grace, were exactly adapted to win the good opinion of all. Extensive knowledge, shrewd and discriminating sense, kind and genial feeling, sympathy with all that was good, could not but find access to many hearts; and if we ask the sixteen hundred ministers still living, out of the eighteen hundred and forty who have sat at his feet as pupils, they will bear a uniform testimony of affection for his worth. They venerated and loved him.”

The Kev. Nicholas Murray, D. D., thus strikingly confirms the same estimate, in a contribution made by him to the columns of the New- York Observer; from which we have room only for extracts.” The true idea of Dr. Archibald Alexander must be ever confined to those who knew him, and who were capable of appreciating his character. And that idea even with such, like the idea of the true, or the beautiful, is more easily felt than expressed. You ask me to give you my idea of him. It is impossible for me to transfer it to paper, just as it lies enshrined in my own mind; but for the sake of those who never saw or knew him, and who may desire a portrait of the man, I will make the attempt to comply with your request.

“My first sight of the man and interview with him, was in the month of November, 1826. My first feeling was that

of disappointment Having just

passed from under the tuition of Dr. Griffin, the contrast between my past and future teacher was too great not to be felt at the moment. He placed me, however, by his kind, cordial manner, soon at ease; and as he was reading my intraductions and papers, I sought, as well as I could, to read his person and countenance. I soon concluded that his broad and strongly marked forehead, his dark and penetrating eye, his brief but comprehensive questions, his rapid conceptions, meant something; and I left his room deeply interested and impressed by the interview. On the next Sabbath, in the afternoon, I heard him for the first time preach in the Oratory of the Seminary. He spoke sitting in his chair. He read a passage of Scripture, and then, as was his manner, raising his spectacles from his eyes to his head, he commenced talking. His voice was peculiar, and his manner — his matter was simple. As he progressed I became interested, absorbed. Although seated in the middle of the room and in the midst of students, I thought he was preaching to me, and revealing the very secrets of my heart. And as his penetrating eye glanced from seat to seat, I instinctively shrunk behind the person that sat before me, in order to avoid his reading me through and through. That first sermon I have never forgotten. As a preacher to the conscience and to the experience of men, I have never known or read of his superior. Whilst under his instructions my esteem grew into respect, my respect into love, and my love into admiration of the man; and my intercourse with him in subsequent years, on more equal terms, and on a wider platform than that of a student, has left the impression on my heart, that in all the elements of true greatness, the Church of Christ has had but few such ministers.

“He was a child of nature in all his habits; in his modes of thought, in his manner of expression, in his tones of voice, in his gestures, in his keen wit, in his occasional sarcasms, in his very laugh, he was perfectly natural. It would seem as if the idea of doing a thing genteelly, or according to rule, or for effect, was never before him. This was one of the highest charms of his character. He was a man of godly sincerity. He had no concealed ends — no hidden plans to produce future results. He manifested all that he felt; in an intercourse with him, of more or less frequency, for twenty-five years, some of which was confidential, I have never known him to advocate policy. His was the most simple-hearted piety. He read the Bible like a child, and he exercised a simple faith in all it taught and promised. There was no effort to explain away its doctrines, or to modify its principles by the teachings of philosophy falsely so called. He was a metaphysician; and yet all the metaphysics and German mysticism upon earth weighed not a feather with him against one simple text of Scripture fairly interpreted. His mind and heart were imbued with Divine truth, and his experience of its power was rich and ripe. He had a sympathizing heart. No person ever resorted to him in vain for counsel or aid. He entered into your circumstances and feelings, and soon felt as you felt. Indeed I have known his sympathies produce in him a nervous excitement, so as greatly to interrupt his comfort. He knew when to speak and when to be silent. It was in the month of January, 1842, he came to my bereaved family to bury one of our children, the second taken from us within a few days. He sat by my side without saying a word for some time. At length breaking the silence, he uttered this memorable expression: CI have not come to comfort you, my friend, the Lord only can comfort you; ’ and again a long silence ensued. After the emotions excited by our first meeting subsided, the conversation became natural, and on his part instructive and greatly comforting. He was a preacher of the rarest excellence. Natural, scriptural, pungent, experimental, and at times overwhelming in his application of truth to the saint and to the sinner. Nor had he lost any of his interest down to old age. The last address I ever heard from him was made to the Synod of New Jersey, at its meeting in Elizabethtown in 1850, and I never heard a better one, or one that more deeply interested his crowded audience. As a professor of Theology he was able, discriminating, sound in the faith, and most ardently attached to the great doctrines of grace; and as a teacher he was as a father to his pupils. Their location, their joys and their sorrows, their failure and successes, seemed all known to him. Their names seemed ever before him, and he never met them but with paternal emotions. His death was just like his life, calm, natural, collected and pleasant. None would have it indeed otherwise. There was no pain of* body, no anxiety of mind, no fears as to the Church. His family was all around him. The Synod of New Jersey was in session. His beloved Seminary was flourishing. f My work, said he, ’ is done, and it is best I should go home, And he went home. The Lord reigneth, let the earth rejoice.”

We are permitted to extract somewhat more largely from a publication of the Kev. Dr. Sprague, of Albany:” I never saw Dr. Alexander till I joined the Princeton Seminary, in the autumn of 1816; though I had heard of him in connection with an interesting incident of a journey, from my early childhood. In the parish of Columbia (formerly Lebanon Crank), Ct., which bordered upon the parish in which I was born, there was an extensive revival of religion about the beginning of this century, and Mr. Brockway, the pastor of the church, had, on one occasion, appointed a lecture at the meeting-house, to be held early in the afternoon. A stranger — as I used to hear the story — entered the house, and was invited by Mr. Brockway to preach; and his preaching was so remarkable, that it has not ceased to be talked about by the old people to this day. All that was known of the preacher was, that he was a Mr. Alexander, from Virginia, who went on his way immediately after the service. The very last time I saw Dr. Alexander, he adverted to the circumstance, apparently with great pleasure, and remarked, that it had been brought to his mind, a short time before, by the Bev. Alfred Wright, missionary among the Choctaws, who told him that he was present and heard the sermon. The Doctor’s version of the story was as follows: He was travelling for his health with Dr. Coffin, now of Tennessee, on horseback; as they stopped for dinner at an inn near the church, they noticed the ringing of the bell, and on inquiry, ascertained that there was to be a lecture. They concluded to attend the service; but as soon as the minister discovered them, he came out of the pulpit and made his way to the pew where they sat, and asked if they were not ministers: and on ascertaining that they were, insisted that one of them should conduct the service. Dr. Alexander said that his clothes were covered with dust, and he was not in a decent state to enter the pulpit, but the old gentleman’s importunities prevailed, and he actually went up and preached. From the traditions still in existence concerning the sermon, and indeed from the testimony of living witnesses, I take for granted, it must have been one of his remarkable efforts. I think he told me the text was, 1 1 am the way/

“The above circumstance, of which I had heard much in my early years, in connection with what I had known at a late period of Dr. Alexander’s reputation, led me to carry to the Seminary very high expectations concerning him. The first time I saw him was on Sunday evening, the day after I arrived, when he performed the stated evening service in the church; Dr. Miller having preached in the morning in the College chapel. He did not go into the pulpit, but took his place, as the professors were then wont to do, at the desk immediately below. When he arose to read the hymn, I confess I was not particularly impressed by his appearance or his manner of reading; and his prayer struck me as being more colloquial than I remembered ever to have heard. When the second singing was over, he rose with his two hands resting upon his little Bible, and his eyes apparently fixed on the cover, though raised as soon as he began to speak, and said in a tone that I cannot describe, though I believe I can still imitate it — c Hitherto hath the Lord helped us, I heard the sermon not without much interest, and not without some disappointments. He was so utterly unlike what I had been accustomed to in New England, and especially the calm, dignified and uniform manner of Dr. Dwight,

42 that I could not feel at once quite reconciled to it; and yet there was a simplicity that I could not but admire, and a directness and earnestness that kept not only me, but every body else wide awake. At the close of the service, I felt rather as if I had been talked to than preached to; but I could not resist the impression that he was the greatest talker I had ever heard.

“I may as well say in this connection all that I have to say of Dr. Alexander’s preaching. I think that during my nearly three years’ residence at Princeton, I never heard him preach more than two written sermons; and in both cases he fell to extemporizing some time before he got through. I recollect also, when he preached before the American Board in Albany, in 1829, though he read closely much the greater part of his sermon, yet he extemporized for the last few minutes, with an almost electrical effect. The truth is that, having been educated in Virginia, and having spent several of the first years of his ministry there, he had accustomed himself entirely to preaching without notes; and hence, he could not even at a later period do full justice to himself in any other way. His sermons were remarkable for the most familiar exhibition of Divine truth, and for a style so simple and transparent, as to be level to the humblest capacity. He was an acute metaphysician, bat he never carried his metaphysics into the pulpit; though he was familiar with Locke, and Keid, and Stewart, and the whole tribe of British and continental philosophers, and in various ways turned his acquaintance with them to good account, yet he was strictly a minister of the Gospel of the grace of God; and the most simple points of Christian doctrine and duty were those on which he loved best to dwell. I should not say after all, that he was, in the technical sense of the word, eminently a doctrinal preacher; that is, he did not preach any thing like a system of theology; nor had he much of the dogmatic form in his sermons, nor was there very much of the distinctive technology of any particular school. In this respect, I imagine he may have been somewhat like Witherspoon, whom Dr. Green represents as having been remarkably free from those modes of expression which would be likely to offend any class of Christians. His sermons partook largely of the experimental, and showed not only a deep acquaintance with the human heart — not only an ability to fathom its depths and explore its labyrinths and expose its deformity, but also to apply the balm of Gilead for the relief and the healing of its various maladies. There was less of apparent method in most of his sermons, than perhaps could have been desired; he seemed to preach not a little from impulse; and there would be many a bold stroke or vivid flash in the course of a sermon which he evidently had not premeditated; but it was after all impossible for such a mind as his to think otherwise than with a good degree of method; and I remember to have been struck with the fact, in looking over the notes I had taken of some of his sermons, in which, at the time of their delivery, I did not detect the semblance of a plan, that there was really a plan in each, and in some instances a striking and beautiful plan too, though evidently intended to be kept in the background. I think he was more inclined to dwell upon the Gospel than upon the law; more disposed to present the attractions of the Cross, than the terrors of Sinai; and perhaps it is fair to say, that his preaching was better adapted to comfort and edify the Christian, than to alarm and convince the sinner. I remember, however, one fearful exception to this remark. A man died in the neighbourhood of Princeton, who had for many years been a scoffing infidel, and his tongue, as he lay in his dying agony, seemed almost blistered with blasphemy. The Doctor was called upon to preach on the occasion, and many of the students — myself among them — knowing the terrible peculiarity of the case, attended the funeral, anxious to know what use he could make of the event. He appeared there with awful solemnity, and evidently deeply affected by the circumstances. His

text was, 1 0 that they were wise, that they understood this, that they would consider their latter end, He described the dying scene of a hardened sinner so vividly, that it seemed like actual vision; and when he came to the fearful moment of the soul’s getting its first glance of the woes of perdition, it seemed almost as if the audience were suppressing a common shriek.

“As his preaching necessarily depended much on the state of his feelings at the time, it was of course very unequal; sometimes being comparatively moderate, and sometimes altogether overpowering. I think the most remarkable sermon that he preached at Princeton, during my connection with the Seminary, was on the text — c Without God in the world, It was a powerful argument against the various forms of atheism; and so grand and appalling were some of his representations, that I well remember to have heard one of the students say, that it wrought upon him so powerfully, that at the close he found it difficult to rise from his seat. Dr. J. H. Kice once told me of a sermon which he heard him preach in Virginia, before he came to the North, which he said was as much superior to any other sermon he ever heard from him, as the best of his other sermons was superior to the preaching of ordinary men. He had engaged to preach a lecture one afternoon at a private house. Just before the sermon was to commence, he told Dr. Rice that he had not got a text, and could not fasten his mind upon any. He walked into the garden a few minutes with his little Bible in his hand, and returned, telling Dr. Rice that he had got a subject on which he believed he could speak. He announced his text — Gal. iv. 7; e Wherefore thou art no more a servant, but a son.’ Dr. Rice said that he perceived immediately that his mind was excited in a very unusual degree; and before he finished his sermon, he actually reeled under the power of his feelings, so that he was very apprehensive that he would fall. He appeared, Dr. Rice said — as he never saw him appear on any other occasion — absolutely overpowered by the truths which he was presenting, and every feature illuminated and glowing with the fire within. He afterwards attempted to speak to Dr. Alexander on the subject; but he only replied, c I know all about it, and immediately gave a different turn to the conversation. It is no disparagement to any of his contemporaries to say that, in his peculiar style of eloquence, he probably had not an equal — certainly not north of Virginia, in his day. The students of the Seminary, from the North as well as the South, always listened to him with admiration, and it was a rare case that any of them missed one of his sermons, except from imperious necessity.

“Dr. Alexander was an uncommonly useful member of a deliberative assembly. He was remarkable not only for never speaking when he had nothing to say, but for always speaking at the most opportune moment. I recollect once to have been present at a meeting of Presbytery, where some involved matter was up for discussion; and after several of the members had seemed to darken counsel by words without knowledge, the Doctor arose, and accomplished in half a dozen sentences that for which several long speeches proved inadequate.

“Dr. Alexander was naturally of a cheerful temperament, though his flow of spirits was not unfrequently interrupted by ill health. During my connection with the Seminary, and I believe for some years after, he was under the complete tyranny of the east wind; insomuch that we used sometimes to look at the vane to determine when we would go to his study. In later years, however, I have understood that he had got the better of that infirmity; and indeed I have had ocular proof of it; for it has so happened that two or three of my last visits to Princeton have been at the time of a good strong east wind, and I have, in each case, found his face beaming with cheerfulness and good will. I have also had much experience of his accommodating and obliging disposition.

“Few men of the last generation have been so careful as

Dr. Alexander in treasuring up important facts in respect either to their contemporaries or predecessors. His knowledge of personal character and history was more extended and minute than that of any man I now think of, with the exception of the late Dr. Pierce. At one time he had serious thoughts of compiling a universal, clerical, biographical dictionary; but the thought occurred to him at’ a late period in life, so that he did nothing more than gather a few materials which, some time before his death, he committed to another hand. He had made considerable progress, some years ago, in writing the biographies of the Alumni of Princeton College; but whether he has continued the work since that time I know not.

“Dr. Alexander, though tenacious of his own opinion, was disposed to exercise all due candour towards his fellow-men. The fact that an individual differed from him ever so widely, was no reason why he would deny to him any thing that he could reasonably claim. I remember, for instance, his paying a tribute to Dr. Channing’s fine powers, after reading his Dudleian Lecture, which would have satisfied the most ardent of Dr. Channing’s admirers. I recollect also his receiving Dr. Kirkland, who made a short visit to Princeton, with all the respect and hospitality due to his distinguished character and station. Since the division of the General Assembly, I have heard, I know not know many of our New School brethren, speak of the whole-souled and generous welcome which they had received from him. In holding a friendly intercourse even with those whom he regarded as having departed far from the truth, he did not con-

sider himself either as endorsing their errors or compromising his own orthodoxy.

“If I were to say in a single word, what seems to me to have been the most striking feature of Dr. Alexander’s character, I think it would be simplicity. His intellectual, moral, and even his physical habits, were all strongly marked by this characteristic. The operations of his mind were simple, — even when he penetrated farthest into the depths, he never suffered himself to be in a mist, never got involved in any inextricable labyrinths — his thoughts were clear to himself, and he could make them clear to others. He was remarkably simple as a writer, so that the same productions that would interest and edify the most mature mind, were almost level to the capacity of childhood. He had great simplicity of feeling and of purpose; he had no hidden meaning in what he said, and no hidden end in what he did. He was simple in his personal habits — simple in his mode of living — simple almost to a fault in his manners; for so averse was he to every thing like show, that he could never pay more than a bare decent respect to the forms of society. And in his wonderful simplicity in the pulpit was concentrated to a great extent his magic power. I have occasionally heard one of his students preach who was evidently trying to take on his manner; but I could not but think that the copy was as ridiculous as the original was admirable.”

We need not offer an apology for adding a few paragraphs in this place respecting Mrs. Alexander, who survived her husband less than one year. So united were they in their lives, so helpful, and as it were necessary to one another, and so seldom seen apart, that those who remember either will willingly read of both.

Janetta Waddel was the second daughter and fourth child of the celebrated James Waddel, D. D., already mentioned in this work. She was born in Augusta county, Virginia, but was early removed to the other side of the Blue Eidge, where she spent her happy youth in the county of Louisa. As she grew up she was greatly admired for her beauty, grace, and mental promise. During the long blindness of her father, she was eyes to his infirmity, acting as his amanuensis, and making him acquainted with the contents of many volumes. He taught her to pronounce Latin, at a very early age, that she might read works to him in that language. Under his guidance her education was conducted, partly by the aid of domestic teachers; for she never went abroad to school. In early youth she made a profession of her faith in Christ; but of her private exercises at this time, no particular account has been preserved.

As before related, Dr. Alexander turned aside from a journey, and gained her plighted affection. She was young and blooming, full of vivacity, and the charm of all his house. Matronly virtues in process of time took the place of youthful attraction; but we may be allowed to say, she was always lovely, as a wife, a mother, and a friend. It is impossible to describe what she was to her husband. It was not merely affection that she bestowed, though the tenderness of her attachment was anxious if not overweening; she rendered wise counsel; she assumed every domestic care with untiring industry, frugality, and hospitable warmth; she disguised her own solicitudes, to cheer him when he desponded or was ill; she gave her full soul to all his pleasures and all his pains; she was permitted to be as a ministering angel beside his dying bed. Through God’s singular mercy, she enjoyed life-long health and spirits. Her very countenance and greeting shed sunshine over the house and its guests; and the earlier students of the Seminary remember her as a mother or an elder sister.

Without pretension, she was well informed in the usual range of female literature. In conversation she excelled, being free, full of vivacity and humour, and ready to cheer the hearts of all who approached her. It is impossible for her ‘children to think of her, without an affectionate and pensive delight. Into her bosom they famiharly poured all their pleasures and grief, from infancy till some of them attained to gray hairs. Her mind was quick, and her memory remarkable. In later years her reading was chiefly of a religious kind, and her taste was for a class of authors who are savoury and evangelical. It is pleasant to recur to her favourite books: Wilson’s Sacra Privata, Bennet’s Divine Oratory, Traill’s Sermons on the Throne of Grace, Flavel’s Treatises, Newton’s Cardiphonia, Cowper’s Poems and Letters, and Boston’s Fourfold State. In the school which Providence had given her, she grew up to a modest, gentle and consistent piety. Her coincidence of views with her husband was perfect, and she shared his interest in all that concerned Christ’s kingdom. During the first years of the Seminary she was active and successful in gathering support for needy students. The humble poor found her bountiful, assiduous and constant. She delighted in religious services, and gave them much of her time.

The bereavement which made her a widow was a stroke which paralyzed her energies in some degree. Yet her resignation was absolute. She uttered no word of murmuring; she even showed a melancholy smile as she turned to her darkened house and to the service of her family. But a shade had fallen on her, and she never was the buoyant person she had been. Still she pursued her solitary path with uncomplaining diligence and kindly affection. It pleased God to make her departure eminently peaceful, as if in answer to prayers which we have recorded. It took place after a brief illness, accompanied with few violent symptoms, on the 7th day of September, 1852. Though the nature of her malady prevented her from much expression of her views, she has left her lamenting family fully confident of her Christian character and eternal peace.

The surviving children of Dr. Alexander are six sons and a daughter. Of the sons, three are ministers of the Gospel, two are lawyers, and one is a physician. In addition to changes already mentioned, it only remains to be said, that the last of Dr. Alexander’s brothers, Major John Alexander, of Lexington, departed this life in 1853, while these labours were near their end. We annex a tribute to his memory, from the pen of his pastor, the Rev. Dr. White:

“Major Alexander was the son of Wm. Alexander, Esq., of Kockbridge, Virginia, and brother of the late Dr. Alexander, of Princeton. He enjoyed the benefit of early religious instruction, and from his early youth was remarkable for integrity, industry, enlightened economy, and true benevolence. These virtues rendered him successful in getting an ample estate, and what was far better, gave him an unusual hold on the confidence and love of the community in which his whole life was passed. His high moral qualities were the result of religious training and religious principle. At an early period of life, he embraced Christ as he is freely offered in the Gospel, and served him as a member of the Presbyterian Church for more than fifty, and as a Kuling Elder for forty-seven years. His devotion to the Church of Christ was enlightened, warm and generous. He had long been the senior Elder in a Session of twelve members. He was no less active and liberal in his efforts to promote the cause of sound learning. As the generous friend, and senior member of the Board of Trustees of Washington College, his memory is held in grateful remembrance. The same is also true of the relations he sustained and the part he acted toward the Ann Smith Female Academy of this place. He served his country with unswerving fidelity as an officer, in the War of 1812, and for many years as Brigade Inspector for Western Virginia.

“In a word, the various relations he sustained both to the State and to the Church, the true patriotism, the sterling integrity, the eminent good sense, the modest, but enlightened and warm piety with which the high duties, flowing from these relations, were all discharged, render his death a very great public calamity.

“Although he had reached the seventy-eighth year of his age, he had retired from none of the active duties of lift for, ‘his eye was not dim, nor his natural force abated, No one ever thought of the c good Major, as he was familiarly called, as an old man. Though old in years, he was young in spirit. He possessed the wisdom of the one beautifully blended with the vivacity of the other. Whether you met him in the social circle or the street, at the prayer-meeting or in the great congregation, you were always cheered by the cloudless sun-light which his peaceful spirit threw over his benignant face. Never did there live and die a man whose hospitality, both to friends and to strangers, was more unpretending and generous. His house was the home of all who ever sought and deserved his confidence. He was literally happy in contributing to the happiness of others. — Thousands scattered all through the States of this Confederacy, yet live to testify to the truth of this statement.

“His lonely widow, with three sons and two daughters, survive in deepest affliction. They mourn — the Church, the whole community mourn, but not as they who have no hope. Full of years, yet strong in faith, he has gone to join his distinguished brother, his estimable, pious sister, who so recently preceded him, and with them to make a part of that great multitude which no man can number, who are before God’s throne, ( having washed their robes and made them white in the blood of the Lamb/

“He died of apoplexy. Consequently his fall was sudden, but it was safe. He was not called to endure protracted pain and sickness; nor were his loved family called to suffer from prolonged solicitude. Like Enoch he ’ walked with God, and he was not; for God took him, Truly it was much more like a translation than death.”