back his soul from the pit, to be enlightened with the light of the living. But when these methods of correction have failed of their designed result, when men after proving their contempt on the voice of the Lord, refuse also to hear the rod, and who hath appointed it, God having endured these vessels of wrath, with so much long suffering will hasten to show his wrath and make his power known in their everlasting destruction.

But there is one way whereby God sometimes reveals his admonitive indignation against the refusers of his mercy, which though seldom so esteemed by them, is of all others by far the most dreadful in the view of the man of wisdom; and the event which has this day convened us makes it specially proper to mention it. It is when God withdraws his voice and appoints silence to instruct them: when he smites not them but his own ambassador; and calling his rejected witness home, leaves them only his grave and his dust to remind them of eternity. This is a kind of warning which almost no one lays to heart; and yet, in the way of reproof, what could the Lord do more than this, to strike the rock of impenitency into contrition?

It were most ungracious to insinuate that the recal of that very eminent man, who so long sounded out the "Lord's voice" from this place, should be regarded as a judgment upon the congregation; but this we may freely say, that every person, "man of wisdom," or otherwise, who was accustomed to hear the word at his mouth, should not be unexercised in deep thought and feeling, by that solemn act of a most deep meaning Providence. Especially does it con

cern those of you who though his testimony is ended, remain yet in your sins, to ponder this, to you surely, serious occurrence. How often have you heard from him as he was about closing a powerful argument against your unbelief, the tender premonition that his days were almost num

bered: what he then said has come to pass; and how soberly does the fulfilment of his word in this instance warn you, that though heaven and earth may pass away, nothing that he ever spoke to you, "as the voice of the Lord," shall fail to be accomplished. He is not more certainly gone the way of all the earth, nor was it at all more certain that he would go, than that what he has often told you out of the Scriptures respecting the final doom of the wicked, will be fulfilled in yourselves, if you do not repent.

But, however his removal should be interpreted in respect to the flock of which he was specially the shepherd, it reads a lesson to the church and the community at large, which nothing but the stupidity reprehended in this discourse can misunderstand. When one of the first luminaries in our heaven disappears, shall the inhabitants of the land have no concern at the event? When Elias is taken up, shall the cry be nowhere heard, "My Father, my Father, the chariot of Israel and the horsemen thereof." We shall not now venture to present a character of this great man; which, whoever attempts, should aim at an exactness of resemblance, such as when in water face answereth to face, lest, by being confronted with the very precise image which he has left of himself in your hearts, and in his works, it should be reproved as untrue to so rare a specimen of God's handiwork. Our remarks concerning him, will be such only as may be prompted by an endeavor to enforce the instruction afforded us by the Providence which has removed him.*

It may be well to record in this place, the following biographical particulars concerning this distinguished man. He was born February 21st, 1769, at Lewes, in the state of Delaware. He was graduated in the University of Pennsylvania, in 1788. He was admitted to the bar, in Sussex county, Delaware, in 1790.

He

While ministers of a certain class, possessing little intellectual furniture, besides a bare knowledge of the essential truths of the gospel, are, with warm spirits, with a most exemplary zeal, and with much success, constantly employed in applying those truths to the hearts of their fellow men, they are sometimes disposed to hold in too little esteem, the labors of those of their brethren, whose taste, learning, and sense of duty, incline them to deep research into the principles of things, to careful analysis of complex subjects, to critical investigation, and minute exegesis of the sacred text, to elaborate inquiry into ecclesiastical antiquities and the opinions and productions of early days, and to the knowledge and solution of all the most subtile objections that have at any time been urged by heretics and unbelievers, against the true Christian faith; as if without such vast labors at the fountains of wisdom, these less curious divines could have been supplied with some of those sweet streams, of which they are content to drink, without considering to whom next to God they are most indebted for the privilege. When our

was licensed to preach the gospel in 1804, and, in the same year, was ordained and installed as pastor over the united congregations of Lewes, Coolspring, and Indian river. In 1806, he was advised by the Presbytery of Lewes to accept the call of the First Presbyterian church in Philadelphia, to which he removed in the same year. In May, 1828, he removed to his farm, about 20 miles from Philadelphia, on account of the infirm state of his health; preaching, nevertheless, to his congregation frequently as his health permitted. His resignation of his pastoral charge was ac. cepted in the spring of 1830. In the same season, he visited the city, and preached for the last time to his people. He triumphantly departed to heavenly rest, December 9th, 1830, at nine o'clock in the evening, and was buried on the following Monday (Dec. 13th) in a spot, selected by himself, in the grave-yard of the Neshamony church.

friend fell asleep. in what pulpit of this land, was a man to be found so enriched as himself, with the fruits of this patient, and, at this day, too unusual researches of mind? Our ears never listened to a preacher whose common discourses discovered as rich treasures of recondite learning. And what more surprised us than the extent and variety of his acquisitions, was the ease and simplicity, and nice exactness, with which, on all occasions, he used them. In proportion to the depth and difficulty of his subjects, his tongue was loosed and moved nimbly and trippingly, as in its favorite sphere, expressing the most subtle distinctions and discriminations of thought; pursuing the most refined and complicate argumentations; collating, criticising, paraphrasing, Scriptures hard to be understood; reciting out of ancient and uncommon books, historical testimonies, and statements of doctrine; without the assistance of notes, and yet with a fluent precision and perspicuity of language which no such assistance could have improved.

Another recollection of him, which deepens exceedingly our sense of the loss we sustain by his departure, is, that with his great elevation in other respects he united in a rare degree what transcends all other excellence, and is the highest proof of true greatness, a catholic and charitable spirit. We never knew one who scrutinized more severely the evidences of doctrine; and he was, consequently, when convinced, not liable to be soon shaken in mind; nor did he lightly esteem the truth which with so much diligence and honesty he had acquired, or think it unimportant that others should be ignorant of it, much less that they should pervert or falsify it. But his reading was too various, his observation too wide, his acquaintance with the history of theological strifes too ample, his persuasion too lively, that the differences among religious parties are

rather referable to a sectarian than a truth-seeking spirit, and while they anathematize one another, may be consis tent with the existence, in some degree, of real piety in both, and their ultimate reconciliation in heaven-he was, in a word, too sound-minded and enlightened a man to be a fierce champion of an ecclesiastical shibboleth, or to eliminate those whom he might suspect of having no readiness in framing to pronounce it right. He was among the worthiest of those ministers in our own denomination, who, espousing no side in our debates about orthodoxy, are willing to let those debates proceed as long as they threaten no schism, but when that danger is seen, throw in their influence, as a balance wheel in a vast machine, whose movement, without such a regulator, would presently stop with a terrific crash and damage. Such was the spirit of this high-souled man; and who of us can consider the present state, might we not almost say, crisis, of affairs in our church, without sighing deeply in his spirit, that the voice which he could raise, were he now in the midst of us, is not to be heard again till time shall be no longer.

Nor was it merely in his high place as a minister of Christ that he singularly honored his Master: he was distinguished by simplicity as his disciple, not less than by gifts as his representative; and it is when these two exist in union, that they become worthy of admiration. What a charm is there in gifts when simplicity exercises them; and how venerable is simplicity when it invests illustrious gifts. Never have we seen the person, in whom simplicity dwelt in an equal degree. Whether in his public ministrations, or in private life, this great man was unassuming as a little child, claiming no distinctions above the plainest individuals, and appearing to be conscious of no superiority to them in understanding and knowledge.