ing its power in a successful conflict with the discomforts of the way. The Missionary's one horse, which the Bishop named "Sorry" from his colour and condition, was very much opposed to the spirit of this "fast" age. The result was a continued conflict between man and beast-the Missionary and the horse, of which the former was only half owner. At any unusual application of the whip, the Bishop always interposed on the ground that the Missionary had only a right to touch one half of the horse, and that he must not beat Mr. D.'s half! As the driving rain was falling fast and our umbrella afforded little shelter, the Bishop took in good part, the impudent suggestion of one of his youthful attendants, borrowed from a similar saying to Dr. McKnight, that "as soon as he got into the pulpit he would be dry enough." The way beguiled and shortened by constant pleasantry, its end at last, was reached. On entering the Church, by that ecclesiastical deformity a basement, the untidy appearance of every thing made a very disagreeable impression. In one corner were heaped the sweepings of the past year. At once our playful companion became the Bishop in God's House, jealous of its honour, indignant at its profanation. Bishop instantly summoned the minister, and the attendants stood almost aghast at the sternness and energy of his rebuke. The clergyman replied that it was not his "business to keep the Church clean." "Yes, Sir, it is your business, even if you sweep it yourself! Why, Sir, if even Satan likes to have places swept and garnished, can you think that the Holy God will tolerate such a place as this!"

The

Although he never played the Bishop with his clergy, and associated with them as a loving brother, yet he could be a Bishop, when it was needful.

On his first visitation of his Diocese in New Brunswick, Dr. Ogilby first met him at the dinner table of the Rev. John Croes. On returning home Dr. O. was asked what he thought of the new Bishop. He replied " One single speech of his satisfied me that he is the man for the Diocese, and that he will make it flourish." The conversation at dinner had reference to the Methodist system and its apparent success. Some one said that he thought their success was to be attributed to their system of itinerancy. If I thought so,' said the Bishop, I would set my clergy itinerating within a month.'"

I may add to this two incidents of one of his last visitations; which pleased and entertained him, as much as those who were with him. It was his first acquaintance, with a clergyman brought into the Diocese by those not friendly to the tone of its principles. He had no surplice, and had been

my

officiating without one. "Where is your surplice?" said Father. "I have none, Bishop." What have you been doing?" "Wearing the gown," said Mr. M. "You must have a surplice," my Father said. "Well Bishop, if I must have one, will you help me to get it?" "Will you wear it?" "Certainly, I will." "You shall have one before next Sunday." And before many days had passed, one was sent to him. After service my Father said to him, speaking of his letters of transfer, "You have got under a tyrant now." "I only promised to obey my Bishop's godly monitions, you know," was the reply. "Have you any children?" said my Father. "No." "Well you expect some don't you? "Yes, Bishop." "When you tell them to do a thing, will you let them be the judges as to whether it is a godly, or an ungodly monition? I guess you'll decide that yourself; as I do." And they parted, firm friends.

Going to visit a vacant parish, he found there a clergyman from another Diocese, officiating. "What are you doing here?" he said in an off-hand way" Well I am supplying the Church." "Who sent you?" "Well, Miss C. asked Mr. D., to find a clergyman, and he found me." "Is Mr. D., Bishop of New Jersey?" "No, but I am only here temporarily. "We only live temporarily," said my Father.

Thousands of such things there are; repartees, the play of sparkling wit, his genial, sunny conversation; but they are elsewhere written, and need not be, here.

As one tries to take in the roundness, the completeness of his character; the_portrait, if it were well drawn, would look somewhat so. Externally, unusual manly beauty. The beauty of intellectual power, in his massive head; of imagination, throned upon his noble brow; of love and kindliness, kindling in the depth of his eye, and the graciousness of his smile, of cordial friendship, in the warm grasp of his hand; of undaunted and indomitable decision, in his solid step; of anxious responsibility, in his bent shoulders; of incessant thought and care and suffering, in the flowing silver of his hair; and in his stalwart powerful frame, of a capacity for work and for endurance, such as few men possess. His will was mighty. Partly it was born in him. Partly it grew from the fact, that the latter and more responsible years of his life, found him with no friends near him, who had force enough to influence him, or steadiness enough to support him.-He was thrown thus necessarily upon himself, for counsel; and the earnest workings of an earnest soul, left alone, by a fickle, faithless age, to think and do as best he could, led him on, to an unhesitating pursuit of ends, that were beyond his grasp. The timidity of others increased his fearlessness, till it became

too daring. So real did his faith become, by the utter want of it in others, that results, impossible to others and possible to him, only through years of suffering and labour and care, were to him, as done. What to most men, would have been far off hopes and dreamy visions, were to him existing realities, that he could see and feel, and turn into sources of revenue. Whatever faults, whatever misfortunes, this mighty will and overweening faith may have brought upon him, I am well content to feel, that they are essential elements of all greatness; of all usefulness to others; and that, as more and more men see in their fulfilment, the realities which were real to him, in their conception, what seems recklessness and self-will, will be rounded and softened into the faith of the age of Saints; and the determined decision, that has given the world Becket and William of Wykeham and Archbishop Laud.

"Personally acquainted with him," writes the Bishop of Illinois, "from his diaconate, occasionally meeting on our paths of life, but knowing him best, as he has enabled all to know him, by his undoubted qualities of genius, intellect, learning, indomitable work, boldness, enthusiasm, tenderness, disinterested sympathy, gushing love for friends, his noble plans and mighty success in all that he attempted for the Church of Christ,-to me he stands indeed 'the great-hearted Shepherd;' and I thank God that whatever may have been the reality of his faults and wrongs, if such were, I have never been brought to know or feel them as a painful drawback to my admiration of him as a splendid man, whom death has now embalmed and my heart entirely identifies with his own last words."

Of his inner life, few know. It is too sacred, in its devotional character, its love of prayer, its intense appreciation of spiritual beauty, too sacred for any to look on, but the Eye of God. Of the soul and mind that made up the man, the picture would be hard to draw; utter fearlessness, with a woman's tender thoughtfulness; indomitable perseverance; an even balance of heart and head, of intellect and affection; enthusiastic faith; unshaken sanguineness of hope; perfect disregard of self; courthat courted danger; great self-reliance; loyalty that nailed his soul to any cause to which he was pledged; uncompromising adherence to principle; entire trust in God; intense and most appreciative love of the Church; and crowning all, greatest of all, God's own chief glory, abiding, inexhaustible, overflowing love. What pencil, what colours, what canvass, what skill, to paint the picture as it is? The two, to whom so many compare him, are S. Chrysostom and Jeremy Taylor. -His noblest name and best, to me, "the great-hearted."

age

CHAPTER VII.

SERMONS-ADDRESSES-CHARGES-PASTORAL LETTERS-LECTURES-CATECHIZING-PRAYERS-SPEECHES OBITUARIES-CONTROVERSIES.

"PREACHING the word;" "declaring the whole counsel of God; "keeping back nothing;" "rightly dividing the word;" "exhorting with all long-suffering, and doctrine;" and doing this in the Scriptural way, "line upon line, precept upon precept;" these are the marks of the thirty-seven years of my Father's work as a Preacher. As a preacher, he acquired a very great reputation, and widely extended. It was built up on a basis of solid theology, real thought, and ever fresh originality. His sermons, throughout, were written with great rapidity, and the greatest ease. Ordinarily the writing was begun, after the Saturday evening prayers; never early in the weekand it was the rarest event that he preached a sermon twice, except on his visitations. Men judged of his preaching in this way:

Bishop Doane was a mighty Preacher. Of him it might eminently be said, that his preaching was not in word only, but in power. Mighty in the Scriptures, he had hardly a thought, varied and original as all his thoughts were, which did not spontaneously arm itself, as it were, in the panoply of Inspiration. And the theme of his preaching was always Christ-Christ crucified, Christ risen; Christ the meritorious Cause of Salvation, Christ the living Power; Christ the Alpha and Omega, Christ the All in All. No one could recur more frequently than he, none more naturally, none with greater force of thought or variety of illustration, to that sacred basis of all pulpit power."

"I have not spoken to you of your Bishop and Rector, as a Preacher. It were needless. The very stones of this Temple are steeped in his eloquence. Its echoes will linger forever in these hallowed courts, and will, I trust, never pass from your hearts. His were "winged words "-words

Dr. Mahan's Sermon.

Dr. Ogilby's Sermon.

bearing, as on angels' wings, the messages of heaven. They can never die, for they were the words of enduring faith, eternal hope, immortal love. Nor need I speak to you of him as a Pastor. The foot-prints of his merciful offices are worn too deep, in all the paths of human sorrow and suffering among you, to be ever effaced."

*As a PREACHER, no bishop surpassed Bishop Doane. He has published more sermons than the whole House of Bishops -able sermons, which will be perpetual memorials of his intellectual powers, and of his zeal for the Church. These discourses are on a great variety of topics, but they contain much scriptural truth, mingled with his own peculiar views of apostolic order, sacramental grace, and ecclesiastical unity. His sermon before the last General Convention of the Episcopal Church in Philadelphia, was the occasion of one of the greatest triumphs he was ever permitted to enjoy. When his discourses and diocesan addresses are collected into a series of volumes, they will be found to be a treasury of High Church doctrine and order, which no bishop, nor all the bishops of his way of thinking, could equal. I have read most of his productions, and, although often disagreeing with him in sentiment, I have never failed to notice his intellectual vigour, his zeal for his church, and his unction for the episcopate."

In his own congregation, every one that took his place was unwelcome; and his teaching year after year, dwelling on the same great truths, was ever in such new and varied forms, that, while it had, always, the touching power of an old household song; it had the fresh variety of the first impression of something beautiful. With the same key, and yet altered constantly in its wards, he strove to open all the various locks, that shut the doors of men's hearts against the word of God, against the entrance of Him who stands at them and knocks. His sermons were very varied in their form. But his customary, and most effective sermons, were those in which he first divided the text into its essential points, in fewest and most telling words; and then developed each into the manifold fulness, of its proof, its meaning, and its application. It was like starting on the soft single notes of an organ, and then rising upon each with the deep sonorous swell, till it died down again, resolved into the full harmonious chord. Or like the single colours of a ray of light, passing each in its own clear beauty before the eye, and then melting into the crystal clearness of their combined power. Sometimes these divisions appeared, and sometimes not; but when they did, it was

* Dr. Van Rensselaer's Sermon.