his friends, or consulting his ease, moved by conscience of duty, he undertook the self denying charge of a dissenting congregation in Virginia, separated from all his brethren, and exposed to the censure and resentment of many. But the more he was known in those parts, the more were prejudices removed; contempt was gradually turned into reverence; and the number of his enemies daily diminished, and his friends increased.

Nor did he there labour in vain, or "spend his strength for nought." The "Lord, who counted him faithful, putting him into the ministry," succeeded his faithful endeavours, so that a great number, both of whites and blacks, were hopefully converted to the living God; for the proof of this, I must refer you to his own narrative, sent to the Rev. Mr. Bellamy, and by him published, and to his letters to some gentlemen of the society in London for propagating religion among the poor.

As to his natural genius, it was strong and masculine. His understanding was clear; his memory retentive; his invention quick; his imagination lively and florid; his thoughts sublime; and his language elegant, strong, and expressive. And I cannot but presume that true and candid critics will readily discern a great degree of true poetic fire, style, and imagery in his poetical compositions; and will grant that he was capable to have shone in that way, had his leisure permitted the due cultivation of his natural talent.

His appearance in company was manly and graceful, his behaviour genteel, not ceremonious; grave, yet pleasant; and solid, but sprightly too. In a word, he was an open, conversable, and entertaining companion, a polite gentleman, and devout christian, at once.

In the sacred desk, zeal for God, and love to men, animated his addresses, and made them tender, solemn, pungent, and persuasive; while at the same time they were ingenious, accurate, and oratorical. A certain dignity of sentiment and style, a venerable presence, a commanding voice, and emphatical delivery, concurred both to charm his audience, and overawe them into silence and attention.

Nor was his usefulness confined to the pulpit. His comprehensive mind could take under view the grand interests of his country and of religion at once; and these interests, as well as those of his friends, he was ever ready zealously to serve. It is known what an active instrument he was in stirring up a patriot spirit, a spirit of courage and resolution in Virginia, where he resided during the late barbarous French and Indian ravages.

His natural temper was remarkably sweet and dispassionate ;' and his heart was one of the tenderest towards the distressed.

*The Rev. Mr. John Rodgers, one of his most intimate friends, in a letter to me since his death, says, "I never saw him angry during several years of unbounded intimacy, though I have repeatedly known him to be ungenerously treated."

His sympathetic soul could say, "Who is weak, and I am not weak?" Accordingly his charitable disposition made him liberal to the poor, and that often beyond his ability. He was eminently obliging to all, and very sensible of favours conferred; which he could receive without servility, and manifest his grateful sense of them with proper dignity.

To his friend he was voluntarily transparent, and fully acted up to the poet's advice:

Thy friend put in thy bosom wear his eyes

Still in thy heart, that he may see what's there.

And perhaps none better understood the ingenuities and delicacies of friendship, or had an higher relish for it, or was truer or more constant in it than he. He was not easily disgusted; his knowledge of human nature in its present state, his candid heart, and enlarged soul both disposing and enabling him to make allowances for indiscretions, which narrower and more selfish minds could not make. He readily and easily forgave offences against himself, whilst none could be more careful to avoid offending others; which, if he at any time inadvertently did, he was forward and desirous to make the most ample satisfaction.

He was amongst the first and brightest examples of filial piety, a very indulgent parent, and humane master. As an husband, he was kind, tender, cordial, and respectful, with a fondness that was manly and genuine. In a word, think what might rationally be expected, in the present imperfect state, in a mature man, a christian in minority, a minister of Jesus, of like passions with others, in a gentleman, companion, and cordial friend, and you conceive of president Davies.

It would hardly be expected, that one so rigid with respect to his own faith and practice, could be so generous and catholic in his sentiments of those who differed from him in both, as he was. He was strict, not bigotted; conscientious, not squeamishly scrupulous. His clear and extensive knowledge of religion enabled him to discern where the main stress should be laid, and to proportion his zeal to the importance of things, too generous to be confined to the interests of a party as such. He considered the visible kingdom of Christ as extended beyond the boundaries of this or that particular denomination, and never supposed that his declarative glory was wholly dependent on the religious community which he most approved. Hence he gloried more in being a christian, than in being a presbyterian, though he was the latter from principle. His truly catholic address to the established clergy of Virginia is a demonstration of the sincere pleasure it would have given him, to have heard that " CHRIST was preached," and substantial religion, common christianity, promoted by those who "walked not with him," and whom he judged in other points to be mistaken. His benevolent heart could not be so soured, nor his enlarged soul so contracted, as to value men from circumstantial distinctions, but according to their personal worth.

He sought truth for its own sake, and would profess his sentiments with the undisguised openness of an honest christian, and the inoffensive boldness of a manly spirit; yet, without the least apparent difficulty or hesitation, he would retract an opinion on full conviction of its being a mistake. I have never known one, who appeared to lay himself more fully open to the reception of truth, from whatever quarter it came, than he; for he judged the knowledge of truth only to be real learning, and that endeavouring to defend an error was but labouring to be more ignorant. But, until fully convinced, he was becomingly tenacious of his opinion.

The unavoidable consciousness of native power made him bold and enterprising. Yet the event proved that his boldness arose not from a partial, groundless self-conceit, but from true selfknowledge. Upon fair and candid trial, faithful and just to himself, he judged what he could do; and what he could, when called to it, he attempted; and what he attempted he accomplished.

It may here be properly observed, that he was chosen by the Synod of New-York, at the instance of the Trustees of NewJersey College, as a fit person to accompany the Rev. Mr. Gilbert Tennent to Great Britain and Ireland, in order to solicit benefac tions for the said college. As this manifested the high opinion which both the Synod and Corporation entertained of his popular talents and superior abilities, so his ready compliance to undertake that service, hazardous and difficult in itself, and precarious in its consequences, which required him to overlook his domestic connexions, however tender and endearing, manifested his resolution and self-denial. How well he was qualified as a solicitor, is witnessed by the numerous and large benefactions he received. His services, as was meet, were gratefully accepted by his constituents; and to the pious, generous, and public-spirited charity of the friends of religion and learning in Great-Britain, received on that occasion, does the college of New-Jersey, in a great degree, owe its present flourishing condition.

As his light shone, his abilities to fill the President's chair in this College, then vacant, was not doubted by the honourable board of Trustees. He was accordingly chosen, and earnestly invited to accept the charge of the Society. Yet he once and again excused himself, not being convinced that he was called in duty to leave his then important province. But repeated application at length prevailed to make him apprehend that it was the will of God he should accept the call; yet, lest he should mistake in so important a case, he withheld his express consent, until the reverend Synod of New-York and Philadelphia gave their opinion in favour of the college. This determined his dubious mind. He came, and undertook the weighty charge.

And what were the consequences? Had his incessant labours in travelling and preaching the gospel, his disadvantageous situation, and want of opportunity for improvement made some of his best friends diffident of his capacity and acquirements for moving

with honour in this unaccustomed sphere? he agreeably disappointed their friendly fears, and convinced them that strength of genius, joined to industrious application, had surmounted all other disadvantages. Had any such raised expectations as seemed hard to answer? they were fully satisfied: so that from being highly approved, he came to be admired.

His manner of conducting the college did honour to himself, and promoted its interests. Whatever alterations in the plans of education he introduced were confessedly improvements on those of his predecessors. Had I never had other means of intelligence, save only my knowledge of the man, I should naturally have expected that all his public appearances would have been conducted with spirit, elegance, and decorum; that his government would be mild and gentle, tempered with wisdom and authority, and calculated to command reverence while it attracted love, and that his manner of teaching would be agreeable and striking.

But I propose not these as mere conjectures. The learned Tutors of the college, the partners of his counsels and deliberations for its good, and these young gentlemen, once his care and charge, who judged themselves happy under his tuition, all know more than I shall speak.

You know the tenderness and condescension with which he treated you; the paternal care with which he watched over you; the reluctance with which he at any time inflicted the prescribed punishment on a delinquent; and how pleased he was to succeed in reforming any abuse by private and easy methods. You felt yourselves voluntarily confined by the restraints of love, and obliged to subjection, not from slavish fear, but from principle and inclination. You have yet fresh in memory his instructive lectures, and can tell with what ease he communicated his sentiments, and impressed his ideas on your minds, and the entertaining manner in which he would represent even a common thought.

But his persuasive voice you will hear no more. He is removed far from mortals, has taken his aerial flight, and left us to lament, that “a great man has fallen in Israel !" He lived much in a little time; "he finished his course," performed sooner than many others his assigned task, and, in that view, might be said to have died mature. He shone like a light set in a high place, that burns out and expires.

He went through every stage of honour and usefulness, compatible to his character as a dissenting clergyman and while we flattered our fond hopes of eminent services from him for many years to come, the fatal blow was struck; our pleasing prospects are all at an end, and he is cut down like a tree that had yielded much fruit, and was laden with blossoms even in its fall.

This dispensation, how mysterious, how astonishing, nay, how discouraging does it seem! Why was he raised, by divine Providence, in the prime of life, to so important a station, and

amidst useful labours, while he was fast increasing in strength adapted to his business, quickly snatched away? This is a perplexing case; and the more so that it so soon succeeded the yet shorter continuance of the venerable Edwards. Were they set in so conspicuous a point of view, only that their imitable excellencies might be more observable? or, was Nassau-hall erected by divine Providence for this, among other important purposes, that it might serve to adorn the latter end of some eminent servants of the living God, itself being adorned by them? In this view, the short presidency of a Dickinson, a Burr, an Edwards, and a Davies, instead of arguing the displeasure of the Almighty, will evidence his peculiar favour to this institution; which I know was planned, and has been carried on with the most pious, benevolent, and generous designs. These designs God's goodness has hitherto amazingly prospered, amidst apparent frowns ; and, if we may infer any thing from what he has already done, it is an encouraging expectation that he will continue to bless this society, and make it an honour and happiness to this venerable board, to have been engaged in so noble and successful an undertaking.

Now one more shining orb is set on our world. Davies is departed, and with him all that love, zeal, activity, benevolence, for which he was remarkable. This the church, and this the bereaved college mourns. For this we hang our once cheerful harps, and indulge the plaintive strains. Yet we are not to lament as those who are hopeless, but rather with humble confidence to " pray the Lord of the harvest," with whom is "the residue of the spirit," that he would send forth another Davies to assist our labour, and forward his work.

Nor should the decease of useful labourers, the extinction of burning and shining lights, only send us to the throne of grace for supplies, but excite us to greater diligence and activity in our business, as we have for the present the more to do. And, instead of being dispirited by the loss of such eminent assistants, we should be animated by their example, and hope for the same divine aids that carried them through all the duties and dangers of life with safety, success, and honour.

Finally, this dispensation should lessen our esteem of this transitory disappointing world, and raise our affections to Heaven, that place and state of permanent blessedness. Thither ascends, as to its native home, all the goodness that departs from earth ; and the more of our pious friends that go to glory, so many more secondary motives have we to excite our desires of "departing and being with Christ," which is far better than any state under the sun for there, in addition to superior felicity, we shall come to the general assembly, and church of the first born who are written in heaven-and to the spirits of just men made perfect."

AMEN.