ON THE BEQUEST IN, HIS WILL FOR THE ENDOWMENT OF A PRO
FESSORSHIP IN THE GENERAL THEOLOGICAL
HAPPY the man, whose long and active life, By prudence, virtue and religion guided, Slides into Autumn, bearing red-ripe fruits, Wide-waving fields of yellow, golden grain,
Rich, sombre, chequered scenes, peaceful tho' pensive,
Or spread with ripe and swelling shocks full bound,
All ready for the garnering of Heaven!
Thrice happy, whom the chariot of time
Bears slowly down the gentle hill of life
Into the vale of evening, whose bright sun
A lovely,* purple light pours through the sky,
And gives a glimpse of Heaven's glory, hid
Behind the enchanted curtain of the clouds
Lit up with ever-changing rainbow tints!
Such was thy journey, generous Lorillard,
O'er life's brief pilgrimage. We all had heard
Full many a time and oft, of thy good deeds;
But most of all thy name was echoed round,
With grateful acclamation from each lip,
When our grieved citizens beheld a pastor,*
Resigned and humble as the priests of old,
Driven from those altars, and that temple dear
By his own labors reared; and with his flock
Turned forth into the world, without a fold
Where they might gather round the weekly board
Of God, their Father, and partake his feast
With spiritual, heavenly dainties ever spread.
Houseless, without a temple, wandering on
Through sorrow's darkening gloom they silent wept !
When lo! a packet comes, greeting their pastor,
To him addressed, and from some friend unknown:
It told, in few, brief words, a joyous tale
Of a new temple, and new altars, given,
Bestowed in full perfection for their use
By some kind, unknown friend! That friend all knew!
Howe'er he wished, that neither hand might know
The other's deed ;-thy name was in the act!
And spirits flitting heavenward whispered it!
Thy last and solemn testament displayed
An act of like design. Unlike the man
Whose will forbade the Christian minister
REV. JAMES MONTGOMERY.
All entrance to his college* posthumous;
Thy testament, more truly wise, endowed
For future ages the professor's chair,
From whence, to generations yet unborn,
Might march succeeding bands of well-trained youths,
Apostles, prophets, teachers, sons of God,
Sent forth to guide the sons of men to Heaven!
THE REV. JAMES MONTGOMERY, D. D.,
OF PHILADELPHIA, FORMERLY PASTOR OF GRACE CHUCH, IN
"His life was gentle, and the elements
So mixed in him, that Nature might stand up
And say to all the world-This was a man."
I ENTERED once, in days gone by,
A temple of the Deity,
Where silence deep, and deep-fixed eye
Told of that temple's sanctity;
A reverend priest stood in his place,
And breathed the prayer of piety;
His people gazed upon that face,
And thought of Heaven's eternity.
We met again in private life,
And oh! I loved to meet him there— His children dear-his angel wife
His friends so joyed his love to share! Montgomery! thou best of friends, Warm-hearted, kind and all sincere ; Thy soul disdained all selfish ends,
And held e'en foes as brethren dear.
But thou art gone! and o'er thy grave
Thy loved ones weep-how bitterly!
A mourner,* too, 'tis thine to have,
The loved of generations three!
Yet not, as lost to hope, they mourn,
Too well thy sainted life they knew:
They saw thy spirit heavenward borne,
Where blooming all thy bright hopes grew.
* Dr. White, the octogenarian Bishop of Pennsylvania.
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