University of Virginia Library

ARTICLE I.

Recollections of the Protestant Episcopal Church of Virginia,
during the Present Century. With a Brief Notice of its Earlier
History. By Bishop Meade.[1]

It is a useful employment for societies as well as individuals to
look back through their past history and mark the dealings of a
kind Providence towards them. The History of the Episcopal
Church of Virginia has been, from the very beginning, a most interesting

and eventful one—beyond that of any Diocese in the
Union. I would briefly refer to some of its particulars, in order
to raise our hearts in gratitude to God for its wonderful preservation,
and to make us more faithful and zealous in using the proper
means for its further advancement.

The Episcopal Church of Virginia commenced with the first
settlement of the first Colony. The code of laws of that Colony
was drawn up at a time when "religion (as Bishop Taylor expresses
it) was painted upon banners," for it was "divine, martial, and
moral," all in one, being enforced, even among Protestants, by
civil pains and penalties which we would fain now banish from our
recollections and blot from the page of history. That there was
much of sincere piety moving the hearts of those who incorporated
the forms of the Episcopal Church with the Colony of Virginia,
as well as of those who established other forms among the Pilgrim
Fathers of New England, I doubt not. Nor do I question the
piety and fidelity of some of the people and pastors during its
whole subsequent history. But that its spiritual condition was ever,
at any time, even tolerably good, bearing a comparison with that
of the Mother-Church, over whose defects also there was so much
cause to mourn, faithful history forbids us to believe. Many were
the disadvantages under which she had to labour, during nearly the
whole period of her existence in connection with the government
of England, which were well calculated to sink her character
beneath that of the Church of England, and of some other
churches in America. Immense were the difficulties of getting a
full supply of ministers of any character; and of those who came,
how few were faithful and duly qualified for the station! One who
was indeed so faithful as to be called the Apostle of Virginia at
an early period of its settlement, lamenting over the want of
ministers in the Colony, thus upbraids those who refused to come.
"Do they not either wilfully hide their talents, or keep themselves
at home, for fear of losing a few pleasures? Be not there any
among them of Moses and his mind, and of the Apostles, who
forsook all to follow Christ?" The Council of Virginia also
addressed the most solemn and pathetic appeals to the clergy of
England, beseeching them to come over to the work of the Lord in
the Colony—though, it is to be feared, with little success; for in
the year 1655 it is recorded that many places were destitute of
ministers, and likely still to continue so, the people not paying
their "accustomed dues." There were, at this time, about fifty
parishes in the Colony, most of which were destitute of clergymen,

as there were only ten ministers for their supply. To
remedy this evil it was proposed to establish in the English Universities
Virginia fellowships, imposing it as a condition, that the
fellows spend seven years in Virginia; but we do not read of its
execution. That the ministers then in the Colony were men of
zeal can scarce be supposed, as a law was required enjoining it
upon them to preach constantly every Sabbath and administer the
sacrament at least twice every year. If we proceed in the history
of the Colony another fifty years, which will carry us beyond the
first century of its existence, we shall find only a few more
parishes established, and, though glebes and parishes had been
provided, not more than one-half of the congregations were supplied
with ministers, the rest being served by lay-readers. In
some places indeed lay-readers were preferred to settled ministers,
because less expensive to the parishioners. As to the unworthy
and hireling clergy of the Colony, there was no ecclesiastical
discipline to correct or punish their irregularities and
vices. The authority of a Commissary was a very insufficient substitute
for the superintendence of a faithful Bishop. The better
part of the clergy and some of the laity long and earnestly petitioned
for a faithful resident Bishop, as the Bishop of London was,
of necessity, only the nominal Bishop. For about two hundred
years did the Episcopal Church of Virginia try the experiment
of a system whose constitution required such a head but was
actually without it. No such officer was there to watch over the
conduct and punish the vices of the clergy; none to administer
the rite of Confirmation, and thus admit the faithful to the Supper
of the Lord. It must be evident that the Episcopal Church,
without such an officer, is more likely to suffer for the want of
godly discipline than any other society of Christians, because all
others have some substitute, whereas our own Church makes this
office indispensable to some important parts of ecclesiastical
government and discipline. Such being the corrupt state of the
Church in Virginia, it is not wonderful that here, as in England,
disaffection should take place, and dissent begin. The preaching
and zeal of Mr. Whitefield, who visited Virginia about this time,
contrasted with the sermons and lives of the clergy generally, contributed
no doubt to increase disaffection. The pious Mr. Davies,
afterwards President of Princeton College, made the first serious
inroad upon the unity of the Church. His candid testimony
deserves to be here introduced. "I have reason to hope," he says,
"that there are and have been a few names in various parts of the
Colony who are sincerely seeking the Lord and groping after religion
in the communion of the Church of England." "Had the
doctrines of the Gospel been solemnly and faithfully preached in
the Established Church, I am persuaded there would have been
few Dissenters in these parts of Virginia, for their first objections
were not against the peculiar rites and ceremonies of that Church,
much less against her excellent Articles, but against the general
strain of the doctrines delivered from the pulpit, in which these
Articles were opposed, or (which was the more common case) not
mentioned at all, so that at first they were not properly dissenters
from the original constitution of the Church of England, but the
most strict adherents to it, and only dissented from those who had
forsaken it."

That there was at this time not only defective preaching, but,
as might be expected, most evil living among the clergy, is
evident from a petition of the clergy themselves to the legislature
asking an increase of salary, saying "that the small
encouragement given to clergymen is a reason why so few come
into this Colony from the Universities, and that so many who are
a disgrace to the ministry find opportunities to fill the parishes."
It is a well-established fact that some who were discarded from the
English Church yet obtained livings in Virginia. Such being the
case, who can question for a moment the entire accuracy of the
account both of the preaching and living of the clergy of his day,
as given by the faithful and zealous Mr. Jarrett? and who could
blame him for the encouragement afforded to the disciples of Mr.
Wesley, at a time when neither he nor they thought there could
be a separation from the Church of England? Dissent, from
various causes, was now spreading through the Commonwealth;
dissatisfaction with the mother-country and the Mother-Church was
increasing, and the Episcopal clergy losing more and more the
favour of God and man, when this devoted minister, almost alone
in preaching and living according to the doctrine, discipline, and
worship of the Protestant Episcopal Church, was glad to avail
himself of any aid in the good work he was endeavouring to perform.
For the time, however, his efforts were unavailing. The
War of the Revolution was approaching, and with it the downfall
of the Church. Many circumstances contributed to this event.
The opposition to the Dissenters in times past had embittered
their minds against the declining Establishment. The attachment
of some few of the clergy to the cause of the king subjected
the Church itself to suspicion, and gave further occasion

to its enemies to seek its destruction. The dispute about
Church property now came on, and, for twenty-seven years, was
waged with bitterness and violence. At the commencement of the
War of the Revolution, Virginia had ninety-one clergymen, officiating
in one hundred and sixty-four churches and chapels; at its
close, only twenty-eight ministers were found labouring in the less
desolate parishes of the State. Whither numbers of them had fled,
and to what secular pursuits some of them had betaken themselves,
it is not in our power to state. Had they been faithful shepherds,
they would not have thus deserted their flocks.

We come now to the efforts of the more faithful to strengthen the
things that remained but were ready to die. In common with
some other dioceses, the Church in Virginia resolved on an effort to
obtain consecration from abroad for a Bishop who might complete
her imperfect organization. A very worthy man, the Rev. Dr.
Griffith, was selected for the purpose; but so depressed was her
condition, so little zeal was found in her members, that, though
for three successive years calls were made upon the parishes for
funds to defray his expenses to England, only twenty-eight
pounds were raised, a sum altogether insufficient for the purpose,
so that the effort on his part was abandoned through poverty and
domestic affliction. Even at a subsequent period, when renewed
efforts, prompted by shame at past failures and a sense of duty
to the Church, were made to secure what was necessary for
Bishop Madison's consecration, a sufficiency, even with some
foreign aid, was not obtained to pay all the necessary expenses
of the voyage. The object, however, was accomplished, and at
the end of almost two hundred years from the establishment of a
most imperfect Church in Virginia a Bishop was obtained. But
she was too far gone, and there were too many opposing difficulties,
for her revival at that time. From the addresses of Bishop
Madison to the Episcopalians of Virginia, it will be seen that he
entered on his duties with no little zeal and with very just views
of the kind of men and measures necessary for the work of revival.
He plainly admits the want of zeal and fidelity in many
of the ministers as one of the causes of the low condition of the
Church, and that the contrary qualifications were indispensable to
her resuscitation. He made an ineffectual effort at bringing back
into the bosom of the Church the followers of Mr. Wesley, for
they had now entirely separated from her. After a few partial
visitations of the Diocese, his hopes of the revival of the Church
evidently sunk; and the duties of the College of William and

Mary, of which he was President, requiring his attention during
the greater part of the year, at the Convention of 1805 he called
for a Suffragan or Assistant Bishop. The subject was referred to
the next year's Convention, but no such meeting was held, nor
was there another until after his death. For seven years it
seemed as if the worst hopes of her enemies and the most painful
fears of her friends were about to be realized in her entire
destruction. In the General Convention of the Church, held in
the city of New Haven in 1811, there was no representation nor
any report whatever from Virginia. The following entry is found
on the journal:—"They fear, indeed, that the Church in Virginia
is from various causes so depressed, that there is danger of
her total ruin, unless great exertions, favoured by the blessing
of Providence, are employed to raise her." And what more
could be expected from the character of the clergy generally at
that time, or for a long time before? It is a melancholy fact,
that many of them had been addicted to the race-field, the card-table,
the ball-room, the theatre,—nay, more, to the drunken
revel. One of them, about the very period of which I am speaking,
was, and had been for years, the president of a jockey-club.
Another, after abandoning the ministry, fought a duel in sight
of the very church in which he had performed the solemn offices
of religion.[2] Nothing was more common, even with the better
portion of them, than to celebrate the holy ordinance of Baptism,
not amidst the prayers of the congregation, but the festivities
of the feast and the dance, the minister sometimes taking a full
share in all that was going on. These things being so, and the
churches having been, on account of such things, almost entirely
deserted or else occupied by those who only held our Zion up to
derision, what but a firm conviction of God's watchful providence
over her could keep alive hope in the most ardent of her friends?
How often, in looking at the present comparative prosperity of
the Church, do we say, Surely God must have greatly loved this
branch of his Holy Catholic Church or he would not have
borne so long with her unfaithfulness and so readily forgiven
her sins.

Having presented this brief sketch of the past history of the
Church in Virginia, I now proceed to execute the task assigned
me by stating some things which came more or less under my own
personal observation.

My earliest recollections of the Church are derived from visits,
while yet a child, to the Old Stone Chapel in Frederick county,
(then the back-woods of Virginia,) either on horseback, behind my
father, or with my mother and the children in my grandmother's
English chariot, drawn by four work-horses in farming-gear,—
richer gear having failed with failing fortunes. Some of the
neighbours went in open four-horse plantation-wagons, very different
from the vehicles to which they had been accustomed in
Lower Virginia, whence they emigrated.[3] My father took an

active part in the erection of this house, which was about seven
miles distant from his residence. It was here that I officiated
during the first twenty-five years of my ministry. The congregation,
which now worships in a larger one four miles off, makes
a kind of pilgrimage to it on one Sabbath each summer. It is
still used for service in behalf of coloured persons, and on funeral
occasions. Near it lies the parish burying-ground, where many
dear friends and relatives are interred, and where I hope to find
a grave. The Rev. Alexander Balmaine, a chaplain in the
United States Army during the War of the Revolution, and who
was married to a relative of Mr. Madison, one of the Presidents
of our country, was the minister of it for more than thirty
years, during the last ten or twelve of which I was associated
with him. He lived in Winchester, and preached alternately
there, in a stone church of about the same size, and at the
chapel.

There was a small wooden church very near the chapel, which
was built before the war, and in which the Rev. Mr. Thruston officiated.
The Baptists were, in his day, establishing themselves in
this part of the Valley of Virginia. With them, it is said, he had
much and sharp controversy. On the declaration of war he laid
aside the ministry and entered the army, attaining before the close
of it to the rank of Colonel, by which title he was known to the
end of his days. About twelve miles from my father's, in a direction
opposite to the chapel, there was another small log church, in
which the Rev. Mr. Mughlenburg, afterwards General Mughlenburg,
occasionally officiated. He was the minister of the adjoining
parish in Shenandoah county and lived at Woodstock. He also
exchanged the clerical for the military profession and rose to the
rank of General. Tradition says that his last sermon was preached
in military dress, a gown being thrown over it, and that he either
chose for his text or introduced into his sermon the words of

Ecclesiastes, "To every thing there is a season, and a time to
every purpose under the heaven,"—"a time of war and a time of
peace," and that, the sermon being over, he laid aside the gown
and walked forth the soldier in dress and office. He was esteemed
a very upright and patriotic man. I have often in my younger
days, and indeed after my entrance upon the ministry, seen a poor
old lady at the chapel in Frederick, who sat under his ministry
and still lived near his log church. Being twenty miles off from
the chapel, she would come on horseback either to Winchester or
to the house of my elder sister over night. Her visits were generally
on communion-days, and she always partook of it fasting.
She spoke well of her minister as one who was faithful to his duty,
for he rode twenty miles to preach to a few poor people in one of
the poorest parts of the country. My next recollections of the
Church are in the person of my teacher, who was educated in
General Washington's Free School in Alexandria, and afterward
on account of his promising talents sent to William and Mary
College. At the end of his literary course he was admitted to
Deacons' orders by Bishop Madison. A year or two after this he
became teacher to the children of those few families who composed
almost the whole of the chapel congregation. He was faithful as
a classical teacher, heard us our catechism once a week, and for
some time opened the school with prayer. He officiated also for a
period at the chapel on those Sundays which Mr. Balmaine gave
to Winchester; but, his habits becoming bad, he ceased ever after
to exercise the ministerial office, being fully conscious that he had
mistaken his calling. He left no posterity to be wounded by this
statement, or I should have forborne to make it.[4] During this
period of my life I had no other means of gaining a knowledge of
the Church and her clergy than from my parents at home. When
there was no service at the chapel or we were prevented from
going, my father read the service and a sermon; and whenever a
death occurred among the servants he performed the burial service
himself, and read Blair's Sermon on Death the following Sunday.
Of the character and conduct of the old clergy generally I have often
heard them speak in terms of strong condemnation. My father,
when a young man, was a vestryman in Prince George county,
Virginia, but resigned his place rather than consent to retain an
unworthy clergyman in the parish. Of two clergymen, however,
in King George county,—the Stewarts,—I have heard my mother,
who lived for some time under the ministry of one of them, speak
in terms of high commendation, as exceptions to the general rule.
At the age of seventeen I was sent to Princeton College, where, of
course, I had no opportunities of acquiring any knowledge of the
Church, as it had no existence there at that time, though it was
while there that I formed the determination, at the instance of my
mother and elder sister, to enter the Episcopal ministry, as they
perceived from my letters the serious turn of my mind. I ought
to have stated above that my confirmation took place at a very
early period, during the first and only visit of Bishop Madison to
this part of Virginia. I have but an indistinct recollection of his
having heard some of us the Catechism at church, and, as I suppose,
laying his hands upon us in confirmation afterward, perceiving
that we said our Catechism well. But as to both of them, especially
the latter, I have relied more on the testimony of older
persons than on my own certain remembrance. At the age of
nineteen or a few months sooner my college course was over.
Through my beloved relative and faithful friend, Mrs. Custis of
Arlington, I heard of the great worth of the Rev. Walter Addison
of Maryland and determined to prepare for the ministry at his
house and under his direction. In him I became acquainted with
one of the best of men and saw one of the purest specimens of
the ministerial character. Mr. Addison was of English parentage,
and born to large landed possessions on the Maryland side of the
Potomac opposite to Alexandria. He also inherited a number of
servants, whom he emancipated. Through mismanagement his
other property wasted away. But the God whom he served never
permitted him to want, though he was allowed to end his days in
poverty. It required but little to serve him, for he was a man of
content and self-denial. At a time when wine, whiskey, rum, and
brandy were so commonly and freely drunken by all, especially by
many of the clergy of Virginia and Maryland, he made a rule
never to drink more than one small glass of very weak toddy at
dinner, but this was equal to total abstinence now. Wine he had
none. He was faithful and bold in reproving vice from the pulpit
and elsewhere, though one of the meekest of men. He told me
of some mistakes into which he ran in his earlier days. He was
probably one of the first of the Episcopal clergy in the United
States who denounced what are called fashionable amusements.
Some years before my acquaintance with him he published a small
volume against balls, theatres, gambling, and horse-racing, adducing
some high authorities from the Church of England. His
opposition to duelling and the means he adopted to prevent it made
him for a number of years very notorious among the members of our
American Congress. Being pastor of the church in Georgetown,
though still living in the country at the time, he had the opportunity
of exerting himself in the prevention of duels on several occasions.
He has often detailed to me the circumstances attending those
efforts,—namely, his clothing himself with a civil office, in order the
more effectually to arrest the duellists in their attempts to find some
favourable place for the combat, his interview with Mr. Jefferson,
when he had reason to believe that one of the parties was in the President's
house, his pursuit after them on horseback, his overtaking
them just as the seconds were measuring the ground, their threatening
to bind him to a tree in the Arlington forest if he did not desist
from the pursuit. These and such like things have I heard from
his truthful lips. At the time of the threatened encounter
between Mr. John Randolph and Mr. Eppes, he was fully prepared
to prevent it, and if necessary deposit one or both of them in a
place of confinement. Mr. Randolph was then an attendant at his
church in Georgetown. Eleven o'clock on Sunday morning was selected
for the combat, in order, as was believed, to evade Mr. Addison's
vigilance, as it was supposed he would then be at his post of
duty in the house of God. But he believed that his post of duty
on that day was elsewhere, and did not hesitate about disappointing
the congregation. For some time preceding the appointed hour he
was secreted near the hotel where Mr. Randolph boarded, ready to
arrest him should he leave the house. But an adjustment of the
difference took place about that time. Mr. Stanford, a worthy
member from North Carolina, the steady and judicious friend of
Randolph, was doubtless engaged in the adjustment. At any
rate, he knew what was going on and when the pacification was
effected. He knew also where Mr. Addison was and what he was
prepared to do. He it was who informed Mr. Addison that he
might go with a quiet conscience to his Sabbath duties, as the difficulty
was settled. This I had from the lips of Mr. Stanford himself,
with whom I had the pleasure to be intimately acquainted for
many years. Mr. Addison was equally opposed to strife in the
Christian Church. Although he was a true lover of our own and
most passionately devoted to her services, yet he was no bigot, but
embraced all Christians and Churches in the arms of his wide-extended
charity. The unchurching doctrine he utterly rejected.
Just before I lived with him an Episcopal paper was commenced in
the North in which that position was taken. He either subscribed
to it, or it was sent to him; but, on finding that it declared all
other ministries invalid and all other churches out of the covenant,
he returned the paper or declined to receive it any longer. He
loved to see sinners converted, by whatsoever instruments God might
employ. There was a certain place in the corner of his large
country parish where neither he nor any other Episcopal minister
had been able to make any impression. Some Methodists being
there and desiring to build a church, he bid them God-speed and
furnished some pecuniary or other assistance, hoping that they
might do what he had not been able to do. Such was the man of
God with whom it was my privilege to spend some happy and I
hope not unprofitable months, the period of my stay being abridged
by a weakness in the eyes, which altogether prevented study. He
lived to a good old age, loving all men and beloved by all who
knew him. Many of his last years were spent in darkness, but
not of the soul. His eyes became dim, until at length all was
night to him. But while only a glimmering of light remained, he
rejoiced and thanked God for it far more than those do who enjoy
a perfect vision. And when all was gone, he was still the happiest
and most grateful of all the happy and grateful ones whom I have
ever seen or known. In my visits to the district afterward, I ever
felt it to be my sacred duty, as it was my high happiness, to enter
his humble dwelling. But this was never done without bursts of
feelings and of tears on both sides.

From this digression, which I am sure the reader will pardon, I
return to the more immediate object of this article.

As I am engaged in presenting my recollections of the state of
things in the Church of Virginia, I think this a proper time for
some notice of the character of the sermons which were preached
and the books which were read among the Episcopalians of Virginia.
This was the period when the poet Cowper upbraided the
clergy of the English Church with substituting morality for religion,
saying,—

In the Church of Virginia, with the exception of Mr. Jarrett
and perhaps a few others, I fear the preaching had for a long time
been almost entirely of the moral kind. The books most in use
were Blair's Sermons, Sterne's Works, The Spectator, The Whole
Duty of Man, sometimes Tillotson's Sermons, which last were of
the highest grade of worth then in use. But Blair's Sermons, on
account of their elegant style and great moderation in all things,
were most popular. I remember that when either of my sisters
would be at all rude or noisy, my mother would threaten them with
Blair's Sermon on gentleness. The sickly sensibility of Sterne's
Sermons (and especially of his Sentimental Journey) was the
favourite style and standard of too many of our clergy. After
entering the ministry I heard several of such most faulty exhibitions
of Christian morality. It is no wonder that the churches
were deserted and the meeting-houses filled. But the time had
come, both in the English and American Church, for a blessed
change. There is something interesting in the history of one of
the ways in which it was introduced into the Church of Virginia.
The family of Bishop Porteus was Virginian — of Gloucester
county—opposite old Yorktown, the residence of General Nelson.
It is not certain but that Bishop Porteus himself was born in Virginia
and carried over when a child to England with his emigrating
parents. Porteus became a tutor in the Eton school, and when
General Nelson was sent to England for his education his father
placed him under the care of Mr. Porteus. When Porteus was
elevated to the rank of a Bishop he did not forget his former pupil
and family, but sent them his first work, a volume of sermons,
which were a great improvement on the sermons of that day.
When Mr. Wilberforce, with whom he was intimate, published his

celebrated evangelical work, "Practical View of Christianity,"
this was also sent, and afterward I believe the Bishop's Lectures
on the Gospel of St. Matthew, which were an improvement on his
sermons. A beginning of more evangelical views of Christian
doctrine was thus made in one of the best and most influential
families of Virginia. By my intimacy with one branch of this
family, which led to a matrimonial connection before my ordination,
I became acquainted with Wilberforce's "Practical View of
Christianity," and I believe Porteus's Lectures. These I read
during the time I spent with Mr. Addison, and well remember the
impression made upon me by the same. I felt that, if ever permitted
to preach, I had only to present the views set forth in these
books, and my hearers must be converted, though I was soon
brought to the experience of Melancthon, "That old Adam was
too strong for young Melancthon." These books were, I believe,
republished in America about this time, together with some of the
writings of Miss Hannah More, and all contributed to elevate and
evangelize the style of preaching in our Church. Those who
undertook the resuscitation of the Church in Virginia certainly
adopted and in their sermons exhibited these views. In this they
were greatly encouraged by the sermons of Mr. Jarrett, two editions
of which had been published.[5]

I am now brought to the period of my ordination, which introduced
me to some things, in relation to the Church of Virginia,
not without a painful interest to the lovers of true religion. But,
before speaking of some circumstances attendant on my ordination,
it may be well to allude to a correspondence between Bishop Madison
and myself, some months before that event. It is the more
proper so to do as it will serve to correct some misunderstandings
which have gone abroad with respect to us both, and which have
had a bearing on the reputation of the Virginia Churchmanship of
that day. Passing through Philadelphia a year or more before my
ordination, and staying at the house of an Episcopal clergyman, I
heard some severe strictures on one or more of the ministers of our
Church, in some other diocese or dioceses, for violating the rubrics
of the Prayer Book by abridging the service. It was designated
by no slighter term than perjury, in the violation of solemn ordination
vows. I learned afterward that such charges were made
elsewhere. In examining the Canons of the Church I also found
one which seemed positively to forbid, under any circumstances, the
admission into an Episcopal pulpit of any minister not Episcopally
ordained. I was aware that it was impossible to use the whole
service in very many of the places where I might be called to officiate,
and well knew that ministers of other denominations preached
in many of our old Episcopal churches, and, indeed, that it was
questioned whether under the law our ministers had the exclusive
right to them. I also saw that there was a canon forbidding servile
labour to the clergy, while from necessity—for the support of a
young family—I was then taking part in the labours of the field,
which in Virginia was emphatically servile labour. Wishing to
enter the ministry with a good conscience and correct understanding
of my ordination vows, I wrote a letter of inquiry to Bishop
Madison on these several points. To this I received a very sensible
reply, nearly all of which, I think, the House of Bishops and the
Church generally would now indorse, though there would have
been some demurring in former times. On the occasion of my
consecration to the office of Bishop it was objected by some that
Bishop Madison had ordained me with a dispensation from canonical
obedience. Having his letter with me,—which the reader may

see in the note,—the objection was not urged.[6] In the month of
February, 1811, I proceeded on horseback to Williamsburg, about
two hundred miles, and on Sunday, the 24th,—a clear, cold morning,—was
ordained. My examination took place at the Bishop's,
before breakfast,—Dr. Bracken and himself conducting it. It was
very brief. It has been asserted that Bishop Madison became an
unbeliever in the latter part of his life, and I have often been
asked if it was not so. I am confident that the imputation is
unjust. His political principles, which at that day were so identified
in the minds of many with those of infidel France, may
have subjected him to such suspicion. His secular studies, and
occupations as President of the College and Professor of Natural
Philosophy, may have led him to philosophize too much on the
subject of religion, and of this I thought I saw some evidence in
the course of my examination; but that he, either secretly, or to
his most intimate friends, renounced the Christian faith, I do not
believe, but am confident of the contrary. To proceed with the
ordination. On our way to the old church the Bishop and myself
met a number of students with guns on their shoulders and dogs at
their sides, attracted by the frosty morning, which was favourable
to the chase; and at the same time one of the citizens was filling
his ice-house. On arriving at the church we found it in a wretched
condition, with broken windows and a gloomy, comfortless aspect.
The congregation which assembled consisted of two ladies and
about fifteen gentlemen, nearly all of whom were relatives or acquaintances.
The morning service being over, the ordination and
communion were administered, and then I was put into the pulpit
to preach, there being no ordination sermon. The religious condition
of the College and of the place may easily and justly be
inferred from the above. I was informed that not long before this
two questions were discussed in a literary society of the College:—
First, Whether there be a God? Secondly, Whether the Christian
religion had been injurious or beneficial to mankind? Infidelity,
indeed, was then rife in the State, and the College of William and
Mary was regarded as the hotbed of French politics and religion.
I can truly say, that then, and for some years after, in every educated
young man of Virginia whom I met, I expected to find a
skeptic, if not an avowed unbeliever. I left Williamsburg, as may
well be imagined, with sad feelings of discouragement. My next
Sabbath was spent in Richmond, where the condition of things
was little better. Although there was a church in the older part
of the town, it was never used but on communion-days. The place
of worship was an apartment in the Capitol, which held a few hundred
persons at most, and as the Presbyterians had no church at
all in Richmond at that time, the use of the room was divided
between them and the Episcopalians, each having service every
other Sabbath morning, and no oftener. Even two years after
this, being in Richmond on a communion-Sunday, I assisted the
Rector, Dr. Buchanan, in the old church, when only two gentlemen
and a few ladies communed. One of these gentlemen, the
elder son of Judge Marshall, was a resident in the upper country.
One of the old clergy who was present did approach to the chancel
with a view of partaking; but his habits were so bad and so
notorious, that he was motioned by the Rector not to come. Indeed,
it was believed that he was not in a sober state at the time.

Before proceeding further in the narrative of such circumstances
as may tend to throw light on the condition of the Church in Virginia,
I will, at the risk of being charged with even more of egotism
than has already been displayed, make a few remarks, which,
I think, are necessary to a right understanding of the whole subject
I have taken in hand. So low and hopeless was the state of the
Church at this time—the time of my ordination—but a few of the
old clergy even attempting to carry on the work—only one person
for a long time having been ordained by Bishop Madison, and he
from a distance, and a most unworthy one—it created surprise, and
was a matter of much conversation, when it was understood that a
young Virginian had entered the ministry of the Episcopal Church.
Even some years after this, when I applied to Judge Marshall for
a subscription to our Theological Seminary, though he gave with
his accustomed liberality, he could not refrain from saying, that it
was a hopeless undertaking, and that it was almost unkind to induce
young Virginians to enter the Episcopal ministry, the Church being
too far gone ever to be revived. Such was the general impression
among friends and foes. I had, however, throughout the State
many most respectable and influential relatives, some still rich,
others of fallen fortunes, both on my father's and mother's side,[7]
who were still attached to the Church. My parents, too, were
very popular persons, and had many friends and acquaintances
throughout Virginia, who still lingered around the old Church.
These things caused my ordination to excite a greater interest, and
created a partiality in behalf of my future ministry. But still
there were many who thought it so strange a proceeding, that they
were ready to accept, as a probable mode of accounting for it, an

opinion expressed by one or more and soon put in circulation, that
there was something unsound in mind or eccentric in character, at
any rate a want of good common sense, or I could not make such
a mistake as to attach myself to the fallen and desperate fortunes
of the old Church. Some strange speeches of this kind were made.
Nor were they or their effects confined to Virginia, or to that time.
I am not sure that their influence has ceased to the present day.
One good, however, resulted from them, namely, that certain views
of religion and certain modes of life adopted by me and contrary
to what were supposed to be the doctrines of the Episcopal Church
—certainly, contrary to the sentiments and practice of the people
—were ascribed to this natural defect and kindly dealt with, instead
of awakening hostility which, under other circumstances, might
have been exhibited. Certain it is that my ministry, from the first,
was received with a favour which neither my imperfect theological
education nor my most unfinished sermons nor any thing else
about me were entitled to. Under such favour, I commenced my
ministry in the spring of 1811, in Frederick county, as assistant
to Mr. Balmaine, in the two congregations belonging to his charge,
while living and labouring on a small farm, and having no design or
wish to go elsewhere. But in the fall of that year I consented to
the very urgent solicitations of the vestry of old Christ Church,
Alexandria, to take charge of it, with the privilege of spending a
portion of the year in Frederick and not entirely relinquishing my
engagements there. Very peculiar were the circumstances of that
congregation, and very strong the appeal, or I should not have
been moved to undertake even the partial and temporary charge of
it. Its last minister was from the West Indies, and after having
married in Alexandria was found to have left a wife behind him.
On her pursuing and reaching him he fled, and I believe was heard
of no more. His predecessor was of an unhappy temper and too
much given to the intoxicating cup. His predecessor again was
one of the old-fashioned kind in his preaching and habits, being
fond of what was called good company and the pleasures of the
table. In order to insure full and frequent meetings of the vestrymen—twelve
in number and, for the most part, good livers—he got
them to meet once per month at each others' houses to dinner.
These meetings continued until after I took charge of the congregation.
I was present at one of them. The old minister who had
established them was also there, being on a visit. He then lived
in a distant parish. It was not difficult to perceive why such
vestry-meetings were popular with certain ministers and vestrymen.
I attended no more of them, and they were soon relinquished.
That a congregation having had three such ministers in
succession should be desirous to try a young Virginian was not
very wonderful. I should be guilty, however, if I did not pursue
the history of the ministers of Christ Church further back. The
next in order of time past was the good Dr. Griffith, of whom I
have already spoken, as the first Bishop-elect of Virginia, but who
was prevented by poverty from going to England for consecration.
His predecessor was Lord Bryan Fairfax, of whom I have something
to say in another place. He was a pure and conscientious
man, the friend and neighbour of General Washington, and a true
Englishman. He attempted, in a series of private letters, which
one of his children showed me and which have since been published,
to dissuade Washington from engaging in or pursuing the
war. General Washington dealt very tenderly with him in his
replies, knowing how conscientious he was, and being much attached
to him and the elder Lord Fairfax with whom he had lived.
There was associated with Mr. Fairfax the Rev. Mr. Page, who
afterward moved to Shepherdstown, and of whom I have heard
that venerable old lady, Mrs. Shepherd, speak in the highest terms
as an evangelical man of the school of Whitefield.

A few remarks on my ministry during the two years of its
exercise in Alexandria may serve to cast some light on the progress
of the Church in Virginia from that time. 1st. The old
Virginia custom of private baptisms, christening-cake, and merriment,
had prevailed in Alexandria. The ground, however, was
now taken that the rubric was entirely opposed to this and that
the whole meaning and design of the sacred rite forbade it and
that it could not be continued. There were demurrings and refusals
for a time, but a little decision with kind persuasion completely
triumphed, as they did afterward at a later period both in Norfolk
and Petersburg, where private baptisms were made to give place to
public ones, when I had the temporary charge of these two congregations,
peculiar circumstances inducing me to undertake it.
2dly. The Gospel, it is to be feared, had not been clearly preached
in times past. It was now attempted; and, though most imperfectly
done as to style and manner, God's blessing was granted.
The services were well attended. Many were added to the Church
of such as gave good proof afterward that they would be of those
who should be saved. A goodly number of the members of Congress
often came down on Sunday morning to attend the church,

among whom were Mr. John Randolph[8] and Dr. Milnor, with
both of whom I became then and thus acquainted. In the mind
of the latter there was at that time going on the great change
whose abundant fruits have so blessed mankind. 3d. It was during
my stay in Alexandria that I procured from the library of Mr.
Custis, of Arlington, the folio edition of Bishop Wilson's works,
which had been presented to General Washington by the son of
Bishop Wilson, and which works had been recommended to me by
Bishop Madison. By the help of Mr. Edward McGuire, who, for
more than forty-two years, has been the faithful and successful
minister of the Church in Fredericksburg, and who was then preparing
for the ministry with me, I selected from the various parts
of that large book, a small volume of private and family prayers,
which have gone through three editions, and which, being freely
circulated among the families of Virginia, contributed greatly to
introduce what was indeed a novelty in that day—the practice of
family worship.[9] It was during my short stay in Alexandria that
the Rev. William Wilmer assumed the charge of St. Paul's congregation,
and at the close of my ministry there that the Rev. Oliver
Norris took charge of Christ Church. These beloved brothers,
coming from Maryland with those views of the Gospel and the
Church which the evangelical clergy and laity of England were
then so zealously and successfully propagating there, contributed
most effectually to the promotion of the same in Virginia, and to
them is justly due much of the subsequent character and success of
the Church in Virginia, as is well known to all of their day. I
cannot take leave of Alexandria without referring to my admission
to priests' orders, which took place there a year or two after this,
and which were conferred on me by Bishop Clagget, of Maryland,
our faithful brother the Rev. Simon Wilmer preaching on the
occasion. Bishop Clagget, so far as I know and believe, entertained
sound views of the Gospel and was a truly pious man.
There was much of the Englishman about him, I presume, from
his wearing the mitre, and his mode of examining me, that conforming
so much to the character of the English University examinations.[10] Beside a number of hard questions in the metaphysics
of divinity, which I was by no means well prepared to answer, but
which he kindly answered for me, he requested that I would, in
compliance with an old English canon, which had been, I think,
incorporated somewhere into our requisitions, give him an account
of my faith in the Latin tongue. Although I was pretty well
versed in the Latin language, yet, being unused to speak it, I
begged him to excuse me. He then said I could take pen and
paper and write it down in his presence; but he was kind enough
to excuse from that also, and determined to ordain me with all my
deficiencies, very much as some other bishops do in this day.