Address at the Centenary of St. Paul's Church, Norwalk, Conn.

stood as firmly, and was as plainly seen as a marble palace upon its founda- tions. The beauties of his sermon were beauties of proportion and adapta- tion— not artificial ornaments and flowers of speech. You were not carried off in a balloon of rhetoric, or on a cloud of rainbow beauties : but you had gone with him step by step, up the mountain side, you knew every foot of the ascent, and you could look where he pointed, far above the petty pursuits of life, to the pinnacles of faith and duty. How sublimely he celebrated the ordinances and sacraments of the church. If you have seen him by the sick bed of your dying children, as I have seen him beside mine in the very ante-chamber of death, stretching out his arms repeating the solemn ser- vice: ‘We receive this child into the congregation of Christ’s flock, and do sign her with the sign of the cross;’ if you have clung to him for consolation when your wife and children, in the chamber of another dying child, were trembling and crying around you, and your own heart strings were breaking with grief; if you have gone with him, been led, sustained and supported by him to the grave of some dear one gone before you; if you have heard from him, ‘I am the resurrection and the life.’ ‘Earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust,’ if you have followed him through such scenes, then cherish the memory of them in your hearts; you will never know the like again.” *Born in Greenwich, Conn, October 26, 1795; studied with Rev. Dr. Barry; ordained deacon by Bishop Croes in Christ’s church, New Brunswick, N. J., January 6, 1824, and priest in 1825, by Bishop Hobart, of New York. He offici- ated in Christ church, Mamaroneck; was rector of Grace church, White Plains, 1824-6 and of Christ church, Reading, Penn., for a few months, and of Trinity church, Philadelphia, 1826-36, and of St. Paul’s, Norwalk, from 1836 to 1879. He died suddenly on Thursday, July 17th, 1879, (the anniver- sary of the death in 1836 of his former valued friend and counsellor, Rt. Rev. William White) at a little after 5 o’clock in the afternoon. At a later hour the bell in St. Paul’s tower tolled slowly his age, and as the tones were borne solemnly out upon the evening air, announced to the people that their aged rector and pastor and friend had departed. A meeting of the wardens and vestry was summoned, and suitable action taken. The church was draped with mourning and the funeral appointed for Wednesday of the following week. The Bishop of the diocese spent the Sunday intervening in the par- ish, and spake feelingly and eloquently to the bereaved flock. During the morning of Wednesday, July 23d, the remains were seen by the Sunday school of St. Paul’s and by many friends and visitors, and the funeral took place in the church at two o’clock that afternoon. It was attended by the Bishop of the diocese with a large number of the clergy, and by parishioners and citizens in general. The committal office was read in the church and a few collects at the tomb. “ Thou shalt come to thy grave in a full age, like as a shock of corn com- et h in its season .” Calendar lesson at evening prayer for July ijth. Mrs. Dr. Mead, (Miss Maria Harlan, of Philadelphia) was an invalid during the latter portion of her life, and confined to the parsonage, and much of the time to her room. At a previous period and before her sickness, she was active, and especially among those who did not drink freely of the cup of life’s comforts, and who keenly appreciated her delicate services of Chris- tian sympathy and kindness. She died several years before her husband, in April, 1875, and is buried in the Mead family tomb, a few feet south of the church portals, but has by no means dropped out of the memory of those who knew concerning her goodness and usefulness. Two of Dr. Mead’s daughters survive him, Mrs. Samuel Tiffany, of Newark. N. J., and Miss Jane Maria Mead, of Norwalk. Another daughter, the late Mrs. B. E. Staats, is buried in St. Paul’s yard, and another, Mrs. Theodore Mead, is interred in Greenwich. The subjoined is an extract from Dr. Mead’s Twenty-Fifth Anniversary discourse, delivered in St. Paul’s church on Sunday morning, July 7th, 1861, and as a reminder of the solemnity of his composition, and the strong sense of his writings, and the sound doctrine which rang out so clearly in his preaching, it will not, it is thought, be unacceptable to those to whom his memory, in relation to these particulars, is such a treasure. His text was 22 was on the 14tli of the same month — a half century ago yesterday — accepted. Dr. Mead was a strong man; a man of energy and ability, and of clear vision and quick perception of that which was feasible and practicable. He possessed singular administrative wisdom, and as from the words, “For we are unto God a sweet savor of Christ, in them that are saved and in them that perish. To the one we are a savor of death unto death, and to the other the savor of life unto life.” And he had just been dwelling upon what the parish had accomplished since his coming to it in 1836, when, in bringing the address to a conclusion, he thus remarks : “But, brethren, this steady stream of prosperity is not without its sad memories and solemn warnings. Within the past 25 years nearly 600 funer- als have been attended by your rector, or by those who represented and as- sisted him in this parish. Nearly 600 times in the aggregate has ‘Earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust.’ been pronounced over the mortal re- mains of some of your relatives, friends and acquaintances. ‘Your fathers, where are they?’ Of the aged and middle aged who greeted me at my coming to this parish, but few now survive. The tomb, the green hillock which marks their graves sadly reminds us that they are gone, that the place which once knew them, will know them no more; and that soon their fate will be ours. Of the four parishioners who, as the committee of this society invited me to be your rector, three now sleep with their fathers, and one alone re- mains. Amid all this havoc of death, the occupants of your parsonage have been singularly preserved. Of the houses which stood around the green and near the church and parsonage-lot when I came here, not one but has given its trophy to death. I have often stood on my lawn and mused on the changes wrought by time, and thought of departed friends and neighbors, and been startled when I had numbered them, to find that some seventy, within the call of my voice, had been removed by death, and yet those whom the parsonage roof tree sheltered remained unscathed. Loudly has this fact admonished your rector that, ‘whatsoever his hand findeth to do, for Christ and the Church, should be done with his might.’ May the solemn voices of the dead excite us, who must soon follow them into the spirit world, to devote our short remnant of life to glorify God by doing good in our day and generation. One more topic, brethren, and I close. Within 25 years, 3,775 sermons have been delivered in this place; 2,717 by myself, and the rest by clergymen of the church who have assisted me. It is a solemn fact that the religious instructions so extensively offered and so variously received have already had their effect for good or evil on their hearers. For we may rest assured that, whether, under the preaching of the Gospel, men will fear and improve, or forbear and harden their hearts, God’s word, proclaimed by his ministers, will not return unto Him void; it will accomplish that for which He hath sent it; either to secure the salvation of those who improve it, or to justify the condemnation of such as disregard it. ‘For we are unto God a sweet saviour of Christ in them that are saved and in them that perish : to the one we are the saviour of death unto death, and to the other the saviour of life unto life.’ It is God’s design, ‘by the foolishness of preaching to save them that believe’ and obey. It is His design through the faithfulness of preaching to vindicate all his attributes when he shall bring us into judgment, and fix the portion of each for eternity. Here the great fact will be shown that every one who perishes has been his own destroyer, seeing he has had deliverance placed within his reach, and might have grasped it if he would. If then, brethren, it be true that you cannot be neutral under the preaching of the Gospel, if it be true that every sermon you hear will either benefit or injure you, how carefully and earnestly should your minister preach, and how thoughtfully and prayerfully should you ‘take heed how ye hear.’ Many years have I spoken to attentive ears and generous hearts, to minds alive to appreciate the truths of the doctrine uttered, and to approve the forensic skill and eloquence with which it may have been presented. But, ah, brethren, the great question for each to settle is, has the word preached as yet proved to my soul a savor of life unto life, or risen to God against me as a savor of death unto death ? We must deliver our message however men may receive it. We dare not keep it back. We tell you that it is only by repentance and faith and obedience that you can hope to escape the wrath to come. ‘ We pray you in Christ stead be ye reconciled unto God.’ We set before the thoughtless and unconverted the only alternative that can be proposed ; either forsake sin,