I knew him well, and loved him much. When the melancholy intelligence of his death was announced in St. Peter's Church, on the Sunday before the last, by its worthy Rector, the Rev. Dr. Smith, it was done in a manner calculated in itself to move and excite the Christian sympathies of the congregation. A family in deep affliction desired the prayers of the Church-their beloved head, their affectionate and devoted husband and father, had sickened and died in a foreign land-far removed from the sympathies and kind attentions of family and friends, while on his return to that family and those friends—an event by which the Church in this Diocese has been deprived of a faithful son, and its ministry of a devoted, affectionate, and well-beloved brother, the Rev. Dr. Bayard. Oh, sir, up to the moment of pronouncing the name, that of my valued friend, Dr. Bayard, never came into my mind. My sympathies were running out, I knew not whither-but what a revulsion! Most truly can I say, sir, that never-no, never-since the death of our late lamented and never to be forgotten diocesan, Bishop Hobart, did such a torrent of emotion-such a flood of feeling overwhelm my heart. Until then, I knew not how much, how deeply and sincerely I was attached to him. I think, sir, I may say with truth, that it was perhaps more my privilege to be frequently and most intimately associated with our deceased friend, than any other lay gentleman belonging to our different societies and associations. Often have I acted with him on special occasions-on committees to which had been referred the consideration of subjects and business involving sound church principles and pure Christian doctrine and most truly can I say, Mr. President,

that on no such occasion have I ever found him untrue or unfaithful in either of those particulars-let him once be fully satisfied of the truth or justness of any proposition, tested by the sound and evangelical principles of the Church, and no man proceeded in his course of duty with more unflinching firmness— more undeviating consistency-with more honesty and directness of purpose. Thus honest, frank, and sincere, he could not fail, and, sir, he did not fail, to secure to himself my warmest friendship, my highest regard, my most cordial esteem, for the Christian simplicity and moral integrity of his character. But I will not attempt to sketch the character of the deceased: my worthy friend, Dr. M'Vickar, in the remarks with which he has favored the meeting, has presented a portrait true and faithful, not only in its general outlines, but so strikingly and minutely just and accurate in the delineation of every feature thereof that the attempt on my part would be presumptuous, and would but mar the beauty of the delightful picture he has drawn, with the admirable skill and ability of a master's hand. I will not,

therefore, be thus presumptuous. Well do I know, Mr. President, that in seconding the resolutions now submitted to the meeting, I do but perform an ordinary and formal duty-a duty required by the orderly usages of business. But, sir, if when you put the ordinary question required by the same usage, Are these resolutions seconded? could you have read the hearts of those present, you would have found there a warm, spontaneous and unanimous affirmative response, gushing up in each and every one of them-for they too, the persons here present, have known him long, esteemed him highÎy, loved him well, and have been for many years

associated with him in carrying forward the benevolent designs of our institutions, and of promoting, through their agency and instrumentality, the great interests of the Church, and of the Christian religion, which, in the judgment of our deceased friend, were ever inseparably connected with the Church. From the expression of that warm response, by the unanimous adoption of the resolutions, I will not longer detain them.

The resolutions were passed unanimously.

The meeting then having united in singing the 124th hymn, joined the Bishop in prayer, and re

ceived his benediction.

Adjourned sine die.

BENJAMIN T. ONDERDONK, Chairman.

(Attest) JOHN STEARNS, Secretary.

FROM THE CHURCHMAN.

THE REV. DR. BAYARD.

Shortly after his ordination, the Rev. Dr. Bayard was chosen Rector of Trinity Church, New Rochelle, and St. Thomas' Church, Mamaroneck; and it was during his pastoral charge, that a congregation was gathered in the church erected in Mamaroneck, which was consecrated in the summer of 1823, by the Right Rev. Bishop Hobart. The following tribute to his memory is an extract from a sermon delivered on the first Sunday of the present year, by the Rev. Mr. Curtis, who now occupies the early scene of Dr. Bayard's pastoral labors, and numbers among his parishioners not a few by whom the memory of their former pastor is affectionately cherished. The admonitory lessons which never fail to cluster around the expiration of one, and the

commencement of another year, return this season with a deeper shade, from some touching recollections connected with our early history as a Church.

"It is now about eighteen years since this house was dedicated to the worship of Almighty God; and He placed his name to dwell here. Those whose piety and zeal contributed most liberally and essentially to the erection of this edifice, have gone to offer their praise and homage in a far nobler temple, and so also he, the zealous and devoted minister who first officiated at this altar, and led your devotions as a pastor, has been taken to the upper sanctuary. It was not my happiness to be acquainted with the Rev. Dr. Bayard, but the affecting circumstances attending his late death on a distant seahis praise so widely diffused among the churchesand his merits, so readily confessed wherever he was known-adding to the circumstance, that you were organized as a Society, and erected this church during his ministrations, rendered it proper that I should pay a passing tribute to his worth, and add a stone to that monument which all are emulous to build to his name. After officiating here and at New Rochelle for more than two years, with what fidelity you can testify-he went to Geneseo, in the western part of this diocese, and was there equally useful in extending the Church. Shortly afterwards we hear of him in a spiritually destitute portion of the city of New York, and that his untiring labors and active piety, and amiable qualities, had there drawn around him a numerous and attached congregation. They also erect a church to the Most High, and with such exemplary diligence did he devote himself to his charge, that I have heard it said, that for twelve years he was never absent from

his duties half as many Sundays. Such fidelity met with a grateful return from his parishioners, and they gratified a wish which he had long indulged, in giving him the time and means to visit those countries in the east, whose memory has been embalmed in the pages of the Bible, and whose soil has been consecrated by the feet of Jesus Christ, and by patriarchs and prophets, apostles and martyrs. He first sailed for England, as the land where the Gospel, most "truly preached, truly received, and truly followed," exercises her design and legitimate influence. Having seen the land where the church is emphatically "the pillar and ground of the truth," the "chiefest witness and keeper of holy writ," he embarked for the country of the Pharaohs; intending, after witnessing the customs, and examining the crumbling and time-worn monuments which strew the borders of the Nile, to travel in the path of Moses and the Israelites, to the Holy Land. After he had kindled his devotions at Mount Calvary, and sublimed and purified his affections on the sight of the temple, which had been hallowed by a "greater than Solomon," after visiting Bethlehem, Nazareth, and Galilee, and dipping his hands in the Jordan, and thus gratifying the most natural impulses of faith, and the most laudable feelings of the Christian, he set out for his family, the home of his affections, "most anxious to be with his people before Christmas." But a hidden fever was lurking in his veins he was enfeebled with fatigue and hardships. He embarked at Beyrout, at the head of the Mediterranean Sea, with a malady increasing upon him; and alone, untended, with no friend to soothe his care-worn spirits; no well-known faces to cheer him by their presence, unless, perchance, his