MEMORIAL SERMON,

PREACHED IN THE

Church of the Ascension, Philadelphia,

March 2, 1902,

BY

The Rector, Rev. George Woolsey Hodge, M.A.,

Chaplain of the Pennsylvania Society of Sons of the Revolution.

On the Occasion of the Unveiling of a Mural Tablet in Memory of Major James Edward Carpenter.

*

"These stones shall be for a memorial."-Jos. iv, part of 7th verse.

From the earliest times men have ever sought to perpetuate the memory of persons to whom they were particularly attached, or of events which they considered of great interest or importance. Far back in the time of the patriarch Jacob, we find him setting up one of the boulders he had used for a pillow on the lone mountain top, pouring oil upon it to consecrate it as a memorial of the wondrous vision which had been vouchsafed him there as he went forth an exile from his native land. So in my text we find Joshua setting up the stones on which the priests' feet had stood when the passage of the Jordan was effected by the Israelites, which permanently established them in the land of promise, as a perpetual memorial of that event. The same thing was done by other nations. The old world is full of obelisks and columns and pyramids, tablets and temples, erected to keep alive through succeeding generations the memory of victories or deliverances or personages, which the men of their time thought should never be forgotten. It is true they have only partially succeeded. The resistless waves of time have overthrown or buried in oblivion many of these monuments, and all we have left often are broken fragments bearing signs or letters no longer decipherable, or the

record of names or deeds belonging to the long-forgotten past. Yet it is of such things that history is made. One such tablet or fragment of stone with only a sign or a few letters upon it, which has withstood the sand blast of centuries, may give a clue or establish the authenticity of an event, which is of supreme importance to mankind. And how touching they are. How do they prove that all men from the earliest times to the present are akin with the same feelings, affections and emotions? How do they manifest that absolutely universal craving of the human race after an immortality of some kind?

This tendency is especially seen, and is especially affecting, as it manifests itself in efforts to keep alive the memory of persons whom men have esteemed or loved. It is seen in the tombs of Egypt and Assyria, in the rock-hewn graves of Palestine, in the catacombs of Rome, the Campo Santos of Italy, the Pantheon of Paris, Westminster Abbey in England, in the thousands of cathedrals and parish churches and innumerable church yards and cemeteries crowded with monuments of all sorts and descriptions, tributes of affection and efforts to prolong the influence of lives loved or revered. They have not always been successful, as I have said, but they are intensely human, they are beautiful, they are pathetic. Even to look upon them warms our hearts and moves our sympathies. And in many instances when they bear the record of noble lives and heroic deeds, they act as an inspiration and incentive whose influence may last for centuries at least.

And there is to my mind a peculiar fitness in such memorials being placed in churches. Not only are they better preserved and more frequently seen than if buried in distant cemeteries only casually visited by a few, but they serve to hallow the church, while the church hallows the monument. The thoughts they suggest of the tale of human lives so quickly told and ended will add force and solemnity to our acts of worship and meditation in God's house, and the thoughts that house suggests as to the character and purposes of God and as to how men ought to live, are the thoughts we should have as we gaze on these mementoes of the dead.

As the Rector of this parish therefore I rejoice that in a church, which has been erected only some sixteen years, there are already no less than thirty such memorials in its windows, walls or furniture, bearing the names of those who were once worshippers within its walls or dear to those who have belonged here. And I especially welcome this additional tablet which is exposed to view to-day for the first time, erected by friends and associates of the late James Edward Carpenter, who was so long and intimately connected with this parish, so that his name at least, as it is no longer possible to have his presence, may still be associated with it.

The occasion of the unveiling of this tablet has been fitly embraced by the Society of Sons of the Revolution, of which Major Carpenter was one of the founders, and at the time of his death first Vice-President and Chairman of the Board of Managers, to hold this memorial service. Dying as he did and his funeral taking place far from this city, it was not possible for any of his friends here to testify their respect for him by being present. The members of the Society, therefore, as I am sure also those of you who are its guests to-day, are glad of this opportunity of showing appreciation of one who was so generally popular and whose life was of such real value to this community. As Chaplain of the Society and Rector of this Church, and one intimately associated with Major Carpenter for thirty years, I have been asked to speak on this occasion. I trust I shall say no word that is fulsome or overdrawn, but simply tell you the story of a good and true life, whose too soon ending we all so deeply deplore.

James Edward Carpenter came of an ancestory distinguished in various ways in this Commonwealth. The first member of the family who came to this country was Samuel Carpenter, the first Treasurer of Pennsylvania, member of the Provincial Council, etc., the intimate friend of William Penn and one of the Trustees of his estate. He was at one time esteemed the richest man in Pennsylvania. It was to his brother, Joshua Carpenter, who was a Churchman, that by a singular coincidence the property on Second Street, above Market, on which old Christ Church

stands, with which parish Major Carpenter's family was so long connected, was deeded as Trustee and it stands in his name to this day.

Thomas Carpenter, great-grandson of Samuel, and great-grandfather of Major Carpenter, was ensign, paymaster and quartermaster of the New Jersey line during the Revolutionary War, from March, 1777, to the close of the war, serving at Trenton and Princeton. It was from him that Major Carpenter derived his title to membership in the Society of Sons of the Revolution. In the female line he was descended from Thomas Lloyd, of Dolobran in Wales, a seat which had been in that family since 1476. The grandmother of Thomas Lloyd was a legitimate descendant of King Edward I of England. He, with William Penn, was among the first converts to Quakerism and emigrated to this country in 1683, and was made by Penn Master of the Rolls and afterwards first Governor of Pennsylvania. He was also descended in this line from Samuel Preston, who was Mayor of Philadelphia in 1711 and Provincial Treasurer from 1714 for nearly thirty years. He also was a Trustee under William

Penn's will.

By these antecedents Major Carpenter was entitled to the first social position in this community. And though afterwards his family removed to New Jersey and were absent for a long time, he regained this position for himself by his own personal qualifications.

James Edward Carpenter was born March 6, 1841, in Kent County, Maryland, where his parents were temporarily residing. They returned soon after to Philadelphia. Here he received his early education, completing it in an excellent school in Pottsville, Pa., after which he began the study of law in the office of the late Theodore Cuyler of this city. While thus engaged the Civil War broke out and on March 17, 1862, a few days after his twenty-first birthday, he enlisted as a private in the Eighth Pennsylvania Cavalry. He was soon after promoted to Second Lieutenant and on the following August was commissioned First Lieutenant. In December, 1863, he was made Captain and afterwards was brevetted Major United States Volunteers for