"University of Virginia. T. R. PRICE."

The following is taken from the Minutes of the Virginia Conference, and was written by an old college mate, Dr. J. C. Granbery, now bishop:

"James Armstrong Duncan was born in Norfolk, Va., April 14, 1830. He was dedicated to God from his birth and trained in piety by his father, the venerable David Duncan, who has been prominent through two generations in the education of the youth of the Southern States, and who accepted the chair of Ancient Languages in Randolph-Macon College while James was a child; and by his mother, a woman of saintly character, who preceded her son by a few years to the heavenly land. In his boyhood he was a universal favorite, and displayed the gifts of mind and genial spirit and grace of manner which became so conspicuous in his riper years. We may mention his overflowing humor and gaiety, tempered with a kind and generous nature; and a wonderful power of mimicry, which furnished unbounded amusement to his comrades, and, indeed, to persons of mature age, but was never used to wound in feeling or reputation. In 1847, during one of those gracious revivals with which our church has been signally blessed year after year, he sought and found Jesus. In one of his latest and most effective sermons, he has described his conversion and affirmed that the vow of consecration then made had been the controlling principle of his ministry and the motive of those labors which his brethren sometimes thought excessive.

"He was licensed to preach probably the next year. The people of Mecklenburg still speak of his first sermons, in which they saw the prophecy of his future greatness. Having graduated in June, 1849, he was immediately placed in charge of a society in Alexandria, which had just organized in connection with the Methodist Episcopal Church, South. From that hour his popularity and success as a preacher and pastor began, and they steadily waxed fuller and more lustrous until his death quenched a star than which none shone with a purer and more brilliant radiance in the whole firmament of Methodism. A great revival attended his labors during the few months before the session of our Conference and the prosperity of the church was secured. He was kept on our northern border for nine years, in Fairfax, Leesburg, Alexandria and Washington—everywhere beloved with enthusiasm, everywhere successful in his ministry. Then followed nine years of faithful labor in the city of Richmond. In 1857 he was sent to Trinity, one of our oldest and most important stations. There had come a crisis in the history of that church. Its prosperity was already impaired and seriously threatened by the unfortunate location of the house of worship. The young pastor soon had the building crowded with an eager congregation. The eloquence of his discourses and the charm of his social manners were a theme of general comment throughout the city. Two series of sermons to young men and women proved peculiarly attractive, and resulted in extensive and lasting benefit. He took front rank among the pulpit orators of the land. All denominations flocked to hear him, and delighted in his company and friendship. These honors he bore with modest dignity and consecrated with godly simplicity to the service of the Master. A little band from Trinity determined, under his leadership, to build a handsome and commodious church on Broad street near the Capitol Square. In 1859 he was appointed to this new charge, and preached in a rented hall until the church was completed. It was dedicated in March, 1861, and, with the exception of two years, he continued in pastoral charge until the Conference of 1866. All this time his influence widened and deepened. He was a power in that city. When it became the capital of the Confederate States, and was crowded with representatives from all parts of the South, his faithful, spiritual, eloquent preaching entranced, edified, encouraged, and impressed with a saving efficacy an untold multitude, whose number eternity must reveal. No man in our day has accomplished more for Methodism or for the cause of Christ in the capital of Virginia than James A. Duncan.

"In addition to his pastorate, he edited the Richmond Christian Advocate from the fall of 1860 to the fall of 1866. With characteristic generosity he did this work without money and price—a free-will offering to the church, except the two years he devoted his whole time to the paper. The readiness and versatility of his talents were admirably shown in this office, for, with many other claims upon his time, he wrote not only the editorials, but much of the most popular and enjoyable correspondence with which the Advocate was enriched during those years. Great curiosity was aroused to find out the anonymous authors of series of letters published in the paper; but few, if any, suspected that they came from the fertile brain of the editor.

"Two years he was pastor of the Washington-Street Church, in Petersburg. Such men as D'Arcy Paul loved to speak of the rich spiritual feasts on which he fed them from the pulpit, and the no less precious influence of his pastoral visits. In that city he suffered a severe spell of nervous fever, his first illness since childhood.

"This brings us to a third era of nine years in his eventful life. After the war Randolph-Macon College re-opened and feebly struggled for life. Dr. Duncan was among the strongest advocates of its removal from Boydton to Ashland. The Board of Trustees resolved on this critical movement in the summer of 1868. The Faculty resigned, and an election was held to fill the vacant places. Dr. Duncan was unanimously chosen President. He signified promptly a disposition to accept the responsible post, but demanded a few days in which to carry the question in private prayer to the God whose he was and whom he served. Repeatedly and emphatically he declared the singleness of purpose with which he entered on this office, and that he would not remain one day in it if it were not for the conviction that he was thereby serving most efficiently the church of Christ.

"No one who knew the man doubted his sincerity and simplicity of aim. He never sought self. He was indifferent to wealth in a degree which some even censured as extreme. He served not ambition. The esteem and approval of good men he must have prized, but never, so far as we know, did he exhibit any undue concern about such things. He belonged to Christ, and to the church for Christ's sake. He went in the courage of faith and the spirit of consecration to the College, and devoted himself to the duties in the chair of Moral Philosophy and in the presidency. The halls were filled with a larger number of students than had ever sought its advantages in its palmiest days before the war. He governed by his personal influence, by the love and confidence with which he inspired the young men, and diligence and good behavior were the rule with rare exceptions.

"The reputation of the institution for a high grade of scholarship and thoroughness of culture was inferior to that of no other college in the land. Young preachers, often numbering more than forty in a single session, sat under his special lectures in theology, and were moulded by his example and his teaching. With the authority of a prophet, with the gentleness of a father, he preached to the students, week after week, the word of life, and saw many of them accept with glad heart the yoke and burden of Christ. In private they revealed to him all that was in their hearts, and sought his sympathy and counsel. In public, whatever the occasion on which he spoke, they hung breathless on his lips, and received what he said as if from an angel of God. Those who have attended the Commencements can bear witness to the outgushing of love, the wise and noble utterances, the manly frankness and boldness, and the tenderness, almost motherly, with which he bade those young men farewell in unstudied words of genuine eloquence, and the beaming faces, the streaming eyes, the thunders of applause with which they responded. Nor were these his only labors. Often during the sessions he hurried off to preach in city or country at the call of the churches of the Virginia and Baltimore Conferences, or in order to raise money for the College. The summer vacation was no rest to him, but his busiest period. Incessantly he travelled through the two Conferences, speaking on Christian education, and speaking at District Conferences, at protracted and camp-meetings. He was in labors more abundant, not sparing himself, never reluctant to help in any good work. Everywhere he was sought, everywhere he was welcome. Thousands ascribe to him, under God, their first impulse to serve Christ, their revival from a lukewarm and languishing state, or their fuller consecration and seeking of a higher spiritual life. We may safely affirm that no man of his own generation has so powerfully impressed the religious character of an equal number within the bounds of these two Conferences as James A. Duncan. He was elected to the General Conferences of 1866, 1870, and 1874. That of 1870 he did not attend, his duties at the College not allowing his absence. He lacked only a few votes to be chosen bishop at that session, several delegates of this body, who held him in high admiration, and thought him in every way worthy of the honor, withholding their votes because they believed him essential to Randolph-Macon College. From that time the mind of the whole church turned to him as the fittest person to be elected to the episcopacy. In 1876 he attended the General Conference of the Methodist Episcopal Church as one of three fraternal messengers from our General Conference, and his address on that occasion was marked by its catholic spirit, fervent love for Christ, and grand and thrilling eloquence.

"In the summer of 1874, exhausted by ceaseless toil of travel and preaching, and exposed to a malarial atmosphere at a camp-meeting, he was seized with a fever, which took a typhoid phase, and he lay for weeks at the point of death. For one year he was scarcely fit for any work, and though he afterwards rallied and resumed his course of untiring labors, the seeds of disease lurked in his system, and often developed in severe spells of sickness; yet he worked on, cheerful, energetic, consumed with zeal. The past summer he spoke and preached with an ardor, power, and success equal to his happiest efforts in the years of his vigorous health. Sunday, September the 9th, he was in Baltimore, to preach at the re-opening of Trinity, and this he did, in the forenoon with great power, despite intense physical pain. On his return to Ashland it was found that his jawbone was decayed, and poison diffused throughout his frame. Erysipelas attacked his face. His sufferings were great, but borne with patience and sweetness. He sat up, however, a part of each day, and seemed not to suspect that his end drew near. Monday morning, the 24th, he fell asleep in Jesus.