USA > New York > Erie County > Buffalo > Manual, catalogue and history of the Lafayette St. Presbyterian Church of Buffalo, N.Y. > Part 24
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My brother, your brother, filled up to the full the gospel idea of a Christian. He was a rare combination of the beauties of childhood and the glories of man- hood. Sweet, simple, docile, and confiding as the one, and strong, and steadfast, and brave, and magnanimous as the other. The mountain with all its loftiness and grandeur. The valley with all its beauty and repose. How often he made us think of the One who is dearest of all, and it is saying a great deal for a man when you say that he reminds you of Christ. So gentle, so condescending, so delicate, so winning in his ways, and yet at the same time, a man that you could look to, that you could lean on, that you could trust in ; a man to whom you could tell that story which you would hardly dare to trust to your own ear. O, no one who knew him was ever under the necessity of drinking his wormwood alone. " There is a friend, it is said, that sticketh closer than a brother," and may I not apply the words to the one who has gone away and taken so much of the light of this world with him. I counted his friendship as one of the felicities, as one of the great mercies of my life. To have known him, to have been loved by him, to have been taken into his confidence-should I not thank God for it as long as I live ?
Did you ever have a seat at his table? Did you ever spend a night under his roof? Then you know what that word hospitality means. He entertained every guest, not as if he might be, but as if he was an angel, as if he had come from another world to see him. Scarcely, if ever, have I met a man so interesting, so lovely, so fascinating in social life. The angels, you know, dearly beloved, carry their own light with them. It is never dark where an angel is. I have heard of an angel in a prison, and it was night, but there was no darkness there. I have heard of an angel in the cabin of a ship in the stormy Adriatic, and it was night, but there was do darkness there ; I have heard of an angel in a sepulcher, and it was sealed, and a great stone had been rolled against the door, and the shadows of the darkest night man ever knew had fallen on the earth, but there was no dark- ness there. So it was with my brother ; it was never dark where he was. With that radiant face, that cheery voice, and that heart always too full of love to hold it all, it was never dark where he went.
And what he was under his own roof-tree, to his own family, I should need the language of Canaan to tell you that. I had almost asked, was there ever such a husband? Was there ever such a father? Was there ever such a son? Was there ever such a brother ? But I feel as if I were standing here on the threshold of the holiest of all, as if it would be presumption in me to lift the veil and let you look in. And what a passion our dear departed brother had for souls. I use that word passion, because if you knew him as I knew him, no other words will suit you. Brother, how far could you go to save a soul? We know how far the Master has gone. We know how far the martyrs have gone. We know how far the missionaries have gone. I could tell you one who became a leper, of another who sold himself into slavery, of another who actually starved to death in his earnest endeavor to bring the lost sheep back. And how far, dear brethren, would you go? Here lies a man who would have died to save a soul, and died as his Master died. I believe that this passion for souls shortened his days. His zeal consumed him. When he thought of those who had been entrusted to his care, and for whom he must answer in the judgment he was almost beside himself. He could say with one of old, "give me souls or I die." What shall I say to this
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bereaved Church. He was everything to you, dear friends, that a man could be- everything that an eloquent preacher and a faithful pastor could be. O, it was a great thing to be one of his flock, to be under his pastoral care, to have a place in his prayers, to wait on his ministry ; a great thing siniply to see from Sabbath to Sabbath that manly and majestic form. How thankful I am that you appreciate the great gift, that you gave him the warmest place in your hearts, that you loved him as scarcely any man in this Empire State was ever loved. You would not consent to have the tie which bound him to you, and you to him, sev- ered. You loved him to the end, and more and more to the end. Wliat a comfort now to know that he was your Pastor to the very last, that he died your Pastor, that he is now your Pastor, your Pastor in heaven, and that as one by one you reach your Father's house, he will be waiting at the door to give you a Pastor's welcome. I love you as I do my own dear flock, and because you were so kind and true to him. And may I remind you that the best tribute you can pay to his memory, that which he will feel the most, is to heed his counsels, is to walk in his steps, and become as much like the Master as he sought to make you. No matter how much you may be favored and blessed for the time to come, the best part of your patri- mony will be the memory of that dear man gone. The mourning for any brotlier in this congregation and in this community is like the mourning of Hadadluminda in the valley of Megiddon ; like the mourning for the good King Josiah-every family mourns apart, and their wives apart ; the eyes of the little children are red with weeping.
I have asked the Lord to give me a word for those who sat under the ministry of that saint made perfect, and are still out of Christ. You, dear friends, have more to meet than most men have. It is the lot of but few to listen to such a preacher ; to such thrilling appeals and those bursts of eloquence which sometimes almost made you doubt whether it could be a man who brought the message. Shall those words, shall those tears, shall those tender tones-shall all those sermons and all those exhortations rise against you in the judgment? Dear friends, next to meeting the rejected Son of God, you have nothing so much to dread, if you die in sin, as meeting that beloved friend, who wore himself out in trying to save you. And how he loved this city-the city of his birth, the city of his childhood, the city of his manhood-where he spent the whole of his ministry, which no inducements could entice him to leave-the city for which he had done as much as any other man that God had ever given a home here; the place of his father's sepulchre, where his godly mother-O, how he loved her-sleeps in Jesus, and the boy, whose going away all but broke his heart, is waiting until the day dawns. How he loved this city ! Its very dust was dear to him. Hopkins is gone, Clark is gone, Lord is gone, Heacock is gone ! Few cities have had such men to lose. Their lives are the brightest page of your history ; their memories the richest part of your patrimony.
I have felt all the way through this discourse, dear friends, as if I could not go too far-as if I could not say too much, as if I could not make him more than he was. If I have gone too far, charge it to the great love which I bore him-say that my heart misled me. "I am distressed for thee, my brother ; very pleasant hast thou been unto me. Thy love for me was wonderful, passing the love of woman. How are the mighty fallen and the weapons of war perished." I cannot say-I will not say-never more shall I take thee by the hand ; never more shall I look thee in the
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face; never more shall I hear the sound of thy clarion voice ; never more shall I feel the power of thy magnetic presence. I shall meet thee again, and in a better country and in a fairer clime-in that beloved city through whose streets no funeral procession ever creeps slowly along. But O ! it will seem so long first.
And what a going away from the earth-what a setting out for glory it was ! Who calls it death ? who says it was dying? "I need nothing more now but to see the face of God and be at rest." How characteristic-how much like him ! " I need nothing more now but to see the face of God and be at rest !" Dear, dear brother ! Thou hast seen the face of God; thou art at rest. No more wearisome days; no more wakeful nights ; no more watchings of the morning ; no more conflicts with sin ; no more battles with disease ; no more doubts that here can never be dispelled ; no more aspirations that here can never be met. Thou shall hunger no more, neither thirst any more ; neither shall the sun light on thee, nor any heat, for the Lamb that is in the midst of the throne shall feed thee, and shall lead thee unto living fountains of waters; and God shall wipe away-God has wiped away-all tears from thine eyes. "The victory is won, the victory is won." Yes, dear brother, the victory is won-the victory over weakness and infirmity ; the victory over sin, the victory over death, the victory over the grave-the victory is won. Thou hast. received the conqueror's crown, and it is doubly dear because the Lord, the Righteous Judge himself, gave it to thee. " O Christ, O Christ, thou art all that a dying man wants; thy presence can turn the shadow of death into the morning." " Who would not suffer as he suffered, if he might go as he went. May my last end be like his."
ADDRESS BY REV. BYRON SUNDERLAND, D. D.
When the news of his departure came, I could not do less than attend his burial. Time admonishes me that I must be brief ; but my tribute is sincere. He was my friend. I first met him here more than a generation ago. From that day I have admired and loved him with an increasing ardor. We began our ministry nearly together. He has lived and died in the city of his birth-the city that mourns him to-day, the city that adds him to the extending roll of her wise and noble dead. The first years of our acquaintance were memorable times. In those days I formed some friendships that have been to me an enduring inspiration. There stands a house to-day in the outskirts of your city, where many a happy hour was passed. Need I tell you whose it was? Alas ! the feet of devout men have but just now returned from the grave of him whose presence was the light of that dwelling, and whose fame in the Church and in the land has been so truly chronicled by the master-hand of another mutual and much loved friend.
But, while they remained, it was my lot, with a grief that has never been fully assuaged, to remove from this garden-region to other scenes. It was twenty-four years ago that I entered on my present pastorate-an event made signal to me by the presence of him whose repose is to-day so deep before us. He came to preach my installation sermon ; and oh, what a sacred fire was then upon those lips, now so mute and cold ! It was an honor that the old men who linger in the Church at Washington still recall with the utmost warmth of appreciation.
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There have been times, when I have seen him towering in his pride of argument and eloquence, and have felt, as no doubt you have often felt, that in his giant strength, his burning words, and in his every look and bearing, our common humanity had been sensibly enriched and exalted.
Such a day was that in the Detroit Assembly of 1852-that conclave of mighty men discussing for days together the sacred principles of human freedom! On that occasion he scarcely had a peer. His utterance came forth like a pent up storm, . bursting all bounds. From that day he was famous in the land.
The last sermon I ever heard him preach is recalled to me by the chapter just now read in your hearing, and which will linger with me to my dying day. It was at the time of the great Alliance in New York, on Sabbath morning, in the church of the now veteran and honored Dr. Burchard. The discourse was upon the life and character of the great Prophet Elijah, whom he brought before us with such vivid portraiture that we seemed to see a living reality. The vision swept on with the rush of a tempest. We saw the confusion of the prophets of Baal-the fire descending from heaven ; and, at last, the desperate flight of Elijah amid the wild rocks and solitudes of the desert. Then came in the fidelity of Jehovah toward His servant ! And I remember, as towards the conclusion, the whole audience were wrought up to the highest pitch of feeling. How those great, grand eyes were wet with tears, and the deep voice trembled with touching accents as he described with amazing force the wisdom and goodness of God in dealing with His own in troublous times !
We all know with what energy and pathos of conviction he espoused the cause of anti-slavery, and with what resistless eloquence he everywhere urged the removal of the foul blot from our Christian civilization, And when at last the controversy culminated in the clash of arms and the bloody strife of civil war, we know the brave but tender and powerful spirit with which he followed the advances of the Union armies-in one of which there was an idolized brother, a patriot and hero among the thousands around him-sealing his devotion with the sacrifice of his life, to the memory of which your city owes a monument, and the whole country a debt of the deepest gratitude. Ah, well I remember, at the close of the battle, the long, sad search for him, who, with all the human courage of his lineage and race, had marched on to certain death; and when the remains were found, how gravely and touchingly the minister of Christ gathered the scattered branches of his family about them, and with almost paternal care, instilled again the lessons of patriotic sub- mission and of Christian resignation to the will of heaven.
His immense popular power on the platform was given freely to every great cause of social and moral reformation ; and while no man surpassed him in these elements of greatness, yet his true heart-work lay in the preaching of Christ and in winning men to the discipleship of his master. It was here he laid himself out with unmeasured sweetness and strength. The stern and stormy parts of theology he left mainly to other hands. He loved to dwell on the infinite love of God for the sinful and the suffering, through the manifestation of the Cross, in depicting which he had scarcely a rival among the living men of his time.
He dealt little with the subtleties and sophistries of the Schools, and was far more concerned with the sentiment and conviction of the Gospel as an all-sufficient remedy for fallen and sinful men. This resulted in part from the liberality and
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largeness of his nature-for he was, as we know, of commanding person, and wholly magnificent in mind and heart-a majestic and brave-spirited man, in whom there was neither bigotry nor malice, but whose whole nature was deeply imbued with the most genial charity, and a melting pity for all human distress. Whatever was mean and low, narrow, sordid or false, he could not abide. A sense of injustice kindled in him like a flame of fire, and this alone brought forth the thunder of his indignation.
In none of the men that we have known was there a larger measure of strength and simplicity of power and modesty commingled. His nature was perfectly child- like, and accordingly tempered with a flowing, winning tenderness. He did not like to speak of himself, or even refer to his conflicts and his triumphs. Least of all was he given to egotism or self-assertion. While he was thoroughly original- no imitator and no trimmer-yet he rejoiced in books of all kinds, and reveled in the great and glowing thoughts of other men, and in everything that is glorious and inspiring in art or nature. He was in double sympathy with all that is beautiful and true-all that "is lovely and of good report."
Such was the essence and tenor of his life-a life whose sun has gone down without a shadow, and of whose brightness and benignity-that which happens to few of mortal men-his own fellow-townsmen and neighbors, and especially the unfortunate poor, who always found in him a friend, come forward as the most prompt and willing witnesses.
Into that inner and more sacred circle of his domestic life, where his quality shone as a lamp that burneth, and which now no light of earth can substitute, I dare not, neither might it become me, to enter ; yet, my last personal communica- tions with him were in his own home, with his loved ones around him. It was in the September days, when the summer was fading and the leaves were falling, and the sun shone down upon the ripened year as the light of God shone down upon his mellowed and full-rounded life.
Hearing that I was in the vicinity, he sent for me to visit him, and never had I a warmer welcome. I found him feeble even then. There was a gravity and gen- tleness in all his manner that I had never seen before. We talked of our early days, of the changes of life, of the prospects of the kingdom, of many things, and finally of the immortality. In every word I felt that he was near and dear to Christ, the living Head-that the angels were already whispering in his soul of the hour that was drawing on. We went to see Dr. Lord, the patriarch of your city, then on the confines of earth, already waiting for the chariot of Israel and the horsemen thereof. And, as we rode by the way, the autumn air seemed for him already moist with the spray of the river.
And his heart was ever softening towards the people of his charge. The flock of his love seemed ever in his thoughts, and his hope then was, that he should get strength enough still to lead them.
When the first monitions came of the giving way of his physical powers, there was a sadness not only here but in all our churches throughout the land ; and many who had heard that voice in his vital days, which had stirred the souls of men across the whole breadth of the continent, were anxious for the result. Then he traveled far away and saw the land of prophets and apostles, and saw Jerusalem, and saw the places forever hallowed by the footsteps of the Son of God.
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His return was full of hope. But, alas, the months sped, and the winter came and went ; he saw that his work was finished. The ways of Providence are to us inscrutable. The times may be stirring with eventful circumstances, but the men who live in them, chosen of God, are more stirring still; and doubtless he was among God's chosen. The time had passed and his task was done.
I am not surprised that you would not sunder a tie too sacred to be dissolved but at the touch of death ! Since that hour, many eyes have been turned hither, many ears have listened for tidings of your Pastor, with heartfelt interest of suspense. But it was not long to wait. Here in the spring-time, Prophet of the Resurrection -here on the first May Sabbath, emblem of the Rest everlasting-here with the morning songs he loved so well to sing-here where his last great words were said, which I see hanging on those blossomed shields-here while the worshipers on earth were preparing to gather to the temple, God calls him home! It is all so fitting-all so merciful !
Oh, Brother beloved-embassador of Christ-what a place thou hast filled-what a work thou hast done !
We are weak to-day, with tears and human sorrow, even as Jesus wept at the grave of His friend. But in our weakness and stricken love a new proof of the life hereafter springs up in our souls. There is no dream in our hope. It cannot be that what he was to us has fled away forever, like some shadowy illusion.
Nay, rather, he has but taken his final journey to the Promised Land-the true Canaan-the heavenly city-the glorious place prepared ! Free from the pains and infirmities of the flesh, he begins another and a grander ministry, on which the sun shall never set !
No, men and brethren, there is no mistake, no fallacy in that life and immortality which Christ has forever brought tolight. We shall see him again ! We shall not be, as the highest modern philosophy of scientific speculation asserts, "like a streak of the morning cloud, fading into the infinite azure of the past"-but our faith, which is the noblest form of the souls' imagination, accepts the testimony of the glorious apostle, while we can each exclaim with him: " I am now ready to be offered, and the time of my departure is at hand ; I have fought a good fight ; I have kept the faith ; I have finished my course; hereafter there is laid up for me a crown of righteousness, which the Lord, the righteous Judge, shall give me at that day ; and not to me only, but to all them who love His appearing."
Hope on! Toil on ! A few more suns will bring us to it. We shall see them again ! Our tears will be turned into gladness, and our faith to fruition, august and without end.
.
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The following was taken from the Courier of the fourteenth of May :
THE LATE DR. HEACOCK.
Sunday School Memorial Exercises at Lafayette Street Church, Sunday, May 13, Interesting Addresses, etc.
Rev. Dr. Hopkins, of Auburn Theological Seminary, preached at the Lafayette Street Church yesterday morning, and his sermon had fitting reference to the death of the pastor, Rev. Grosvenor W. Heacock, D. D. At noon the Sunday School of the Church held in the chapel, memorial services of an exceedingly interesting and impressive character. The chapel was plainly and tastefully draped. The desk was covered with black cloth and behind it hung a portrait of the lamented Pastor draped with crape. Over the portrait was a large crescent of beautiful flowers, and on a pedestal beneath it was a crown of wheat sheaves, illustrative of Psalm 126, v. 6.
At the opening of the school, after the hymn,
" How firm a foundation, ye saints of the Lord,"
had been sung, the superintendent, Mr. Charles G. Brundige, spoke substantially as follows :
We have never before come together under circumstances like these. We have, it is true, at other times met here when this house was draped with the emblems of mourning, when our hearts were swelling with grief at the death of some one we loved and who had filled so high a place in our Christian activities that our loss seemed irreparable. But, at such times, there was one with us profound in spiritual insight and strong in wisdom, who held us up and guided us-one who comforted us with words of consolation which fell from lips of wondrous grace. But now he, " our tower of strength," has fallen, our " son of consolation" has been taken from us, and we are indeed bereaved.
In some respects, our case in this sad Providence, is not entirely exceptional, for other pastors have been summoned away and have left their flocks in the wilder- ness ; other husbands and fathers have been taken from the embrace of those who loved and depended on them ; other citizens and patriots have been called to leave their high duties to those who may come after them, but which one of them all combined in his own person all the highest qualities of a Christian minister, a husband, father, friend and patriot in such lavish profusion as did our departed friend ?
Till his departure, we knew not how great a treasure we had in him. Even now we have only a feeble conception of the greatness of our loss. But we are begin- ning deeply to feel the increased weight of responsibility resting upon us. We sit here to-day like a family of children, just returned from that consecrated spot where they laid the revered form of a loved father in his last resting-place, gathering around the hearth-stone to speak with each other for a little while in tender memory of the dear departed, before they go forth to meet the increased care and labor imposed on them. We are all of his household-he was our father-and while we do not shrink from any duty and responsibility, we do not feel that we can to-day resume our usual routine of duties. We have no heart for it now. We will, there- fore, omit our usual exercises and spend the hour in mournful but pleasant mem- ories of him whom we all loved so fondly.
At the conclusion of these remarks, prayer was offered by Elder John Otto in word and manner so appropriate as to harmonize with the feelings of every heart present.
After the singing of the hymn,
" Oh think of the home over there,"
Rev. Dr. Hopkins, a brother-in-law of the late Pastor, said :
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As the images of Cato are said to have been only the more conspicuous by their absence in Cæsar's triumph, so the late Pastor was the more present to every thought and heart to-day, because we feel that he is gone forever from these scenes with which your memories so intimately associate him-you see him in this desk more than you see me. He loved such gatherings as these. You can hear his strong voice joining with you in singing these pleasant hymns of children. He was emi- nently simple, unaffected, child-like himself. You all know with what hearty enthusiasm he would throw himself into children's sports and amusements. No man was ever less self-conscious, less artificial, or stood less upon mere conventional principles or professional dignity. At the same time he had that courtesy, that tenderness towards the feelings of others, that abhorrence of cruelty and wrong, that resembled him to a genuine knight of romance. The noble picture of him on the wall behind me has been ornamented by some ladies with a beautiful floral crescent. It reminds me that it was the symbol of an early Christian order of knight- hood. It is too much associated in our minds, in all modern times with barbarism and cruelty, but if it was formerly the emblem of the development of the heroic Christian character, nothing could have been more appropriately chosen. I have often thought, as I have looked at his stalwart frame and fearless bearing, what a splendid knight he would have made in the times of old, crushing down whole ranks, like Richard of the lion heart, by his single arm. The days of this sort of chivalry are happily over, but true knighthood did not consist so much in personal strength, or skill in the use of arms, as it did in the qualities of courage, tenderness and generosity ; in a readiness to take the side of the poor and weak ; to help the oppressed against oppression ; to lift the fallen, and stand at every personal risk and sacrifice in defense of the right. In these respects your Pastor had the very spirit of chivalry. He was in all his feelings a gentleman-gentle, considerate, patient, kind. If he had any fault it was too much generosity ; he over-estimated
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