USA > New York > Ulster County > Kingston > Semi-centennial celebration of the Rondout Presbyterian Church, Kingston, N.Y. 1833-1883 > Part 6
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As I said this Church did more for me than I did for it, and it did a great deal for me, and I look back with gratitude to the education it gave me, and the assistance the officers and people rendered me. There are a thousand memories and names and incidents which I might recall, but I ought not to detain you another moment. It seems to me that the main purpose of my coming would be accomplished if I should just show myself here and be one of this pleasant gathering.
May God bless the future years and the coming generations with grander treasures, and more Heavenly beauty than any thing the past has seen. Instead of the fathers, may the chil- dren who are coming up stand a strong and comely and goodly seed to serve Him. May God bless you and cause His face to shine upon you forevermore.
Rev. Dr. MAGEE : - We have yet to listen to one whom it is a great pleasure for me to introduce, because he is the one with which my pastorate is linked, and of whom I can say no better or sweeter thing, as far as my own thought conceives it, than that I am permitted to gather fruit of his faithful sowing, and stand beneath the wide branches of his good planting. It were better that he should introduce me than I him. You know him far better, and he knows you far better. But I give him, as you gave him yours, my hand and heart, as I ask him to stand once more before this sacred desk.
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Rev. Isaac Clark.
Rev. ISAAC CLARK spoke as follows : - I remember when in the seminary we used to hear a story to this effect told of a certain student whose sermonizing powers were hardly up to his own estimate of the same, who prepared a sermon and submitted it to the professor for commendation, and after the professor had looked it over he said to him, "have you selected any hymns to go with this sermon." " Well, no, I did not think of that, professor ; does any appropriate hymn occur to you that I might use in connection with this sermon." " Well, he said, it strikes me that for a hymn before the sermon, an appropriate hymn would be this, "Now I lay me down to sleep, I pray the Lord my soul to keep." I have the impression that you think it is about time to give out that hymn.
I remember very well when that honest tell-tale clock was placed there to face me here, and how with slowly folding hands it pointed warningly to twelve; and it seemed to me there was a certain magic about that clock, for though it struck no note and made no noise, it made the people whose backs were turned to it to know beyond a peradventure when those hands were folding and were approaching twelve.
Now, I do sincerely hope I shall be able to bring my remarks to a close to-night before those folded hands point to twelve, but when you remember that including the delightful services in the other room, some thirteen speakers have already spoken you will see the exceeding difficulty of finding any thing to say that has not already been said and admirably said, and the long time it must have required, and yet I do hope that I shall succeed in closing these remarks, before twelve o'clock ; and I am all the more encouraged because I know I have your earnest prayers in my behalf.
This is a time for congratulations. I feel and have felt like congratulating myself - I did when I was pastor here - I con- gratulated myself that I had come in the line of such a worthy succession, a true apostolic succession. Not to go back past the living, there was Mr. Phillips, always fearless, sometimes
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it may be, just a little bit fiery, when it seemed to him that truth or right was assailed, or if you please the firm rock whereon this church might be strongly built as against any thing that opposed the St. Peter of the number. Then there was Mr. Irvin, the Presbyterian of Presbyterians, with scholar- ship and culture and strength and zeal, devoted to the gospel and to its spread, the St. Paul of the number. And then there was Mr. Ledyard, gentle and easy to be entreated and yet strong with all, with fine spiritual intuitions and a grace of speech such as may come from one who loved and was beloved by his people-the St. John of the number. I always con- gratulated myself that I fell into the line of such apostolic suc- cession, and when I laid down the pastorate of this church and since, I rejoiced that this church was wise enough and divinely favored enough to secure a man better than his predecessor, and so to night I am congratulating myself for such association ; and as I think of my fellow co-laborers I congratulate the church on the services that have been rendered in the past by them and with them.
I have been interested in a little coincidence, and inasmuch as we are all friends together here, will speak of it. In the opening of the year 1833, the Edwards church of North- hampton was organized ; in the closing of the year 1833, the Rondout Presbyterian church was organized. In June of that eventful year a former pastor of one and the present pastor of the other church named was also born, and now I suspect I have let you into an important secret, and you understand this pastor spoken of has reached what is commonly called the dead line of the ministerial life, and yet I do not propose to pass over that for some little time, God helping me.
I am reminded that while our earthly human lives quickly pass and end, the life of the church continues. Individuals themselves pass away. The aged, worn and weary, lay down the burdens and wait a little as in the first of the evening hour for the call of Him who changes the evening-time into the morning dawn, and those in the middle of life are stricken
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Rev. Isaac Clark.
down, and those who are young and before whom appear pro- jects and plans which they take up with enthusiasm are stricken down, but the church lives on.
This church has lived on for fifty years. If I may refer to a single thing in connection with my own pastorate I will call up to mind that which was perhaps the most noticeable thing to us, and the thing which pressed most upon our consciences while we were together. I have read of a prince who put about his prisoners who were condemned to death a certain arrangement which was a refinement of cruelty. Placed in a room with a movable ceiling, every night by the turn of a screw it would lower a little; every morning the ceiling had come a little nearer to the floor, and thus day after day the ceiling descended until, in darkness and horror, life was crushed out of the wretched victims. There was a time when it seemed that we were shut in beneath a load that each year descended a little nearer to us, a little less of light was seen, a little less of the invigorating air of heaven came in as the weight descended, until, at length, this church, in the strength of a great Christian purpose, lifted itself to the full height of grand endeavor, threw off the burden, let in the light, let in the air, and began life anew, and to this day you are experienc- ing the benefit of that deed. For that day and that deed we may rejoice and thank God.
I must not detain you. Standing here, it is very natural to fall into a kind of preaching manner. I remember to have heard of a good Methodist brother who gave out his text, and then said : "Brethren, I propose to draw from this passage three points of doctrine;" and I want to present three points before leaving you, and they are these: First, look upward, keep the upward look. Life and light, power, instruction and joy for the individual and for the church are there. Keep the upward look, but not that alone; look forward. A history made and lying back of yesterday is good, but I think a his- tory lying before us to be made is better. Memory is good, but hope and resolve made strong, it may be by grateful mem-
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ory, is better. To commemorate deeds done is well; to do the deeds of the present, and the larger deeds of the future is better. Look forward, then. The church that has reached its fiftieth year has only got good vantage ground and power for the future. While grateful for the past, be zealous for the future. There are better things in the future then there have been in the past; there will never be any better revelation for you, but there may be an appropriation of God's truth ; there will never be any better God for you, but that God and the law of God may be taken into your hearts and become a living principle, embodying itself in perfect righteousness and more beautiful grace and beneficence of love; there will never be any better redemption, but the redemption of the Lord Jesus Christ may be taken more fully into your hearts until you are more perfectly redeemed from sin; there will never be any better service, but it may be renewed in the inspiration of a better love. Then look forward; and third, look outward. Look outward in full sympathy and in the spirit of largest fellowship over all who love the Lord Jesus Christ ; outward over the whole earth, for the world is the field, and, as things are to-day, every church stands in the very center of the world, with a grand possibility through its radiating influence, send- ing out its endeavors and powers through and around the globe. Thus, look upward, look forward and outward, and this church shall have a grander history in the next fifty years than in the last; and all our thankfulness in the past now gathers up into a prayer for the future of this church.
Rev. Dr. MAGEE: - Now we have only to stand a moment in the light reflected from all these words of wisdom that have fallen upon us, and lift our hearts in grateful thanksgiving to God for them all. There is, it seems to me, a spice of hero- ism in a congregation that can sit five and a half solid hours and listen to speaking without wincing; and it is only the magic of the words spoken that could hold their hearts.
Now, at the closing of these exercises of commemoration
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and thanksgiving, I would ask that God's blessing shall rest upon you, and that all the kind wishes expressed by the good men of God who have spoken may be realized in your hearts, in your lives and in the future of the church. God bless you. I would make you rich of the coin of my heart ; may the love and benediction of the Heavenly Father rest sweetly over you always.
The following letters were read, from Rev. E. D. Ledyard, a former pastor, and other friends of the church :
LETTER FROM REV. E. D. LEDYARD.
STEUBENVILLE, Ohio.
Your invitation to be present at the celebration of the fif- tieth anniversary of the organization of the Rondout Presby- terian church was duly received, and I deeply regret that my family and myself cannot be with you upon this interesting occasion.
It would be invidious to speak of the six and a half years during which I was the pastor of the church as being more important than any other equal number of years in its half century of existence, but my ministerial brethren will excuse me for saying that they were very important years for me. They stand out as one of the most interesting periods of my life. You were my first love. To you I came fresh from the theological seminary, and you taught me, I verily believe, more than I taught you. I can never forget your kindness, and forbearance, and helpfulness while I was learning as preacher and pastor to put the instructions of the theological seminary into practical operation among you. Never can I forget your kindness, manifested in a thousand ways. If my little son Walter ever becomes a minister, and his mother does not send him off as a foreign missionary, I want him to go to Princeton Seminary and then straight to Rondout ; that is, of course, if Dr. Magee is not still there. I am only sorry that
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he cannot be ordained where I was; that is, in front of the pulpit in the old yellow church across the way.
I greatly regret my inability to be with you on Wednesday, because I would serve as a sort of connecting link between the old church and the new, or rather as a plank on which the history of the church and of the pastorates might pass from the times of the former to those of the latter; for I was the last pastor to serve in the old church, and I laid the corner- stone and was a member of the building committee, and almost witnessed the completion of the new. No other pas- tor, perhaps, will tell how near you were to having an iron church, outside as well as inside, and how you were saved from it by the timely burning up of the Brooklyn church which was serving as our model. Yes, I could appreciate equally well, if I could be with you, the references of Bro- thers Phillips and Irvin to the good old times in the church on the south side of the street, and those of Brothers Clark and Magee to the good new times in your present handsome building. And in addition to all this, the day of your anni- versary, November 14, is my wedding day. I should be glad of the opportunity of saying a few words in praise of the men who were wise enough to select that particular day for the organization of the church.
Nearly ten years have passed since I was your pastor, and yet you will see from the pleasantries in which I have per- mitted myself to indulge, that I do not begin to count myself as a stranger among you. Your names and faces are as fresh in my memory as yesterday, and your individual welfare and your grand work for the Master have still my tender interest and my fervent prayer.
May God bless you, one and all, and enable you to exert an influence which shall be felt, not only for another half century, but to the end of time.
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LETTER FROM REV. THOMAS REEVES.
MATTEAWAN, N. Y.
The invitation to attend the semi-centennial services of the Rondout Presbyterian Church is received. It gives me real regret to write that an engagement to-morrow evening will de- prive me of the pleasure, which I would greatly value, of being with you.
I would express my deep interest in your happy anniversary. It gathers and places in review many precious blessings from the Lord, many noble deeds done in his service, many tender memories of saintly ones, who have brightened and benefited your community, and have now passed into the heavenly service and reward. The fifty years of your church's life are like golden caskets, studded outwardly with sparkling gems, and filled with fragrant spices. You have been deficient in no part of the great work of the Lord; in Sabbath worship, in christian conference, and mutual aid and prayer, in the instruc- tion of the young, in the benevolent enterprises near you, and in the great interests of Christ's kingdom abroad, you have accomplished a great work, and have stimulated a like interest and vigor in the churches of our own and other denominations.
I rejoice that God's blessing has been yours, and that He is with you now, and I pray that your dear church may be pros- pered in the time to come far beyond the highest prosperity of the past.
LETTER FROM ELDER TYLER H. ABBEY.
WATKINS, N. Y.
Your esteemed favor inviting me to join you in a semi- centennial commemoration of the Presbyterian Church of Ron- dout the 11th and 14th inst. is received. It would afford me much pleasure to revisit the scenes and revive the recollections of 1836 and 7, when, in my youthful vigor, I first became acquainted with your society, and engaged in Sabbath school
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and other christian work with pastor Riley, brethren Young, Terry, Osterhoudt, Crane and others, not forgetting my dear sister, Mrs. North, who was my constant companion, but who now, with most of those others, has joined the society of the blessed - and when again in 1841, 2 and 3, with my young family, I not only renewed my relations, but with brethren Crane and Decker took the responsibility of an Elder in the Church, which, then weak, has since become so much of a power for good in that community. The acquaintance, thus commenced, has somewhat continued, and, although not a fre- quent visitor, it has been with much interest that I have, from time to time, learned of your christian activity and successful heralding of the gospel through those appointed agencies of our Church, whereby not only so much of christian civilization has been brought home to benighted nations, but so much of christian comfort and joy have entered human hearts and opened up to perishing sinners the gates of endless joy.
The events of the half century now to be reviewed, abound with interest and instruction, the details of which, by those who will so happily present them on this occasion, it seems like a loss to forego, yet, in my present state of health, with sincere expressions of regret and regards, I must excuse my absence and expect only to enjoy something of them in a review of the records.
Rev. C. W. Camp of St. Johns Episcopal church, Rev. Johnston Myers, Hon. Geo. W. Sharp, Hon. Wm. S. Kenyon, Hon. Reuben Bernard and many others also expressed their regrets at not being able to be present.
SEMI-CENTENNIAL POEM.
'Twas fifty years ago,
Only a span compared with centuries old, Yet long when measured by the change these years Have wrought. Our thriving, enterprising mart Well builded o'er and stretching far and wide Its shaded streets and ample avenues, With crowded wharves and steamers swift and strong, And teeming life and busy hum of trade, With handsome churches, schools and cultured homes, Was but a hamlet then, with here and there Along the Strand or on the rugged hill Beyond a building plain of wood or stone. But in those scattered homes were Christian hearts Whose faith and sympathies were one ; who loved The Master's work and sought to know His will, Whose prayer was day by day, " Thy kingdom come, And not my will but Thine, O Lord, be done !" Their homes, and then the little school-house on The rocks supplied the only church they had ; And there they worshipped with their little ones In simple faith their father's God and ours. They bowed in prayer and sang their hymns of praise, And talked together often of their plans, Desires and purposes. They longed to found A Church of Christ, a true and living branch, And build a House of God. We see them now, A band of godly men and women too, With heads uncovered, bowed before the Lord, Serene of heart and radiant with trust ; They ask for wisdom, grace and help divine, To plant the germ which all the coming years Should grow and bloom and bear immortal fruit. The sainted Wurts and Young and Endicott And Terry, all in glory now, were there, And others too, as fervent in their zeal, Whose unremembered names we fain would speak With gratitude. Alas ! no record left
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Behind reveals the sixteen honored names First traced upon the roll of membership. They little knew nor little dreamed what change These fruitful years would bring, what destiny They served, what broad and sure foundations laid For future growth, what precious seed they sowed For other hands to reap in later years. No sculptured marble tells the deeds they wrought, Nor scroll of fame records their humble worth.
Thus cradled at its birth in faith and prayer, The infant church of fifty years ago Began its long career of usefulness ; The Father's unremitting care has nursed Through all these fleeting years its tender growth, Bestowed unnumbered blessings o'er its way, And guarded sacredly its destiny.
In time the House of Worship they had planned, Was built and dedicated to the Lord With solemn service, gratitude and joy; And long and faithfully they worshipped there. What sacrifice it cost, what earnest toil, What faith, what trust sublime, we ne'er shall know. An honored few who shared that noble work, In early manhood's strength, still linger here Like ripened autumn leaves upon the trees When swept by wintry winds. They're here to-night, With kindling eye and beaming countenance, And share with us these glad festivities. Long may their venerable forms be seen Among the worshippers assembled here, And soft the golden sunset of their lives ; And when the evening shadows deepen o'er Their failing years unfaltering be their trust, And bright their crowns when gathered home at last.
The fifty years, with noiseless step, have passed ; The long anticipated day has come With all its promised joy, its cherished hopes. Ring out the welcome loud and clear, let all Unite in this our festive jubilee. With speech and song and fitting services, We celebrate to-night the natal hour When half a century ago this church Began its sturdy growth. The skies are bright,
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D. Brainerd Abbey.
The golden sunset fading o'er the western hills At close of day, and bathing valley, plain And mountain side with floods of amber light, The crimson curtains of the sky all tinged With changing hues of gold, the silent stars Arrayed in majesty and glittering on The far off bosom of the upper deep Like pearls of light on heaven's templed arch, All hail with joy this bright auspicious hour. But though our cup of thankfulness is full And running o'er for blessings oft received And mercies past, there's mingled sadness too As we recall the well-remembered days Of old. What tender memories are stirred, What silent strings and broken chords are touched, What long-forgotten scenes lived o'er again. The boys and girls of fifty years ago, Who played upon the green or climbed the rocks And hills in search of bud and early bloom, Are grown to stately men and matrons grave, With silvered hair, and scattered far and wide.
The dear old church our fathers proudly reared, With steeple tall and architecture plain, Old fashioned windows rattling in the wind, And fractured bell whose tones we knew so well, Still stands across the way a monument, Deserted now, yet full of hallowed memories. Again we swing its massive doors and tread The long-forsaken aisles with buoyant step ; Once more we sit in our accustomed pews And look the congregation o'er again ; We hear the preacher's voice, his solemn words, The fervent prayer, the choir, the grand old hymns They sang. And, as our fancy dreams, we see The mystic curtains of the sky that veil The spirit world from our's, drawn gently back By hands unseen, while shadowy forms of those We loved who long have slept the dreamless sleep Appear, like wanderers long absent from The early home returned. We almost hear The rustling of their shining garments as O'er golden pavements of the upper courts They sweep with noiseless step, and catch the strains Of rapturous song that burst from angel choirs.
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We clasp the hands long folded to their rest, We hear the voice, the song, the merry laugh, Long hushed in silence deep, and catch the gleam Of sparkling eye long quenched in peaceful sleep. We see the children, brought by loving hands, Presented to the Lord, in faith baptized ; Young men and maidens fair with plighted love Before the altar stand with beating hearts ; We hear the solemn marriage service read, The low response, the vows of faithful love : We see the sad procession moving up The aisle with measured step, the casket laid With tender hands before the sacred desk ; We hear the sermon full of sympathy, The earnest prayer replete with tenderness; We see the lengthened line file slowly by The casket, gaze with reverential look Upon the pallid features of the dead, The last and lingering look of fondest love, The falling tears, the bitter, bitter grief. Within those sacred walls what earnest words Have rung, what eloquence, what fervent prayer, What deep solicitude for souls unsaved, What inspiration given for higher aims And purposes, and purer, better lives. In answer to the pleading prayer of faith, What scenes of interest were witnessed there When God's sweet spirit moved with wond'rous power, Upon the hearts and consciences of men. Awakened sinners, filled with sense of guilt, Find joy and comfort in His pardoning grace ; Confess before the world their faith in Christ, And then, with reverential hearts, surround The blessed table of our Lord and share With all believing ones the bread and wine. The pastors, Mason, Sayre and Reiley, Carle And Phillips, Irvin, Ledyard, noble men, Before our vision in succession rise, And preach their faithful sermons o'er again. Each look and each peculiar tone of voice, Their varied style, we vividly recall. We fain would linger with these memories So full of precious interest to us, But leave them with the dreams of other days.
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They're here to-night ! a glorious company Of those whose steps once echoed in these courts, Whose pilgrim feet have safely crossed the flood To stand on fairer shores ; their angel forms Bend fondly o'er this bright memorial scene, And mingle in these grateful services.
O God. preserve this sacred church of thine ; Build up its walls, enlarge its boundaries ; Let no unhallowed hands its faith assail, Or mar the beauty of its simple trust ; Let benedictions in profusion fall, Along its pathway through the lengthening years. Here let it stand through ages yet to come, A beacon-light to warn the tempest-tossed, And guide to shores of everlasting peace. Here may our children's children worship too With fervent zeal, be faithful to their trust, And then transmit the precious heritage Unmarred through all the generations down.
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