OLIN 
 
 BX 
 
 9225 
 
 .S62 
 
 166 
 
 1884 
 
l^eV. CourtneiJ ^mith, \ M. 
 
The original of tliis book is in 
 tlie Cornell University Library. 
 
 There are no known copyright restrictions in 
 the United States on the use of the text. 
 
 http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924088181866 
 
CORNELL UNIVERSITY LIBRARY 
 
 3 1924 088 181 866 
 
IB mE^oi^i^^. 
 
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 RE SOLUTIONS 
 
 ]\\ THK PRESBYTERIAN CHURCHES OK ELLICOTTVIIJ.E, X. V. 
 
 ANMl CRANl) RAPIDS, MICH. 
 
 LAST SERMON, 
 
 PREACHED AT ICLLICOTTVILLE, N. \., FKH. 1 7, I 884. 
 
 GKAN'D llAPinS, MICH: 
 
 II. II. CoMiSTOCK, liOOK .\M> jlHi PltlNTIiK. 
 
 ISS4. 
 

 
 '■y 
 
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 €3 
 
 
lutions, 
 
RESOLUTIONS 
 
 Ox THK DkATH ()!■ IHF. RkV. C()URTNK\- SmITH, BY THE 
 
 Preshvterian Church ov ELiJtOTTVii.LE, \. \'. 
 
 At a meeting of the Congregation of the Presbyterian Church 
 and Society, of Ellicottville, held at the church, on the 23rd 
 day of P^bruary. 1884, A. D. Scott was called to the chair, and 
 A. M. Ellis was made Secretary. After appropriate remarks 
 by Judge Scott, Deacon CTra)^ Mr. Huntley, Mr, Bird, and 
 others, upon the life and death of the Rev. Courtney Smith, 
 the Pastor of this Church, the following memorial was adopted 
 and ordered entered upon the chinch records. 
 
 mi;morial. 
 
 ■'The Rev. Courtney Smith was born at Bolton, Warren 
 County, New \'ork, on the 21st day of March, 1806, and died 
 of heart disease, after only a few hoiirs sickness, at his house 
 in Ellicottville, on the 22nd day of February, 1884, at 5 o'clock 
 in the morning. 
 
 " He received a thorough education at Bolton, his native 
 place, and studied (Jreek with Taylor I,ewis, who was after- 
 ward Professor in the New \'ork I'niversity, and studied 
 Theology with his brother, the Rev. Reuben Smith, of 
 \\'aterford, and afterwards received the degree of Master of 
 Arts, from the Middleburg College, of ^'ermont. He was 
 married at Bolton, N. \'.,to Miss Sarah .Mclntyre, on the 21st 
 da}' of .August, 1828, and they have traveled the journey of life 
 together for over half a century, sharing each other's joys and 
 sorrows, and she is left to mourn ; but she is comforted with 
 the Christian's hope of the resurection, and of the life to come 
 in the mansions of her Lord, with her beloved. Mr. Smith 
 was educated at Waterford, N. \'.. for the ministry, and re- 
 ceived his license to preach the Gospel from the Presbytery 
 of Troy, on the loth day of September, 1834. at the age of 28 
 years, and was ordained within a year thereafter, having been 
 in the ministry almost full fifty \ears, and nearly one-third of 
 
the time with this church, and is the first pastor who has died 
 during his connection with this church since its organization. 
 
 "He entered upon the work of his chosen profession at Bolton, 
 where he was born, in the year 1834, and remained there seven 
 years, and then went to M'arrensburg, N. Y., where he remained 
 fourteen years, when he was called to Grand Rapids, Michigan, 
 where he remained nearly ten years, and he was four years at 
 Portland, Chatauqua County. Mr. Smith came to this place 
 in the fall of the year 1869, and preached to us about a year, 
 when he was duly installed as the pastor of this church and 
 congregation. 
 
 " During all these years he has ever been a faithful and 
 efficient pastor ; always zealous in his Master's work. His 
 life is ripe in golden fruit. This church has prospered under 
 his care, and many have been led into its fold under his minis- 
 tration. 
 
 " He was a man of more than ordinary abilities, a diligent 
 and thorough student, learned in his profession, and possessed 
 of large and varied acquirements. He was eloquent and argu- 
 mentative in discourse. B^asy and pleasing in his address, of 
 fine culture and great experience, earnest in every good work, 
 and at all times carefully obser\-ant of all the proprieties of the 
 highest type of a Christian manhood. Bv his faithful teach- 
 ings in the pulpit, by his kind words and warm sympathy for 
 all in sorrow or distress, by his daily life among his people, 
 exemplifying at all times the life of the ("hristian and the friend, 
 he has greatly endeared himself, not only to this church, but to 
 this entire commimity, and we mourn his loss. In his death 
 this community has lost a good man, and this church a beloved 
 pastor, and a kind and affectionate friend. His family are deeply 
 afliicted, and the love and sympathy of this church go to Mrs 
 Smith, the bereaved widow, and to Miss Mclntyre, the sister 
 in large measure. May the Good Shepherd bind up their 
 broken hearts. 
 
 " This memorial shall be entered at large in the records of 
 this church, and a copy presented to the bereaved familv." 
 
 Signed, 
 A. M. ELLIS, A. D. SCOTT 
 
 Secretary. (^'-^^ 
 
 airman. 
 
RESOLUTIONS 
 
 Ox THE Death ok the Re\-. Courtne\- Smith, hy the 
 
 First Presbyterian and A\kstminster PREsmiER- 
 
 lAN Churches, of (jrand Rapids, Mich. 
 
 ■ Whereas, The members of the First Presbyterian Church, 
 and of the ^\'estminster Presbyterian Church, of Grand Rapids, 
 have received the sad intelligence of the death of their first 
 pastor, Rev. Courtney Smith, at Ellicott\ ille, Xew \'ork, on the 
 22nd day of February, A. ]). 1884, and desire to express in fit- 
 ting terms their affectionate appreciation of him as a minister, 
 pastor and friend, therefore, 
 
 •'Resolved, That in the death of Reverend Courtney Smith, \vc 
 are reminded of his loving interest in us, of his noble and un- 
 tiring efforts to build up the cause of the Master in our midst, 
 to found here a church, the Christian influence of which should 
 be wider, deeper and broader as time rolls on; of his great 
 success in this his field of labor ; of his far reaching sagacit\' 
 and foresight, which enabled him to see at that earl}' time, when 
 the cause of Presbyterianism in this city was not onl\- in its 
 infancy, but was fighting manfully and desperately for our ex- 
 istance, that it was destined to grow from its then feeble exist- 
 ance as a church, to a manly stature, and take its proper place 
 among the powerful sister churches of the city in Christian 
 work and influence. How effectuall}- he labored and how true 
 were his prophesies, is seen in the growth of our denomination 
 from one to three vigorous and growing churches ; and 
 especially are we reminded of his watchful care over us, and 
 his unceasing prayers in our behalf, during all the years he 
 was with us, and of the bold, manly discourses he gave us from 
 the pulpit, replete as they always were with eloquent appeals 
 to the heart and soul, with incisive and convincing logic and 
 sound doctrine. 
 
 " And now he has gone to his reward, full of years and 
 honor. ' Well done, good and faithful servant ; enter thou 
 into the joys of thy I.ord.' 
 
''Resolved, That we extend to the widow andfamilv ot our 
 beloved pastor our heartfelt sympathies, and with them we 
 will remember that ' he is not dead, but sleepeth,' he is not 
 lost, but has only gone before, and is now basking m the 
 smiles of that Redeemer whose cause he so faithfully served. 
 
 "Resolved, That this preamble and these resolutions be 
 spread at large upon the records of our respective churches, 
 and an engrossed copy of such record, signed by the clerk of 
 the session of each church jointly, be forwarded to the widow 
 of the deceased, and also that a copy be furnished the papers 
 of the city, for publication. 
 
■^ermoi], 
 
SERMON 
 
 RV THE RkV. CoURTNKV SmiTH, A. M., El.I.ICOTTVII.I.K, N. Y 
 
 Prkached Fkhruary 17, 1884. 
 
 COMFORT. 
 
 In the dark and cloudy day, 
 When earth's riches flee away, 
 And the last hope will not stay, 
 Saviour, comfort me ! 
 
 When the secret Idol 's gone. 
 That my poor soul yearned upon. 
 Desolate, bereft, alone, 
 Siiviour, comfort me! 
 
 Thou who wast so sorely tried. 
 In the darkness crucified, 
 Bid me in thy love confide ; 
 Saviour, comfort me ! 
 
 Comfort me ! I am cast down ; 
 'Tis my Heavenly Father's frown. 
 I deserve it all, I own ; 
 Saviour, comfort me. 
 
 So it shall be good for me. 
 Much afflicted now to be, 
 If Thou will but tenderly, 
 Saviour comfort me. 
 
 DEATH OF THE RIGHTEOUS. 
 
 How blest the righteous when he dies. 
 When sinks the weary soul to rest ! 
 
 How mildly beam the closing eyes ! 
 How gently heaves the expiring breast. 
 
 So fades a summer cloud away ; 
 
 So sinks the the gale when storms are o'er 
 So gently shuts the eye of day ; 
 
 So dies a wave alons the shore. 
 
 A holy quiet reigns around, 
 
 A calm which life nor death destroys ; 
 And naught disturbs that peace profound. 
 
 Which his unfettered soul enjoys. 
 
 Life's labor done, as sinks the clay. 
 Light from its load the spirit flies ; 
 
 While heaven and earth combine to say, 
 " How blest the righteous when he dies ! 
 
" Remember how short my time is ; wherefore hast Thou made all 
 
 men in vain .?" — Ps. 8g:4j. 
 
 This language was undoubtedly the result of a contemplation 
 of man us frail and mortal. That this was so, is e\ident from 
 expressions which occur in the context. 
 
 In the text we have the remarkable appeal to the great 
 author of life ■ " Remember how short my time is," as if he 
 had said " i am but short lived ; the space allotted to me on earth 
 is a very brief one, and I am gone," and then by a very natural 
 transition, and glancing at the condition of the race, of which 
 he was one, he adds, " wherefore hast Thou made all men m 
 vain ? " The whole world was seen overspread with gloom ; 
 those who appeared upon its theatre were seen disappearing 
 in rapid succession, and on everv hand was seen some spec- 
 tacle of dying humanity. 
 
 In view of this condition of things, and as an abstract matter, 
 the Psalmist indulged in the burst of passion which we have in 
 the text: — "wherefore hast Thou made all men in vain?" 
 The truth of man's mere mortal cor\&\tiOT\, as an abstract truth, 
 would suggest itself somewhat like this : Man — the noblest 
 specimen of the inferior creation, — appearing upon the stage 
 of action, and taking his leave of it by an inexorable law of his 
 being, while as yet, he scarcely had time to mature his plans 
 of life, man would seem to have been placed in the world, 
 with his equipment of faculties, without an adequate end or 
 purpose. Separate his life here from all connection with the 
 future ; or make his mortality a simple abstract truth, and the 
 language of the text would be the natural language of lamenta- 
 tion, that the purpose of his creation and endowment was a 
 vain one, would be no extravagant conclusion, in view of his 
 brief life here. 
 
 Thus we have a topic suggested, which by proper treatment, 
 I think, may be made profitable. I will bring it into the form 
 of a proposition • On the ground that the life of man ends here, 
 so far as we are capable of perceiving, his creation and location in 
 this world is a failure. 
 
 First. In support and illustration of this proposition, I 
 ask you in the first place, to take notice of the life of man in 
 
Its coinparatr,;- importance. In the comi)arative sense, liow 
 much being has man if you view him with reference to s. future 
 state ? How much being have 7w who are present here, in 
 this point of view ? 
 
 Ue should remember \\\a.t.\\\e: fountain of being appropriates 
 only to Himself the name of " I Am." In him alone is 'fulluess 
 of being." If there is no future for us ; if our life ends here ; 
 do \ou not see how nearlv it verges upon nothing in the com- 
 ])arative sense ? And it was in this comparative sense that the 
 prophet Isaiah spake in that sublime and impressive utterance 
 of his, " All nations before Him are as nothing, and they are 
 counted to Him less than nothing, and vanity." Is. 40:17. 
 
 Second. Take notice, in the second place, o{ the fluctua- 
 tions of man' s being. It was the remark of Heraclitus, one of 
 the old philosophers, that "all things flow as a river ; nothing 
 stays." Patil gave utterance to the same sentiment, but in a 
 more elegant form : " The fashion of this world passeth 
 away." What then is man as only mortal? \Vhat is his mere 
 corporeal being ? What is he by the blank, cold, hideous dog- 
 matiizing of the atheist? What if there is no future for him ? 
 
 We are each one of us constantly changing. It is a sound phil- 
 osophy which tells us that " the process of loss and gain and 
 accession is constantly going on, and at each climacteric or 
 critical period of our age, the whole bodily fabric is changed." 
 so that it may be said of man at either of the stages refered 
 to, he is not what he once was, the former man is gone ; the old 
 corporeal being has run down to nothing, and the representa- 
 tions of Isaiah and Paul become most pertinent and impressive 
 as applied to him. 
 
 The whole mortal state of man, by prophet and apostle is 
 described in the one case, as vanity, and in the other, as a 
 dream when one awaketh — a something momentarily in the 
 field of view, then gone ; a. form of things before the eye for an 
 instant, then vanishing. We have before us then, and looking 
 at him without reference to the: future, man with all this fluc- 
 tuation of his being — man as only mortal. 
 
 Third. Let us next see if we can ^\=,cowex for what end he 
 
 was made. 
 
 I He is found, then, to be endowed with the power or 
 faculty of choosing between difierent objects as these are 
 
14 
 
 presented to his mind. It is immaterial just now, what 
 those objects may be. They are sometimes purely spiritual, 
 including God himself. It is found that man possesses such a 
 faculty, and the whole matter of human " government, legisla- 
 tion, and the distribution of justice is founded upon it." Such a 
 truth in relation to the nature of man, leads directly on to 
 another. 
 
 2. We go on with our investigation, and detect next in his 
 
 nature the capacity for immortality. I mean by this, that there 
 
 is something in the nature of man, which, without a miraculous 
 
 interposition, may prolong his existence in another state of 
 
 being, if, that is to say, such is the pleasure of God. He of 
 
 course can terminate the existence of any of his creatures if 
 
 such should be his pleasure. There is no way of avoiding the 
 
 conclusion that there is in the nature of man a provision for 
 
 his immortality , except by assuming that matter may be made 
 
 to perform all the operations which pertain to the mind ot 
 
 man, such as " imderstanding, deliberating, resolving and 
 
 choosing." 
 
 The investigation needs now to be taken along with a ref- 
 erence to both God and man. Assuming man's simple 
 mortality, that his present life is the last of his being, it is per- 
 tinent to inquire concerning the end o'i\i\% being: 
 
 1. I begin with man himself. If he is only mortal and the 
 end of his being is accomodated to himself, then sense, or 
 reason, or religion, must be the directing force, as he goes on 
 his way. 
 
 I. Suppose then, that sense is mainly the directing force ; 
 and we assume that man was created and placed in such a 
 world as this solely for the indulgence of a sensual appetite, 
 precisely what thousands would seem to suppose they were 
 created for ; precisely the end which some propose to them- 
 selves, and in the pursuit of which they consume their lives 
 before they realize that life is fairly entered upon : precisely as 
 multitudes go on, with a controlling "earthly " and "sensual" 
 instinct, without a single great and noble endeavor, until they 
 drop and are gone. But would there seem to have been a suf- 
 ficient reason for the creation of man, with his rich endowments 
 of intelect and his capacity for immortality, if " the chief end " 
 
15 
 
 o his being, as mere woidlings and sensualists uoiikl have us 
 believe, was to eat, drink, be merry and die ? If such is the 
 true philosophy of life, and such are its practical illustrations, 
 we might well exclaim, sure enough, wherefore should there 
 have been the creation of a being for such a life as this ? 
 
 2- Discussing this idea, let us next try n-tisoii as a director. 
 Reason shall now propose an end. Let it not be lost sight of, 
 that we are all along thus far supposing that m3.n'f, present ex- 
 istence has no connection with the future. To appreciate 
 this point, we must consider man as either phi/oso/>/iie and eon- 
 tcniplative, or active 3.nA practical. He may devote himself to 
 the acquisition of knowledge, he may be successful, and his 
 mind become a perfect enc3clopedia. What has he accom- 
 plished ? for 2i future state has nothing to do with our present 
 inquiry. What has he accomplished as he sits in his old age. 
 rich if you please in the love of ages, and the mastery of scien- 
 tific truth ? 
 
 Is he rewarded by the mere/Z^ai'/z^r of acquisition ? Nothing 
 like it. He has only learned how ignorant he is, i. e., how far 
 he is from perfection in knowledge. On some subjects of which 
 his confident ignorance never dreamed, he has only seen 
 enough to beset doubt and uncertainty. He has only to die, 
 and the whole fabric is fallen. But you say perhaps, that 
 those who come after him, will inherit the blessing. Inherit 
 it.' Yes and do what with it, but to bear it down to the same 
 end, and themselves drop into oblivion ? Nothing in this \iew 
 of the case, is permitted to take hold on the future; we are 
 considering man as only mortal. 
 
 But suppose next, that the reason should direct to the more 
 active and practical life; but this has no reference to a future 
 state, it only contemplates the condition of things in the pre- 
 sent world. Now, if we suppose this to be the great cyid of 
 man's being, have we found an end adequate to the creation 
 and endowment of such a being? Are we to considert his world 
 rather as a house, in which to array ones self and then he 
 down to sleep in everlasting darkness, rather than a place o 
 preparation for action on 2. fiiture stage of action ? 
 
 If we assume, that the being of man finds Us hmit b> the 
 
boundaries oi this world, that all ends hcreht would have oc- 
 casion to bless himself for his ignorance of public affairs, and 
 all objects of philanthrophy, and seeking out the most com- 
 fortable condition, wait 'till life was ended. 
 
 3. Dismiss this idea and let us suppose that religion is the 
 directing force. Understand me: I am now supposing reli- 
 gion "to become a ruling principle and to have the direction 
 and government of man," but that considerations of a future 
 state have nothing to do with it. "Waldo," said Margaret 
 Fuller to Emerson as they sat witnessing a dramatic. represen- 
 tation, "Waldo, that is religion." What religion confers on 
 its subjects here would furnish a sufficient motive for embrac- 
 ing it, but this would not constitute an erid, commensurate in 
 importance with the creation and endowment of a human soul. 
 Religion terminates in God. Its ultimate object is his glory. 
 
 He concentrates in himself the whole idea of religion. All 
 true religious effort, is on the one hand a service and an honor 
 rendered to him, and on the other hand it \s from him that the 
 satisfaction and blessedness which we call religious experience 
 is derived "every good and perfect gift." 
 
 Let us now see what religion could accomplish for man, 
 supposing it only an experience of the /r«if«/ J'^a^^. One de- 
 votes himself with a commendable zeal to its services but he 
 is not permitted to associate these with the idea of a future 
 and blissful immortality. The period of his zeal and activity 
 must soon close, he must soon die, and then, so far as he is 
 concerned, it is all the same as if he had never felt the throb- 
 bing of a pious heart. 
 
 The same liability hangs over any who may have been in- 
 flnenced to a religious life by. his efforts. Or suppose one 
 should have succeeded in persuading a great multitude' to 
 unite with himself in the worship of the Most High (iod, in 
 adoration of his "Excellent Greatness," and singing of his re- 
 nown. This would be truly a noble and fitting testimony. 
 Such loyal and dutyful and reverent manifestations would be 
 most appropriate. 
 
 Bui in the midst of all, there must come strange foreshad- 
 owings, touching coldly and terribly on the soul. All this no- 
 ble testimony must soon be as if it had never been; and for 
 all the testimony of such a crowd of witnesses, emulous to 
 
17 
 
 sjiread abroad the name and the renown of the Most High, for 
 all this, (iod must soon be "the only witness of his own glory." 
 
 If such were the limit of the religious life in all its bearings, 
 compensations and results, we could not find even in it, an 
 adequate W(/ for man's creation and endowment, and the 
 whole world might well take up the lamentation and wail it to 
 the heavens: "Wherefore hast thou made all men in vain?" 
 
 It was an exquisitely beautiful farewell to a dead brother, 
 spoken over his remains by a surviving brother. Its form of 
 words was like a limped and gently flowing strain, its pathos 
 was wonderful and heart moving; but before all, there rose up 
 from earth to heaven, a black wall with this inscription out- 
 standing on its surface: There is nothing bevoiid! 
 
 Was man made only for a life like this, and comforts so 
 grim as this? Bid such a nightmare of belief begone, if any of 
 you have been touched by it, and listen to one who holds the 
 keys of death and the whole great future: "He that believeth 
 in me, though were he dead, yet shall he live, and whosoever 
 liveth and believeth in me shall never die." This is the life 
 that Christ is offering to man with all his physical liabili- 
 ties, and death near or far off, approaching him from some 
 quarter and in some form. Lay hold on this life eternal, if 
 you lose everything else. Believe in the Lord Jesus Christ 
 and learn what he means when he tells you, you shall never 
 
 die if vou do. 
 
 TO THE ROCK 
 (»h sometimes the shadows" arc deep. 
 
 And rough seems the path to the goal; 
 And sorrows, sometimes, how they sweep 
 Like tempests down o'er the soul. 
 
 Ref.— Oh, then to the Rock let me fly. 
 
 To the Rock that is higher thim I. 
 
 Oh, sometimes how long seems the day, 
 
 And sometimes how weary my feet; 
 But toiling in life's dusty way. 
 The Rock's blessed shadow how sweet, 
 Bep.— Oh, then to the Rock let me fly. 
 
 To the Rock that is higher than I. 
 
 Oh, near to the Rock let me keep, 
 If blessings, or sorrows prevail; 
 Or climbing the mountain way steep. 
 Or walking the shadowy vale. . „„„ fl„ 
 Ref —Then quick to the Rock I can fly. 
 
 To the Rock that is higher than 1. 
 
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