^^ PRINCETON. N. J. ^ 1 Library of Dr. A. A. Eod^e. Presented. i _.. -___ .L6 B81 ^. . . Buffalo (N.Y. ) . Central Presbyterian Church. Memoir of John C. Lord, D.D _ '^ V Ow EPerme S** 1/ MEMOIR JOHN C. LORD, D. D, PASTOR OF THE CENTRAL PRESBYTERIAN CHURCH FOR THIRTY-EIGHT YEARS. CoMriLED BY Order of the Church Session. BUFFALO : THE COURIER COMPANY, PRINTERS. 187S. 2ro 2lj)c Wift tof)ose Eobe fje Estccmc& ijis Jdjiaijcst ^ ?lJoitor lit fjis ®l& ^gc as in f)is Youtf), «rnlr to Numficrlcss JFrieulis tojo a^csjpcctcti fjim rrs a JErnrDrv of Htcrital STvutijs, to^o a^rbcrcir fiim as a jfWiitistcr of (E^vtst's Crosprl, anil Mjo Hobclr {jini as a iWan, tjdis i^tlcmoir is Betricatctr. RESOLUTIONS BY THE CHURCH. The Rev. Dr. Lord, the founder of this Church, and its honored Pastor for more than a generation, has passed from earth to the better world. Although, at his venerable age and in his frail ^condition of health, this event was not wholly unexpected ; although the worn- out soldier of the Cross, for some weeks had been longing for the summons to lay down his weapons and armor, and be at rest, — yet the shock of our bereavement seemed sudden, and our hearts and tongues are still stricken with the " dull paralysis of woe." Society at large mourns the loss of a great and good man of singularly sturdy and massive character. We, his old parishioners, lament an affectionate, sympathizing friend ; a wise counselor ; a loving, faithful shepherd, endowed with those rare, magnetic qualities that irresistibly knit our affections to his, our gifted, great-hearted Pastor ; our beloved and revered Father in Israel. All his blessed ministrations ; all our sweet communions with him, are now but a beautiful memory, — yet a memory which is im- perishable, and, we trust, will be fruitful for good evermore. God grant us all a re-union with our dear and sainted Pastor in the land where there shall be no partings; no sundering of sacred ties, and where the Infinite Father shall wipe away the tears from every eye. Resolved, That the foregoing tribute be transmitted to the widow and family of the deceased, with assurances of our most respectful and affectionate sympathy, and that a copy be entered c'li the minutes of ihe Clerk. RESOLUTIONS BY THE COMMON COUNCIL. Whereas, The Rev. John C. Lord has been called from his earthly career to his heavenly abode and reward, therefore, Resolved, That the death of Dr. Lord removes from among us one of the most devout Christian ministers and eminent divines of the country. Resolved, That his long, useful and faithful service as Pastor of one of the oldest and largest Churches of the city, his distinguished and unquestioned abilities, his many Christian virtues and his unselfish devotion to the best interests of the community in which he lived, for more than half a century, make his loss one that will be sensibly realized by a large circle of mourning friends. Resolved, That the Council extend its sympathy to the family and friends of the deceased, in this their irreparable loss. Resolved, That the Council will attend the funeral of the deceased, as the last fitting tribute it can pay to the memory of the revered dead, before his remains are committed to their mother earth. Resolved, Tliat these resolutions be spread upon the minutes of the Council and a copy thereof given to the family of the deceased. Attest: F. F. F.VRGO, City Clerk. CONTENTS. Pacr. I. Biographical Sketch, 5 II. Funeral Services, 44 III. Memorial Sermon, 62 IV. Memoriai, Paper, 87 BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. BY REV. CIIAS. ^YOOD. There is a letter, still carefully preserved, written from Washington, N. H., on September 6th, 1805. In it the Rev. John Lord announces the birth of a son on the morning of the 9th of August. To the father's name was added that of the mother's family, and the child was called John Chase Lord. When he was five years of age his father removed to Burlington, in Otsego count)% of this State. There he attended the common school, from which, at the age of twelve, he entered the Union Acad- emy of Plainfield, N. H., which was founded by his uncle, the Hon. Daniel Kimball. One or two essays, and a few poems in an old scrap-book, are the only relics of this early period of his life. They are by no means phenomenal. They are just such essays, and poems, as many a boy of the same age, now studying in some high school or academy, will write this year. 6 MEMOIR OF JOIIX C. LORD. and neither the writinijs, nor the writer, will the world ever hear of. We have no record of what books he read, or of what books he refused to read. He was not a John Stuart Mill, criti- cising in his teens, verbal errors in the accepted text of Sophocles, or Euripides; neither was he a Francis Bacon, elaborating a system of phi- losophy to supersede Aristotle's, before his face showed signs of a beard. He was a thorough- going boy, and loved just such books as ordinary boys love. At this school he remained for three years. But there are no absolute standards of time : the boy of thirteen, receives more im- pressions in one year, than the man of forty, in ten ; and these few years spent in New England, breathing an atmosphere which, theologically and politicall)', is unique, gave a coloring to his thought, which never wholly faded awa}'. From New Hampshire, he went to Madison Academy — afterward Madison College. But he always spoke of his collegiate course, as having begun in 1822, when at the age of seventeen, he entered Hamilton, at Clinton, N. Y. In the two years which he spent there, his intellectual development was rapid. His literary efforts began to give promise of unusual intellec- BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 7 tual power. His poetry, too — for such it might now be called — evidenced a nature, open on the emotional, as well as the intellectual side. He was fond of reading, but preferred to read rather outside, than within the ordinary curriculum, and as the necessary result, he never took the rank in his class, to which his abilities entitled him. He cared nothing for the athletic sports which were then working their way toward the popularity in which they are now so strongly intrenched. Like Kingsley at Oxford, and Sumner at Harvard, he left behind him no legends of marvellous muscular feats. It may be doubted, if he ever handled a bat, or vaulted a bar, or shot a gun. He was not at this time a Christian. Like Augustine in the years when he studied at Carthage, he gave promise rather of an enemy, than a friend of Jesus of Nazareth. He was never dissolute, but during his collegiate course, and for some years after, he was thoroughly indif- ferent, and did whatever his tastes led him to believe would be pleasurable. He staid but two years at Hamilton ; when becoming somewhat tired of the routine of college life, and longing for a field where he could at once make use of the powers of which he was becoming conscious, he 8 MEMOIR OF JOHN C. LORD. left very suddenly, with a classmate, and went to Canada. There he undertook an enterprise, which at that time, was thoroughly characteris- tic. He became editor-in-chief of a newspaper, which was sent out through the Provinces with the irresistible name of " TJic Canadiany No copy of that sheet can now be found ; but we are safe in believing, that however uninteresting may have been its news department, its edito- rials at least, would be read. With much that was crude, there must have been a ring, and snap to the rhetoric, that would catch the eye, and arrest the attention, even of a political opponent.) Why he became satisfied with a single year's experience as an editor, is uncertain. He may have found that in his undeveloped mental condition, the draft upon his energies was too great ; or, which is perhaps more prob- able, "■The CanadiatT' brought silver so slowly into the pockets of its young editors, that a change was felt to be a necessity. This latter supposition is borne out by a fact which he tells us in his diary, that he came to Buffalo — • where he had decided to make his future home — • with only enough money for one meal, and a night's lodging. Almost immediately he was BlOCiRAPIlICAL SKETCH. 9 admitted into the office, of the then leacHnf;^ lawyers of Western New York, Messrs. Love & Tracy. He must, even at this time, have had much of that dignified, and winning presence, which afterwards drew around him so many friends, or the doors of that office would never have been opened to him, for he himself was his only recommendation. That he won his way rapidly into popular favor is evident, for at the celebration of the Semi-Centennial of our national existence, he was chosen to voice for the city, the feelings of that memorable hour. His oration is still remembered for its poetic imagery and beau- tiful diction. What Buffalo was in that year of 1825, is pictured for us by his own pen ; in his Quarter Century Sermon, he says: "The population of the then village, was about 2,500. At that time, that part l)'ing east of Washington street, was an almost inaccessible morass ; while the territory lying west of Franklin, and north of Chippewa and Niagara, was an almost un- broken forest, where the huntsman often pur- sued the game abounding in the primeval woods. I remember well, that within a }'ear or two after I became a resident of this city, lO MEMOIR OF JOIIX C. LORD. an enormous panther was killed a little be- yond North street, in the rear of what was then called the Cotton farm. Some of the old residents will remember that the captors of this formidable animal, one of unusual dimensions, had their trophy upon exhibition, at the old Farmers' Hotel on Main street, for some time. During the first year of my residence the Erie Canal was completed. I saw the waters of the Atlantic poured into Lake Erie, one of the ceremonies of the celebration of the great enterprise which united the lakes with the ocean. Between Buffalo, and Black Rock, there was then a decided rix'alry. the inhabitants of these two villages striving manfully to fix in their respective localities the focus of trade, and exhibiting toward each other an enmity like that anciently existing between the Jews, and the Samaritans. Of course, the\' could not celebrate the completion of the Erie Canal together; hence there were two celebrations, and two first boats to pass from the lake to Albany — and which should take the precedence? — a moment- ous question at the time ! I do not now remember whether General Porter, the Magnus Apollo of Black Rock, or Judge Wilkcson, the BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. II Jupiter Tonans of Buffalo, arrived first at the capital of the State. Happily, these contro- versies are now matters of history; the two rival villages are utterly lost in the prosperous and populous city which has absorbed them both." In the following year, for the purpose of enlarging somewhat his very meagre income, he started an academic school on Main street, near Clinton. His reputation was already so well established, that very quickly the seats in his room, were filled with scholars. Some who were that winter under his instruction, are still among the most influential men of our city, and have cheerfully given their testimony to his abil- ities as a teacher. In 1827, he was made Deputy Clerk of Erie county; and on February 19, 1828, he was admitted to the Bar. His life during the first year of practice was not very different from that of his professional associates. In the last month of the famous twelve occurred the one romance of his life, his marriage to Mary E. Johnson, daughter of Dr. Ebenezer Johnson, afterwards the first Mayor of Buffalo. This was an elopement ; but it was probably the most dignified elopement that has ever taken place since the world began. For 12 MEMOIR OP^ JOHX C. LOUD. reasons, ^\■hich both Mr. and Mrs. Johnson sub- sequently saw were insufficient, they had opposed tlicir daughter's marriage. Mr. Lord made but little effort to conceal his intention of carrying out his purpose, and the wedding was witnessed by a large number of the leading people of the village. During his ministerial life. Dr. Lord had no firmer friends than Dr. and Mrs. Johnson. At the time of his marriage, he was a very regular attendant upon the services of the First, the only Presbyterian Church then in the \il- lage. lie was soon elected a trustee, and took much interest in the temporal welfare of the society. He was unwilling to go further. To become a Christian, required sacrifices which he had no desire to make. Some phases of the religious experience through which he soon passed, have been preserved on the pages of his journal. It was a strong man's struggle with a strong will, but the victory was complete. When his mother was told that her son had offered prayer in one of the church meetings, she wept with gladness, and said that her greatest wish had been granted ; her son had become, she felt assured, a sincere Christian, and she was ready to depart in i)eace. BIOC.RArillCAL SKETCH. I 3 There was still another struggle before him. He began to feel that he ought to become a preacher of the Gospel. It was not easy for him to relinquish the hopes of the large wealth which he saw already gathering. But he was not long in making the decision. In 1831, he entered Auburn Seminary, for the study of the- ology. He might, in a few months' preparation, with the foundation he already had, have been admitted to the ministry without a regular theological course; but with his love of thor- oughness, he refused this offer, though anxious to commence the work at once. After graduating at Auburn, and spending a few months in preaching at the little village of Fayetteville, in this State, he was ordained, and installed over the Presbyterian Church of Gen- eseo, Livingston Co., N. Y., in September, 1833. Of the character of his preaching at this time, we may judge not only from its fruits, which were very remarkable, but by the testimony of some who sat under it. It was thoroughly evangelical. His sermons were less thoughtful, but not less earnest, than after his removal to Buffalo, where he felt the spur and answered to it. His theolog- ical stand-point varied but little from the time 14 MF.MOIR OK JOHN C. LORD. when lie left the Seminar)', to the hour of his death. He stood firmly on the creed which ]\Iil- ton has clothed with immortal words in Paradise Lost; which Augustine, and Luther, and Calvin, and Knox, and Bunyan, and Whitefield, and Rob- ert Hall preached with a power, before which selfishness and sin slunk away abashed. He was intensely orthodox according to the Genevan standards. His faith was not born of ignorance, but of the travail of a mind, too honest to reject any portion of a creed, of which Mr. Froude says, when comparing it with other theological systems, "Calvinism is nearer to the facts, however harsh or foreboding those facts may seem." If his statement of doctrine was of such form, and flavor, as to recall the preaching of the six- teenth centur\', it was not that he differed in belief from the vast majority of the reformed clergy of his, or the present da}', rather that he was unwilling to re-translate, into more modern forms, the truths which had been the bone and sinew of Scotland and England, both the Old and New. Our English Bible to-day, is a very different book in appearance, from that which King James' translators gave to the world. The words have altered their form, though every sen- ■ BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 1 5 tcnce speaks the same truth now, as then. Dr. Lord loved the old, better than the new. He feared, and there was sufficient cause, that in the sentences, whose form was novel, false doctrine might without suspicion be embodied. All his life long, he loved to seek the old paths, and walk in them. If he ever allowed himself less liberty than would have been lawful, he was more than compensated for his loss, in the straiehtness of his course, and the steadiness of his step. While he worked on at Geneseo, the progress of events in Buffalo, was causing the way to be opened for his return to the city in Avhich he had been known only as a lawyer, and a teacher. In 1835 the First Presbyterian Church had sent out a colony. The Presbytery of Buffalo organ- ized these thirty-three members into a society, with the name of the Pearl Street Presbyte- rian Church, on November 15th, of the same year. They were holding their services in a building which Dr. Lord himself has thus de- scribed : " The edifice was rudely constructed of hemlock boards doubled upon scantling, and filled in with tan-bark. Its cost was about three hundred dollars." By this society, a unanimous and hearty call was placed in his hands. Un- l6 MK.MOIR OF JOHN C. LORD. willing as lie was, to leave the people to whom he had become greatly attached, hoping that in time he woidd be able to fulfill his long-cherished plan of w^orking in the valley of the Mississippi, he yet felt that this was an opportunity of such large usefulness that he dare not refuse it. The call was accepted. He preached his first sermon in his new charge, in the month of No\'ember, 1835. In a year from that time, the prosperous young society had completed a church building, at a cost of some thirty thousand dollars. It was of a form so peculiar, as to be still vi\'idly remembered by all who ever worshipped within its walls. Built in the shape of an egg, lighted from above, it was considered by a newspaper correspondent of the time, to be " not unlike the famous city Temple of London." But the pastor soon became more famous than the church. His preaching forced atten- tion even from those who were able to sleep through the musical services, which, by the aid of a well-trained choir, and so large a number of musical instruments that they were popularK^ called a " brass band," were by no means un- imposing. His thought ^\■as original, and his courage in attacking the popular sins of the IJIOGRArillCAL SKE'li'II. I7 people, was leonine. The famous French preach- ers, were not more fearless than was he. During his ministry, his life was more than once threat- ened by men who knew no other way to silence a tongue, whose arguments they could not answer. He was a rapid writer, for all his life long he was as great a lover of books, almost as Macaulay himself, and he was full of information on nearly every subject. Facts, and theories, had not been tumbled so hurriedly, or promiscuously into the corners of his brain that only a laborious process of digging could exhume them. His kno\\ledge was ticketed ; what he wanted he knew where to find at once. His mind was trained to do its best, without being whipped to its task. Many of his most eloquent sermons and addresses, were prepared so quickly, that from the pen of a man less thoroughly well informed, they would have been superficial, and uninter- esting. " He writes rapidly," says Dr. Samuel Johnson, " who writes out of his own head," and Dr. Lord was one who had rarely to refer to a book, after he took liis seat at his desk. In the city of which he had now become a res- ident for the second time, he felt an interest which never shrank. He loved Ikiffalo ; he loved to 1 8 MEMOIR OF JOIIX C. LORD. praise her beautiful streets, and to hear others praise them. Among his poems, which were pub- lished in a volume in 1869, he has not forgotten to sound her honor. Queen of the Lakes, whose tributary seas Stretch from the frozen regions of the Nortli To Southern climates, where the wanton breeze O'er field and forest goes rejoicing fortli. As Venice, to the Adriatic Sea Was wedded, in her brief, but glorious day; So broader, purer waters, are to thee. To whom a thousand streams, a dowry pay. What tho' the wild winds o'er thy waters sweep. While lingering Winter, howls along thy shore, And solemnly "deep calleth unto deep," While storm and cataract responsive roar. 'Tis music fitting for the brave and free. Where Enterprise and Commerce vex the waves ; The soft voluptuous airs of Italy Breathe among ruins, and are woo'd by slaves. Thou art the Sovereign City of the Lakes, Crowned and acknowledged ; may thy fortunes be Vast as the domain which thine empire takes. And onward as thy waters to the sea. Mis affection for Buffalo was shown not in poetry alone. To her he bequeathed his mag- BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. I9 nificcnt library of several thousand volumes, containing many rare and valuable works. No one of her citizens was more often called upon than he, to speak as her representative, upon occasions when an oration was demanded. Such requests were never refused, though by them, his energies, strained already in his heavy professional duties, were at times sorely over- taxed. By his Presbytery, he was sent as a representative to the General Assembly of 1836, the last truly oecumenical council of the denom- ination which was to meet till 1870. The sepa- ration which had long been widened between the two parties of the Church, was consummated in 1837, when two organizations were formed, which were popularly called "Old " and " New" School. That he would feel more in sympathy with the conservatives of the old school, was made certain by all his methods of thought. For a score of years, his Church stood alone as the representative of that type of Presbyterianism in Buffalo. But no one rejoiced more heartily than he, when in 1869 the two " schools " were merged into one Presby- terian Church. He was ready to raise his voice in protest, when- ever he saw an\' deserting the forms of faith, to 20 MEMOIR OF JOHN C. LOUD. wliich he was so intense!)' attached, both b}' edu- cation, and conviction. Those were days in which a man of courage and individuahty, who would not be swept along with the crowd, had to sleep with his armor on. The land was overrun with theologi- cal and philosophical freebooters, who were terrible as destructive, but feeble as constructive forces. There Avas no ark that they feared to touch. There was no altar which they respected. In France, Comte had crushed and mangled — so it was believed — all existing systems of theology, and ignoring even the fragments, had built up, of freshly-hewn stones, something which was called the "Religion of Humanity." In England, many had become disciples of the French Positivist. Harriet Martineau \\'as preparing to write the " Atkinson Letters." The nature of man was being restudied, and results were reached, that were subversive of the existence of a God, and of personal responsibility. Oxford was torn with the dissensions of Ritualist and Evangelical. Brothers — like the Newmans — were separating, one turning to the Romish Church, the other to Atheism. Here in America, the foundations of men's faith \\-cre being as rudely shaken. In Boston, Theodore Parker, with an eloquence BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 21 seldom surpassed, was drawing crowds of young men away from orthodox}^, and giving them, in its stead, beautiful words, and inspiring moral precepts, but no atonement for sin, no assured hope beyond the grave. The young pastor of the Pearl Street Church had eyes and ears open. He knew what was going on in the great world. He was not one to stand idly, witnessing the encroachment of what he believed to be fatal errors, and utter no warning. He spoke plainly in his sermons to young men, a volume of which was published in 1838, and he spoke with equal plainness in his more public discourses, and lectures. In an address delivered before the students of Ham- ilton College, he says : " In the nineteenth century, the grand hin- drance to the progress of the Gospel is to be found in the perversion, obscuration, or open denial of the supernatural element of Christian- ity. The philosophy of Locke and his followers, and of Hobbes and Bentham, who have super- added the utilitarian scheme to the materialism of the former, are thought by their admirers to have disenchanted the universe of the spiritual and supernatural. There is no longer a 'divinity 3 22 MEMOIR OF JOHN C. LORD. that stirs within us,' or without us. The innate and ideal are consigned to the tomb of the Capulets, and the mine and the cotton factory- are the divinities of mountain and rivulet. Of the effect of this philosophy upon the fine arts, this is not the time nor place to speak ; it is enough to say, that this philosophy is more grossly material than the polytheistic, which, though it could not elevate man religiously, at least preserved his reverence for the super- natural, his conceptions of the ideal, and gave to the world those miracles of art, or, to use the words of one of our own poets: ' Those forms of beauty seen no more, Yet once to art's rapt vision given.' " From 1840, to 1850, his thought rapidl}' ripened, but lost nothing of its freshness, and elasticit}-. In 1 841, the honorary degree of Doctor of Divinity from his alma mater, Hamilton, was conferred upon him. During these years he received more invita- tions than he could accept, from literary associa- tions of the towns, and cities, to deliver lectures. Few men at that time could call together a larger audience ; very few gave their audiences as solid, or acceptable mental pabulum. His lectures on " The Land of Ophir," " The Progress of Civil- BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 23 ization," " The Star Aldebaran," " The War of the Titans," and "The Romance of History," were famous throi-ighout this, and the neighbor- ing States. A number of them, gathered into a vokime, were published in 185 1. That these platform utterances were not for amusement alone, the reading of a single page of any of them would be sufficient evidence. At the close of his lecture on " The Star Aldebaran," after a beautiful description of what that star has looked upon in the past, and what it may look upon in the cycles of the future, he says : " Thy grave, O hearer, shall Aldebaran watch when the fire of thine eye is quenched, when the bloom on thy cheek has faded, and guard the portals of thy grave, until the day when the Master of Life shall cast down the throne, and break the dominion of Death. Thy spirit will soon leave its house of clay, and pass out upon the universe, and perchance, to this distant star thou mayest wing thine uninterrupted way ; and, bethink thee, as thou surveyest its glories, that its light is resting upon the remote planet of thy birth, and glistening upon the marble that affection has reared to thy memory — over the deserted and decaying tabernacle that enshrined thy soul, and which is again to receive it when 24 MEMOIR OF JOHN C. LORD. raised a spiritual, and incorruptible bod}', by that word of power, that from emptiness, and noth- ingness, from darkness and chaos, summoned at the beginning, matter and motion, light and life." In his equally famous lecture on the "Ro- mance of History," having described the origin and results of the Crusades, in sentences which are almost as rhythmical as blank verse, he asks : " How is it that the Christian, and the Hebrew have alike suffered the soil sacred to both, to remain cursed by Mahomedan hordes, and all her sacred places dishonored, and blasphemed by the sign of the crescent ? There is no other explanation than the prophecies of the Bible, which declare that Judea must remain in the hands of the spoiler, and the abomination of desolation continue in the holy place, until the set time for the return of the Hebrew, when he shall acknowledge him whom his fathers cruci- fied ; and so to-day, the Mosque of Omar stands on the site of the temple, and the Christian pilgrim must pay a price to behold the sacred places of Jerusalem ; he must undergo the scru- tiny of a bearded Turk before he can kneel at the sepulchre of the Saviour." BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 2$ Of the year 1849, '^vhen the city was shrouded for many months in gloom, he speaks in his Quarter Century Sermon : "During my ministry in this city, we have at various times been visited by the pestilence which walketh in darkness. No advent of the cholera during my pastorate, has been so severe as that of 1849. This disease commenced its ravages early in June of that year, and did not wholly disappear before the month of November. At times, the number of deaths was from forty to fifty in a day. A general gloom spread over the city ; men looked anxiously in each other's faces; those who were in full health to-day were coffined on the morrow. Every day the names of some well-known citizens were cat- alogued among the dead. Many who were at- tacked and recovered, were reported for a time as deceased. More than once I was saluted joyfully in the streets by some friend who had heard that I was dead. It was in truth, a time of mourning, lamentation and woe ; and the sad- ness of the people ^^'as like that of the ancient Hebrews in the valley of Hadad-rimmon. The remembrances of that disastrous summer will never be effaced from my mind." 26 MEMOIR OF JOHN C. LORD. He began the year 1850 with a New Year's Sermon, from which an extract was widely copied for its beauty by the newspapers : " The impressions made upon the sands by the current of human actions and human passions during the year that is past, are now hardened and fixed in stone. As the soft substance of clay, receiving the impression of the waters and marking their motion, course and flow, becomes at length a rock, whose imperishable engravings are read by succeeding generations ; and as the growth and products of trees and plants, and the anatomy of animals of different ages, make their impressions in the earth, which, anon, hardening into stone, reveals their forms and characteristics to subsequent periods, so the tablets of time passed, retain and reveal the actions, the passions, the events, which are to be fully disclosed when the strata shall be broken up, and the deposit of different ages, and every race, shall be read in the great day of final revelation. This is the true eternity of temporal things. Who would think that the yielding sand, in which the foot- step of the passer-by leaves its impression, should reveal that foot-print a thousand years afterwards, to the men of a remote Lfcneration? Who would BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 2/ believe, unless it had been so abundantly proven, that the figures, wrought in the soft clay made in sport, which the next rain might be expected to wash away, should appear in another age, graven in a rock as with a pen of iron ? These results science has demonstrated in the natural world. They are in the moral world indicated by experience, and attested by revelation. What an extraordinary and beautiful analogy is this. As in the natural world the most minute traces of the lowest forms of life and action, are dis- closed by a process at once universal and exact ; so, the words we speak, the thoughts we con- ceive, the actions we perform, falling upon the sand remain fixed in an eternal record. Philos- ophers say, that the earth retains and reverber- ates every uttered sound forever. We make our thoughts, our words and our actions, in time, our companions through eternity. With what impor- tance does this view clothe the life that now is ; with what power the things, which we are apt to regard as idle dreams, which seem to perish as they pass, but whose shadows, falling on the cur- tains of eternity, are fastened forever. What an event is the beginning of a new year, in which we are to write for the world to come on the 28 MEMOIR OF JOHN C. LORD. strata of which — to pursue our geological figure — all actions are to be graven, as with the point of a diamond upon a tablet of adamant, for an everlasting record. How do these thoughts dig- nify the passing moment, and the passage of the years of time, on whose fleeting sands are writ- ten the enduring records, which, for good or ill, we are to read throughout the cycles of our endless existence." It was also in this year, on Thanksgiving Day, that he delivered the most memorable discourse of his life. If the Church of that day, was called to pass through struggles which some feared, and many hoped would end in death ; the State, had reached a crisis not less momentous. In 1620, a Dutch trading-vessel landed twenty negro slaves in Virginia. What prophet could then have fore- told the stupendous issues which hung upon that apparently insignificant event ? In 1850, all men saw that the permanenc}^ of the republic was imperiled from one cause alone — the existence of slavery in the Southern States. The South was solid in its determination to maintain a s)\stcm which had made her planters wealth)', and which promised more in the future, than in the past. The North was di\-itled, b)' no BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 29 means equally. A large and influential portion sympathized with the South, on the ground, that slavery was constitutional. Another large body of Northern citizens wished for the abandonment of all enforced labor, but saw no way in which it could be done. There was beside, a small, but now rapidly-increasing number of so-called abolitionists. They believed slavery to be the gangrene on the body politic, and like John Brown, many of them were ready to shed their blood, if by no other means, the foul spot could be removed. Some of these were men true and noble. Some of them were over-zealous, and reckless as to the instruments they used in the consummation of their desires. A Fugitive Slave Law had been enacted on September 18, 1850, which authorized the slave- holder to arrest and seize his fugitive slaves in any State of the Union. No law was ever more thoroughly discussed or more bitterly opposed. It was the one subject of which men spoke to each other, as they met on the streets and in their places of business. It was to be expected, that a clergyman of decided opinions, would make use of the opportunity offered by a service of a na- tional character, to discuss a question so impor- 30 MEMOIR OF JOHN C. LORD. tant in all its bearings. Dr. Lord was one who had the most intense reverence for " the powers that be." He believed them ordained of God. "We take the ground," said he in that sermon, " that the action of civil governments within their appropriate jurisdiction, is final and conclusive upon the citizen." From this premise he drew the conclusion, that unless it could be proven, that God has never permitted slavery under any circumstances, no citizen has a right to resist laws which recognize and protect that institu- tion. The sermon was printed, and widely dis- tributed, and read, and misunderstood. It was believed that it opened the way for governmental anarchy; that it would authorize a government in making theft, and arson, and murder, legal or obligatory. He had written "the action of civil governments within their appropriate jurisdic- tion" is final; but in the heat of controversy, men leaped to conclusions, and Dr. Lord was called a Judas, and a Benedict Arnold. That his sermon not only expressed the opinion of a large number of the most highly-respected men of the countr}', but expressed it with a logical force sur- passing all similar pamphlets, is attested b}' many letters which were received when the discussion, BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 3 1 caused by its publication, was at its height. Dr. Spencer, a clergyman of Brooklyn whose reputa- tion was national, wrote him of the discourse in terms of highest commendation. " It is the clear- est exposition of the truth we have yet had," he said. From Washington, President Fillmore sent the following letter: Washington, D. C, Jan. 13, 185 1. Rev. J. C. Lord, J/f Dear Sir : " The cares of state" leave me no time for general reading, and it was not till this evening, that I found leisure to peruse your admirable sermon on the " Higher Law and Fugitive Slave Bill." I return you my thanks, most cordially and sincerely, for this admirable discourse. You have rendered the nation a great and valuable service, and I am highly gratified to learn, that thousands and tens of thousands have been reprinted in New York, and sent here, and are now being distributed under the franks of members of Congress. It cannot fail to do good. It reaches a class of people of excellent intentions, but somewhat bigoted prejudices, who could be reached in no other way. Again I 32 MEMOIR OF JOHN C. LORD. thank you for the service you have done my countr)', and am Truly yours, Millard Fillmore. Ten years later, like Dr. Lord himself, nearly all who had then sympathized most cordially with him, became known as earnest advocates of the Union. In many instances the same principles w^ere held, but the secession of the Southern States, reversed the conclusions which had been reached under very different circumstances. By the General Assembly which met in 1852, in Charleston, S. C, he was elected moderator by acclamation, an honor which has been conferred upon but few. Early in the same year, the new church edifice, whose foundations had been laid in 1848, at the time of the sale of the egg-shaped building, was dedicated, as the Central Presby- terian Church, a name which for reasons then considered sufficient, had been substituted for that of Pearl Street. The new church audi- torium was at that time, the largest west of New York, but it was crowded, even to the aisles, for many Sabbath evenings in succession, during the series of sermons, which it was his custom to BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 33 deliver in the winter months. Those on the "Connection of Sacred and Profane History" are still fresh in the memory of the people. Near the close of one of these, on the " Descendants of Ishmael," occurs a description so beautiful, that we will make this page the amber to preserve it, for the enjoyment of all who shall ever read this sketch. " Over what sacred monuments does the Ish- maelite, their divinely-appointed guardian, keep watch and ward. He waits by Hor, where Aaron reposes in his last sleep, and conducts the traveler amid the eternal solitudes of desert, and mountain, to Jebel Haroun, or Aaron's Mount, and shows him the sepulchre of the Hebrew priest. Sinai rises from the desert, with the same abrupt majesty, as when, from its fire-clad sum- mits, God uttered the law. There still is the vast ampitheatre where the children of Israel, tremb- ling with fear, beheld the solid mountain move at the touch of its Maker, its summit crowned with thunders, its foundation shaken by earth- quakes, and heard the words of the first covenant proclaimed, amid blackness, and tempest in the tones of Omnipotence, and with the sound of 34 MEMOIR OF JOHN C. LORD. that trumpet, ^\•hich hoard once more, shall wake the dead and summon them to the judi,niient of the eternal law to whose annunciation it gave witness. The Arab guards this awful monument, his shout alone breaks the solitudes of Jebel et Tur, the bells of his camels, alone disturb the perpetual silence which Sinai keeps, since from her granite precipices God uttered his voice. The wild man of the desert guides the traveler to Horeb, the Mount of condemnation, where, awestruck, he gazes upon the rocks which seem to have been fashioned in their wild and savage grandeur for the utterance of the Law in the ears of the apostate children of Adam. To the prophetical nation, who retain unchanged, the manners and customs of the Patriarchs, is com- mitted the custody, not only of the sacred places within their own tcrritor)^ but of the adjacent soil. Over Palestine, the Arab wanders, like a spectre of the past. He waters his camels at the wells of Isaac and Jacob, he haunts that wavcless lake wliich entombs the cities of the plains, the onl}' living thing in that valley of death, so judg- ment smitten, that time, which changes all, has left untouched its Dead Sea, in which is found no form of life, and its blasted borders, upon which BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 35 no dew falls, or rain from heaven to water the parched and desolate earth. As he flits around the sea of death, so he guards the city of the dead, the rock-bound fortress of Edom. He dwells in all the places of Israel, and Esau, the living likeness of the past, beside its hallowed tombs, the present witness, verifying the inscrip- tions upon its ancient monuments, the sole abiding representative of Abraham, remaining on the soil rendered sacred to all time, and to all generations, by the utterance there, of the Divine Oracles, by the manifestation of the powers of the world to come, by the advent and expiation of the Son of God." It had been his custom, to preach year after year without any vacation. During the winter of 1859-60, feeling the need of a change, he spent six months, by leave of absence from his Church, in Mobile. The time w^as used not in recuperation alone. He preached every Sabbath at the Government Street Church. This was his only absence from his parish, during his whole pastorate of thirty-eight }'ears. He returned from Mobile just before the breaking out of the civil war. While the conflict lasted between the North and South, he never wa\'ered in his ad- 36 MEMOIR OF JOHN C. LORD. herancc to the Northern cause. Right, and law, he beHeved, were with her armies, and with that behef, it would have been impossible for him to have taken any other position, than the one he so firmly held, and so eloquently advocated till peace was declared. That one who had long filled so prominent a position, would often be urged to accept invita- tions to some other field of labor, was to be ex- pected ; but the calls which he received, whether to other pastorates, or to occupy a professor's chair in a theological seminary, were declined, with but one exception, that from a Church in Pittsburgh, without any interruption whatever in his relationship to his own Church. But in this instance he was entreated so heartily to remain, by his own people, and many of the leading citi- zens of Buffalo, that he felt it right to refuse the call from that center of Old School Presbyter- ianism. From 1868-70 he began to feel, as he had not before, that his pastoral duties, were somewhat overburdcnsome. He was not one to complain ; and only after his people had made, and pressed the request did he give his consent to the calling of a colleague. The Rev. A. L. Benton, of Lima, N. Y., accepted the request of BIOGRArHICAL SKETCH. 37 the Central Church, and became in 1870 his co- pastor. Of him Dr. Lord never failed to speak in terms of high commendation. This relationship was severed in 1872, by Mr. Benton's acceptance of a call from the Presbyterian Church at Fre- donia, N. Y., where he is still laboring among a united people, with much success. It was now Dr. Lord's request, that the Church should ac- cept his resignation, so that the pastorate might be given entirely into the hands of his successor. With great reluctance, this request was at last granted; and in September, 1873, the relationship which had existed for nearly forty years was dissolved. During the few years which remained to him his failing powers were cheerfully used to further every cause of righteousness and mercy. The last extended journey of his life, was to Cleve- land, as a Commissioner to the General Assembly, an appointment which he had desired, in order that, by his influence, resolutions might there be adopted, recognizing and commending, the work of the Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals. He was one of the founders of that organization, and was always one of its most hearty and liberal supporters. 38 MEMOIR OF JOHN C. LORD. While health permitted, he was a regular attendant upon the services of the Church, ^^•here he had so long preached the word, and no more sympathetic or uncritical hearer ever sat in its pews. His happiness was great whenever a meas- ure of success was granted to his successor. His most earnest efforts were exerted by voice, and act, to enlarge, to the measure of his hope, the prosperity for which he offered most fervent prayers. All this he did in a manner so unas- suming and beautiful, as to win the admiration and love, of many to whom he had never before revealed the more tender side of his nature. For he was a man, whose character was so built up of contradictions, that he was always specially liable to be misunderstood. He was stern, but so gentle of heart, that often as he read an affect- incr passage of some book, he would lean his head upon his hand, and weep like a woman over a tale of suffering. He would not suffer his personal rights to be trampled upon, yet no man was more often the victim of excessive kindheartedness. He was zealous in his accu- mulation of wealth, and economical in its use; yet he preached all his life for a nominal salary, and few men of his limited means, were more BIO(JRAPHICAL SKETCH. 39 ready to bestow charity upon the needy, or to lend his name to aid a friend in pecuniary embar- rassment. He loved old truths, and old forms, yet his sermons were always marked by their originality of expression, and freedom from the rigid rules of the scholastics, as to arrangement of materials. He was systematic in nothing except theology. He had high views as to the authority of the ministerial office, but he was free from professional affectations, and never sought or desired any " benefit of clergy." He had both the feminine and masculine tem- perament. He was not by any means indifferent to commendation, but he was not to be turned aside by opposition, or discouraged by failure. He delighted in the New Testament, and when unable to read himself, he would ask repeatedly, in the course of a morning, for some chapter from the Gospels or Epistles, but he had a reverence as great, an affection as warm, for the Old Testa- ment. " He loved to strike again, the harp of David, to place to his lips the golden trumpet of Isaiah," to clash the cymbals of Miriam, to cry with the exultation of the triumphant He- brews, " who is like unto thee, O Lord, among the gods, who is like thee, glorious in holiness, 40 MEMOIR OF JOHN C. LORD. fearful in praises, doing wonders." He expressed freely, and with decision, his desires concerning trifles, but throughout the last two years of his life, unable through failing vision to read a word, lover of books that he was, and eager to have his friends read to him, he uttered no word of com- plaint, he expressed no wish that his eyesight had been spared. " The ways of the Almighty are unimpeachable," was one of the last sentences he ever spoke. While never denying, in mock humility, those powers of mind and person, which made him so successful as a public speaker, he relied as a preacher of the Gospel for success, on that God of whom he sinirs in his ode to the Deitv. O God, unchangeable and infinite, In whom all being is, and was, before Creation broke upon the eternal night, Or ancient silence heard the rush and roar Of mingled elements, when earth and sea And air, and chaos, strove for mastery — While Darkness, brooded o'er the giant strife — And earth was void and formless — without liglit or life- Yet in thy counsels, from eternity, All things were manifest — all creatures known And visible, to tliine Omniscient eye, As when the light — at tliy commandment shone BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 4I Around the new-formed universe — when sang The morning stars, and heaven's high arches rang With shouts of praise — creation's jubilee Like mingling waters, of the upheaving sea — ******* Millions of eyes, O God, are gazing out Upon thy works — Who knows them ? Who hath found The bound of Being ? Philosophy, in doubt Explores, irreverent, the eternal round, — And Reason wanders wide, till she has heard The still, small voice, of thy revealed Word, Which unfolds mysteries to her darkened sight And proves — whatever else is wrong — that God is right. No eye hath seen Thee — uncreated One ! Dwelling in the thick darkness, which conceals The glory, none can view and live. Thy Son Alone, to the whole universe reveals The God-head's brightness, whose transcendent beam Is in the God-man's person, tempered seen; The eternal life is bodied forth in sight — The Finite apprehends in Him the Infinite, Without children of his own, he lavished un- stintedly his fatherly love upon an adopted daughter. When in 1873, her son, a noble and chivalric officer of the regular army, was mas- sacred by the Indians, his grief was like that of one who weeps for his own flesh and blood. His lassitude increased rapidly during the fall of 1876. He knew, and often said, that he would 42 iMEMOIR OF JOHN C. LORD. spend the winter in heaven. He was so feeble at the opening of the new year, that his easy- chair was exchanged for the bed which he was never again to leave, till carried to the grave by the hands of men who loved him. For two days he was unconscious of earthly sights or sounds. Like Christian in the land of Beulah, he was but waiting for the coming of the summons from the Celestial City. On Sunday, the 2 1st of January, at the hour of evening service, he drew one deep breath, and his long life Avas over. Within sight of the home A\here he spent twenty- five happy years, encircled on every side by the parishioners and friends of his youth and matu- rity, his body lies in Forest Lawn, of which, in the flush of his ripe and vigorous manhood, with the thought it may be of this hour he wrote: Place for the dead ! Not in the noisy City's crowd and glare, By heated walls and dusty streets, but where The balmy breath of the free summer air Moves, murmuring softly, o'er the new-made grave. Rustling among the boughs which wave. Above the dwellers there. Rest for the dead ! Far, far from the turmoil and strife of trade. Let the broken house of the soul be laid ; BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 43 Where the violets blossom in the shade, And the voices of nature do softly fall O'er the silent sleepers all — Where rural graves are made. Place for the dead ! In the quiet glen where the wild vines creep, And the desolate mourner may wait and weep In some silent place, o'er the loved who sleep, Nor sights, nor sounds profane, disturb their moan, With God, and with the dead alone, "Deep calleth unto deep." 44 MExMOIR OF JOHN C. LORD. FUNERAL SERVICES. ADDRESS BY REV. DR. A. T. CHESTER. " Or ever the silver cord be loosed, or the golden bowl be broken, or the pitcher be broken at the fountain, or the wheel broken at the cistern ; then shall the dust return to the earth as it was, and the spirit shall return unto God who gave it." Standing on this solemn occasion, in this sacred desk, which our departed friend and brother honored for so many years of his long ministry, and to which his death seems to give a new consecration, I would give utterance to words which shall be in accordance with his life-long teachings, and with the example he has given us. I have chosen therefore, as the basis of a few remarks, these words of scripture which were so often on his lips. He used them in his prayer, or in his address, on every funeral occasion at which he officiated in his later years. This splendid imagery of the Hebrew poet was especially im- pressive, as his fine imagination gave background to every tint and shade, — and when some divine message of momentous bearing was thus revealed, FUNERAL SERVICES. 45 for him it had a double charm. He accepted the teaching as from God, while each grand figure stirred his lively fancy, and every telling word stamped itself upon his faithful memory. To everything of earth there must be an end. To the longest life, though it reach beyond the three-score years and ten, the time must come when the throbbing heart shall cease to beat, when the silver cord of the nervous system shall be broken, and the brain in its golden bowl shall cease to thrill with thought, when all the mech- anism of life shall cease to move, like the breaking of the pitcher at the fountain, or the wreck of the wheel at the cistern, — the most striking emblems of disaster among the Orientals, where water and life are nearly synonymous. To the most successful ministry, though it be continued beyond a generation, the end must come. Though plans be successful, and treasures be counted by the million, yet must the owner die ; though life be prolonged in the enjoyment of financial victory, yet at length the end must come, to the richest as to the poorest ; to those of noblest intellect and highest culture, as to the dull and uneducated. " For the living know they shall die." We do not need inspired teaching to 4^ MEMOIR OF JOHN C. LORD. convince us of this. ,We know it, but we do not heed it, and so God comes nigh by his providence and gives us proof of the momentous fact, as some fellow-being is struck down by the angel of death, and we are permitted to look upon the cold clay on its way to the grave. And even then, such is the sluggishness of our spiritual nature — while we may be convinced that another is dead, we do not always reach the conclusion, each for himself, I too must die. It is the single relig- ious design of our funerals, not to comfort the living, not to honor the dead, but to impress the lesson of mortality, to lead each one who joins in the sad procession to say, I too must die. And that not for the saddening effect thus produced, not to bring gloom and darkness over the mind, but to lead to the contemplation of the future life, and to the preparation necessary for its hajDpy condition. This same word that speaks so impressively of the end of the mortal also reveals the immortal. This invests death with so much interest and gives it such importance. " Then shall the dust return to the earth as it was, and the spirit shall return unto God who gave it." This is the proper, most natural disposition to make of the decaying body FUNERAL SERVICES. 47 when life has departed, to bury it in the earth and let its disorganized particles return, as soon as possible, to the dust from which it was made. How much better than any attempt to preserve it from utter decay, resulting only in the hideous mummy-forms of the Egyptians — how much bet- ter than the burning and the preservation of the ashes by the Pagans, in their ignorance of God's purpose or their want of faith in His power to give a spiritual body in place of the natural. Yes, even these dear bodies Ave do not lose by the power of death. Out of the dust of their decay He who raised them up at first as the habitation of the living soul, shall build a spiritual temple for the everlasting residence of the immortal spirit. But this is the teaching of most import- ance : " And the spirit shall return unto God who gave it." The soul of man, that came from God, shall go back to God. That which has such godlike attri- butes could have no other origin, can have no other destination. While this is purely a doc- trine of revelation, it seems also most natural and reasonable. Upon each of these glowing spirits of ours He retains the creator's claim. Made in his likeness and image and by the breath 48 MEMOIR OF JOHN C. LORD. of His mouth, it can neither escape His notice nor avoid his control. He has fitted it for im- mortahty, and made immortality its heritage. When therefore, death destroys its connection with the decaying body, it must make its way directly to its maker to learn its everlasting des- tination. As neither the fact of existence, nor the time and place of our being was left to our own choice, as in all this we are under the control of the Almighty Maker's will, so our future home must be settled by Him — to Him must the spirit return as soon as it is freed from its fetters of clay — when it becomes capable of reaching the divine presence. It cannot stay here, where as we know by experience, earthly bodies are essen- tial to the spiritual movement and development. It cannot go to some other world beyond the reach of God's presence, for that presence per- vades the entire universe. The spirit in obedi- ence to the law of its being must return unto God who gave it. Nor are we left in any doubt as to the method of securing a favorable recep- tion for the immortal part when it shall have put off mortalit}-. h^iith in the Lord Jesus Christ, penitence for sin, and the purpose to sin no more, and a life si)cnt under the iufiuciice of such faith FUNERAL SERVICES. 49 and penitence, shall secure for us admission to the joys of God's special presence in Heaven ; for the want of this we are taught we must be banished from that joy forever. What moment- ous weight is thus given to every death, not that a life has ceased on earth, not that a human body is given up to be turned back to dust, but that a spirit has gone to God to receive its reward for eternity; that an earthly probation has come to an end, and an unchangeable condition of joy or of woe has been begun. These are the sim- plest teachings of the word of God upon this subject. So we have the solemn warning given to each one of us, " Prepare to meet thy God." We need a preparation. Sinners as we are, we cannot risk a rejection of the spirit, when after death it must make its way to God. The proba- bility is too great that sin and holiness will not agree. We need assurance in some way, that even in our imperfection and our guilt, we can come before our God acceptably, and while sci- ence and philosophy cannot answer, while in our deepest unaided reasonings we cannot reach any satisfactory result, while darkness and doubt ob- scure the entire future, revelation speaks out, and immortal life is brought to light by Jesus Christ 50 MEMOIR OF JOHN C. LORD. in the Gospel. We are creatures of God. We have sinned againt him. We deserve eternal death. We are doomed to endless woe. But the Saviour has come for our relief. He has made atonement for us. He has borne our pun- ishment. For His sake we may be pardoned. We have but to believe on Him, accepting Him as our Saviour, and to prove that this belief is genuine by a consistent religious life, and then for His sake we are restored to God's favor and made sure of everlasting life. We are living amid religious privileges that we may have an opportunity to become the disciples of Christ that we may become the friends of God. This is the most momentous of all ques- tions for each one of us — have I such a belief in the Lord Jesus Christ that He has become my Saviour? It is to give the answer to this question that your spirit and mine, must return at once to God, \\hcn life is ended. What a change is thus made in a moment. Now the spirit, joined to the body, is here surrounded by the earthly and the mortal, perhaps ignoring the existence, or not perceiving the presence of its God ; now, in a moment, as disease has accom- ])lishcd its work, or as some accident brings life FUNERAL SERVICES. 5 I to a sudden end, now, in a moment, that spirit, your spirit, yourself, is standing before God, far removed from all the surroundings of earth and of time, to learn your final and eternal destina- tion. There is no more uncertainty, no more probation, no delay. You must be welcomed as one of His own dear children, because you are joined by faith to His Son, or must be sent away forever, never more to share in His mercy or to partake of His love. Is not death important then ? Should we not be ready to meet it at any unexpected moment? Have you, who meet here in presence of the dead, such a hope in Christ as will prove an anchor of the soul in the trying hour? Have you such a hope, such an assurance as he had, who from his coffin, is en- forcing these solemn considerations upon you ? Do you believe in the Saviour, whose atoning- sacrifice it was his joy to make known for more than forty years? It seems fitting that he should be brought here, on his way to the grave, once more to utter, though with silent lips, the mes- sages of salvation. Will not some of you who refused to listen before, now give heed ; though being dead, he yet speaketh ? I have sought to say what I believe he would wish me to say in 52 MEMOIR OF JOHN C. LORD. this solemn audience. I believe, could he speak, he would si\y, " speak not of me in eulogy, but proclaim once more salvation by grace through the Lord Jesus Christ — speak of impending death, of the return of the spirit to God and of the way to secure the friendship and everlasting favor of God, through Jesus Christ. Let the echoes of these great truths, which I have sought to pro- claim with my living voice in all these years of my ministry, ring over my coffin, while from my mute lips the warning comes once more to my congregation — to my old friends and neighbors — ■ to every one who can hear it, ' Prepare to meet thy God.' " Yet, I cannot close without a word of another kind. Dr. Lord's long and faithful service as a preacher of righteousness must be acknowledged by his brethren. I have been working by his side for nearly thirty years, and it would be an un- pardonable omission if I did not bear testimony to his faithfulness to all the fundamental doc- trines of the gospel, and his fearlessness and boldness in proclaiming whatever his own mind receiv^ed as the truth on any religious or political question, however unpopular for the time, that truth might be. Whichever side he might take, FUNERAL SERVICES. 53 on any important topic of Church or State, he was always true to his own convictions, and advocated his cause under the influence of the purest and noblest principles, both of piety and patriotism. Of his success in building up and developing this large and important Church, his pastor will doubtless speak at large ; but it is a grand work of a life-time if nothing else had been accomplished. Of his identification with Buffalo, and his love for its interests, mention has already been made in the action of the city government, and in the various resolutions occa- sioned by his death. Though for some time withdrawn from active life, yet it may be ques- tioned whether such a breach could be made by the death of any other man in this community. We mourn for him as for a father beloved ; we cherish his memory ; we will seek to profit by his example. There was something in his life that seems to make especially appropriate to himself one of his own admirable verses on the Apostle Paul : " O miracle of sovereign grace, the persecuting Saul Hath run by faith the Christian race, and is 'such a one as Paul 5 54 MEMOIR OF JOHN C. LORD. The aged,' prisoner of the Lord, whose time is near at hand, And who looks for his departure as the storm-tossed look for land ; For there's ' a house not made with hands ' that nev-er shall decay, The Lord of Hosts, the righteous Judge, shall give me in that day." ADDRESS BY REV. D. R. FRAZER. When God sent the fiery chariot to bear EHjah from his work to his rest, so profound was Elisha's sense of the great loss he had sustained in the removal of his leader, teacher and friend, that, in- stead of attempting an analysis of his character, or rehearsing the exploits of the departed prophet, he cried out in deepest anguish of spirit, " My Father, my Father, the chariot of Israel and the horsemen thereof!" Realizing the fact that greater than all spoken grief is that which is unspoken and unspeakable ; realizing the fact that words cannot adequately portray the tenderest emotions of the heart, Elisha regarded and accepted silence as the most befitting expression of his deep grief. Lamenting, as we do to-day, the loss of a be- loved father in Christ, one whose many years, whose personal traits, whose long term and faith- FUNERAL SERVICES. 55 ful service in the Christian ministry entitle him to this distinction ; coming, as we do to-day, to pay our last sad tributes of respect and affection to him before we bear him hence to his rest, we may well imitate the example of the prophet, and let our words be few, since our words, be they never so fitly chosen, must fail to embody our sense of the deep loss which we have sustained. Although death is a very common event in our world, yet in no sense, is it a common event which calls us together to-day. A great light, which has shone for over a half a century in this community, and in whose radiance we all have rejoiced, has suddenly been extinguished. No, not extinguished, for we read that "they that turn many to righteousness shall shine as the stars forever and ever." Not extinguished, but only removed to shine yonder with brighter beam and more glorious ray, yet so removed that hereafter the radiance shall burst upon us, only from the historic past. Although grief is the ordinary attendant of death, it is in no sense, an ordinary grief which burdens our heart to-day. The soldier, who in the vigor of his early manhood enlisted for Christ and threw away the scabbard, has now laid down 56 MEMOIR OF JOHN C. LORD. the sword. The man of strong mind, of deep affection, of imperial will, of invincible determi- nation, of earnest piety, has now fallen on sleep. The bereavement has cast its sable pall, not only over this Church, which bewails the loss of its founder and first pastor, but over all these Churches, aye, over every heart and home in this community, for the universal conviction is, that " a prince and a great man has fallen to-day in Israel." Although we may not accept as an absolute statement of fact the maxim that " circumstances make the man," yet it is true, within given limits, that circumstances do exert a powerful influence in the formation of our characters and in the determination of our life-record. By force of circumstances a part of the min- istry of our departed father was largely contro- versial. He served in the time of great ecclesias- tical excitement ; in the days of fierce theological contentions, and he will live in history as one of the central features of those troubled times. He heartily loved discussion, and his logical mind would rush into argument with all the zest that the well-trained war-horse rushes into the battle, and whatever may be our views in relation to FUNERAL SERVICES. 57 the sentiments which he adv^anced, no one can question the fact, that among all the contestants there was none more decided in opinion, none more loyal to conviction of right and truth and duty than was he. But these are not the things by which we, his friends, his neighbors, his brethren, remember him. When we want his record, we look at the permanent work which he wrought for Christ. When we want to see his memorial, we lift our eyes and look about us. This Church of Christ gathered by his energy, this colossal edifice built by his perseverance, are more abiding testimo- nials to his worth and his work, than would be the most gorgeous, symmetrical and costly mau- soleum which affection could rear to his memory. Others may recall the logician, the theologian, the disputant. We remember only the man of childlike simplicity, of marked unselfishness, of deepest piety. We retain, in grateful recollec- tion, not simply those sterner elements of char- acter which go to make up the strong man, but also that singular gentleness and winning tender- ness which softened and sanctified these. And how beautifully these sweeter traits were mani- fested in the last days. I have sometimes 58 MEMOIR OF JOHN C. LORD. thought that the problem of life most difficult of solution is the problem, " how may we grow old gracefully?" It is indeed a hard thing, for one who has mingled among the activities of life, to find, by reason of advancing age and the many infirmities which age brings, that he is no longer able to keep step with the world's prog- ress, but, despite his disinclination, is compelled to fall back among the stragglers. It must be a still harder thing for a man, who, by his own zeal and energy, has made for himself an honored place and name, to be compelled to step aside and allow another to occupy his position. The average man would be jealous ; the old man would be out of s}'mpathy with the plans and projects of the younger. But what a beautiful solution to this problem did our dear father give. I may not anticipate what my brother Wood will doubtless tell you in his memorial discourse on next Sunday evening respecting the character of his personal relations to the departed, further than to state that which our brother's modesty may hinder him from presenting. Instead of that carping, scorching criticism which some old pastors feel in conscience bound to inflict upon their successors, this dear man of God has told FUNERAL SERVICES. 59 me repeatedly that he considered himself the greatest admirer of this young brother's ability, and that he devoutly thanked God for the success which had attended his ministrations, and I hold that there is nothing within the reach of human possibilities that could more clearly manifest the real nobility of the man. If you will pardon a personal reference, I can say that the same thoughtfulness and tenderness were also extended in a marked manner to me. Dr. Lord was a positive man in every respect — a negative in none. If he liked you, you knew it, and I have the satisfaction of knowing, that for some reason or other, he liked me, and doubtless to that fact my selection for the present service may be ascribed. You, brethren of the Central Church, will remember how touchingly and earnestly he urged upon you, during the prog- ress of the extra service of last winter, the duty of caring for your pastor; how solemnly he en- joined you not to allow him to overtax himself, and you may remember the illustration he ad- duced to enforce his appeal when he said, " that dear brother of the First Church must die before spring, and that because of overwork." Thank God the dear old father was wrong in his conclu- 6o MEMOIR OF JOHN C. LORD. sion, because wrongly informed as to the facts of the case, yet this same tender solicitude has been the characteristic feature of his intercourse with me. In almost the last conversation I had with him, he pressed upon me the importance and necessity of caring for my health, and then said, " My dear brother, I have passed the compli- mentary age. I never do anything for compli- ment, and I never want any compliment paid me. Never ask me to preach for you as a compliment, but when and whenever you have a real need, whenever I can really serve you, call upon me without the slightest hesitation." This was the man as I knew him, and is it any marvel as I stand beside his lifeless form with these tender recollections running through my mind, that for one I feel, as doubtless we all feel, like crying aloud with the Prophet, " My Father, my Father ! " Very appropriately we have brought the old pilgrim back once more to the place of his toils, his trials and his triumphs, but only to bear him hence to his last long resting place. Never again shall we see that patriarchal form in this sacred desk ; never again will he dispense to you the emblems of the broken body and the shed blood ; FUNERAL SERVICES. 6l never again will that well known voice awake the slumbering echoes of this house of God. He has done his w^ork, and has done it well. For nearly a half century he has occupied a public position, yet he comes down to the grave without an enemy, without a stain upon his character or a spot upon his reputation. Life's labors over, he rests in Christ, and we shall see him again only when this mortal shall have put on immortality. Although we may not speak his worth or esti- mate our loss, yet we may imitate his example, and we will enshrine among our dearest earthly memories the name of John C. Lord. 62 MEMOIR OF JOHN C. LORD. MEMORIAL SERMON. BY REV. CHAS. WOOD. ■ " Know ye not that there is a prince and a great man fallen this day in Israel?" — II Samuel, 3: 38. A PRINCE, though the blood of kings or nobles flowed not in his veins; though no sovereign's hand had placed the star or the ribbon upon his breast. A prince among men, by God's gifts of nature and of grace. No fitting eulogy can be spoken of him whom we this hour seek to honor; already it has found utterance in the gathering of this great assemblage, in the gar- lands of respect cast upon his grave by the members of the Common Council and of the Press, in his own works which do follow him while he now rests from his labors, in the very walls and stones of this edifice; most of all, in the Christian lives of multitudes who were led by him in the way of truth, and in the tears of those who in nearly every town and hamlet of our State, as well as in our own city, hear with unfeigned sorrow of his departure. MEMORIAL SERMON. 63 The eloquent biographer of one of the most brilHant of English historians and essayists, is content to find all needed hereditary honors for his hero in " a genealogy which derives from a Scotch manse." We too are content to trace back the stream of John Chase Lord's life to a source equally honorable. He was born in a New England parsonage, and to the day of his death the influences of that home were marked in his habits of thought and of speech. The years of his sojourn upon this earth were almost commensurate with the history of this city. It was in 1801 that the foundations of Buffalo were laid — it was on the ninth of August, 1 805, that he began the struggle of life. In early boy- hood he attended a common school. Afterward he received instruction at one of the academies of New Hampshire, his native State. Neither in these schools, nor at Hamilton College, which he entered at the age of seventeen, did he give prom- ise of a career so full of usefulness as that which has now closed. Few could have foretold, unless gifted with the keenest powers of reading char- acter, that such a lad would develop into such a man. " I was wild and reckless," he says, and though he had great reverence for all that was 64 MEMOIR OF JOHN C. LORD. true and good, his better purposes were often overborne by the strong tides which swept through his impetuous heart. Like Paul, in the days when he sat at the feet of GamaHel, he saw no beauty in that Master whom he has since so faithfully served. In his journal, begun, as he tells us, "for the purpose of recording and keeping in remembrance the wonderful mercies of Almighty God," he writes, that in his school and college life, he was a source of constant grief to his Christian parents, because of his repeated refusals to give heed to Divine truth. Leaving college before the end of the regular course, he spent some months in Can- ada as the editor of a paper. Thence he came to Buffalo. He reached the village in 1825, with eighteen pence in his pocket, with no prospect of receiving aid from influential friends, of whom at that time he had not one of the many hundreds, who in later days esteemed it an honor to call him by that name. For the first year, while pursuing the study of the law, his chosen profession, " I was barely able," he sa}'s, " to procure sustenance." But he had formed resolutions of frugality and industry at the close of his college life, to which he now MEMORIAL SERMON. 65 faithfully clung, and in which he found his best friends. He was determined to succeed, and he did. He pushed his way rapidly. He began to make money. Instead of spending it in extrava- gance, he invested it judiciously. " In 1828," he says, " I married my beloved wife. On every side my prosperity was enlarged," and then he analyzes the motives which at this time ruled his life. God was not in all his thoughts. In the Church itself the world was ever present. He heard the truth, but he heeded it not. There is nothing more in- teresting in his journal than the account he gives of his first religious impressions. " About this time," he writes, " my wife began to be very thoughtful upon religious subjects. I noticed the change, but had not so far lost my respect for religion as to dissuade her from cher- ishing such thoughts ;" but he says, " there was no more worldly-minded young man in the village of Buffalo than myself." He was expecting soon to be appointed District Attorney for Erie county, and he had, as he thought, no time to pay atten- tion to the voice with which God was even then speaking to him. Suddcnjy there came from Rochester the news that a number of leading lawyers of the place, some of whom had been 66 MEMOIR OF JOHN C. LORD. very skeptical, had become Christians. This startled him, drew his attention for a time away from worldly plans; a wide-spread religious inter- est began to manifest itself in the church he attended. He listened now, when he went to the sanctuary, to the preaching of the truth. There soon came to him an overwhelming sense of sin. " I was weighed down by it," he says, " I began to pray. Some Christians too, took courage to speak to me, and to pray with me." But the more earnestly he sought Christ, the more earnest was the Evil One in his efforts not to let such a man escape from his power, to become a dreaded enemy. " My mind was filled," he says, " with terrible blasphemies ; at times I was prostrated to the floor by the most terrible thoughts." But lie was never easily discouraged when he knew he was in the right way. He kept on seeking. He kept on praying, and one day as he pra}-ed, the feelings of his heart were changed. He began to praise God for His justice and truth — a work which he never gave over while his mind was able to do the bidding of his will. There he belie\-cd the purpose of his life was altered. Henceforth he was to live for Christ. MEMORIAL SERMON. 6/ His was not a nature, as we all know, to cher- ish such a purpose in secret only. Early in the spring of 1830, when the trees were beginning to put forth the buds and leaves of a new life, he stood with his wife before the pulpit of the First Presbyterian Church of Buffalo, and there, together, they consecrated themselves to the service of the Master. Remembering his wholeheartedness, we are not surprised to find that the next page of his journal gives his reasons for entering the ministry of the Gospel of Christ. In one of them he writes that his heart had been greatly touched by the necessities of the Far West, and having property of his own suffi- cient to support him, so that he need be no bur- den to any of the missionary societies of the Church, it was his hope, if God should seem so to direct, to labor at least for a number of years in the valley of the Mississippi. Though by the providence of God he was shut out from the ful- fillment of this wish, he alludes to it very often, and for many years he gave no small portion of his salary for the support of a missionary upon the frontier. At the close of his three years' course of theological study in Auburn Seminary he hopes that "he has grown in the kno\\iedge of 68 MEMOIR OF JOHN C. LORD, God and in acquaintance with the doctrines of revealed rehgion," F'rom the seminary he went to supply a Church at Fayetteville, in this State, intending to remain there for a few months before going to the West ; and becoming greatly inter- ested in the people of that charge, he prays that he may not be kept, by lov^e for them, from the work in the great valley, if such be God's will. From this time his journal opens to us a side of his character of which many perhaps have been almost totally ignorant. It was a great surprise to the clergy, and to the people of Scotland, when, upon the publication of the memoirs of Norman McLeod, it was found that he who had been so famous for his eloquence, his humor, and his exuberance of animal spirit, was also a man who had lived in as close communion to God as any who, because of great sanctimoniousness of manner, have been given a place in the unwritten Protestant calendar of saints. Some such feeling of surprise might be aroused in the hearts of those who remember our departed friend as the theologian, the controversialist, whose arguments often tore in shreds the logic of his opponents, who was always ready, like David, to meet either a lion, or a bear, or a giant, in single combat, MEMORIAL SERMON. 69 when upon the written page they see the record of a spiritual Hfe which was equally deep and strong. Like David, he knew what it was to talk with God in the night watches. Many of his prayers breathe the spirit of that wondrous fifty- first Psalm. Often he cries "Create in me a clean heart, oh God." The first entry he makes in his journal, after reaching Fayetteville, is one filled with desire for the salvation of his people; and, with his close analysis of motives, he adds the hope that there may be no selfishness in this, and asks the help of God that he may desire the prosperity of every Church in Zion even as his own. Again and again, as he closes the narration of the Sabbath work, and there is but little concerning any other day, he mourns his lack of peace and faith, and prays for greater holiness and humility. He speaks of a high temper as the source of his besetting sin. He fears that he is often too irritable, and he reminds himself of Paul's admonition to Tim- othy, " The servant of the Lord must not strive, but be gentle unto all men, apt to teach, patient, in meekness instructing those that oppose them- selves." When there came to the village some who taught doctrines which he believed were 6 70 MEMOIR OF JOHN C. LORD. not grounded upon the word of God, he saw that they were sincere and hesitated to speak against them, " lest haply I should be found," he says, " fighting against God." Not far from Fayetteville, at a place called Pompey Hill, he was invited to preach during a season of much religious interest, and the inquiry meetings which Avere held during the day, and in the evening, were filled with those who were anxious to hear what they must do to be saved. In these meetings there came to him a consciousness of God's pres- ence such as he had not known before. " I felt," he writes, " like walking softly before God." From Fayetteville he was called to Geneseo, and there, too, God placed His seal to his minis- try. In his short pastorate, many who had been utterly indifferent to the truth were brought to Christ. Nearly all the heads of families who were in the habit of attending his church, came into the fold. Some who are now officers of Presbyterian Churches in this city, were then led to acceptance of the Saviour. By their con- sistent lives, they have borne witness, that his preaching was not in mere words of man's wis- dom. Durin