BX 
 725 
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 PBESENTED TO THE LIBRABY 
 
 PRINCETON THEOLOGICAL SEMINJIRY 
 
 BY 
 
 Professor }ienpy Van Dyke, D.D., Lili.D. 
 
 BX 7260 .L4 A3 1887 
 
 i 
 
 Rev. Louis P. Ledoux, D.D 
 
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4 
 
Rev. Louis P. Ledoux, D. D. 
 
To 7ny dear little grandson, 
 
 Louis V. Ledoux: 
 
 It is now over two years since the grandfather, after whom 
 you are named, and who loved you so, was called from 
 among the hills of Cornwall unto the hills of God. 
 
 You were a little boy of five then, and although you 
 remember his face, and something of his affection for you, 
 in future years, if God spares your life, even this memory 
 must fade. It has occurred to me to bind together for you 
 these few letters and papers which will then serve to answer 
 the question — who was my grandfather? 
 
 Your lovintj grandmother, 
 
 Katharine R. Ledoux. 
 
 New York, December 31, 1887. 
 
 3 
 
LOUIS P. LEDOUX 
 
 was born near Opelousas, Louisiana, June 8, 1822. 
 
 His parents were Eugene and Celesie Pietre Ledoux. 
 His father and grandfather were successful planters in the 
 parish of St. Landry, with large sugar and cotton estates 
 among the fertile prairies of the Vermilion River. The latter 
 came from France, Department of Basses Pyrenees, early 
 in the last century. Accompanied by two brothers he first 
 settled in Canada, where they remained, but here moved 
 to the more congenial soil and climate of Louisiana. 
 
 Louis Ledoux was one of the younger children, and 
 pre-eminently a "mother's boy." He was rarely away from 
 home, his early education being received from private tutors 
 in company with his brothers and sisters. His boyhood was 
 a happy one, with few wishes ungratified that wealth and 
 affection could fulfil. Horses, guns and servants were at 
 his command, and he had a large circle of young friends 
 from neighboring plantations. Under the influence of a 
 gentle mother he developed a sympathetic, religious nature, 
 faithful to the duties of the French Catholic Church, to 
 which all his relatives belonged. His elder brothers, leaving 
 school one after another, married and settled on plantations 
 of their own, but Louis' inclination was for a more studious 
 life. An uncle, on his mother's side, was eminent at the 
 bar of New Orleans; subsequently a judge. Influenced by 
 his advice, as well as by his own inclination, his parents 
 decided to give him a collegiate education, and fit him for the 
 legal profession. 
 
 5 
 
It was then the custom among- Southern families of 
 means to send their sons to Xorthern colleges, and so, 
 on the 30th of May. 1840, Louis Ledoux left his Southern 
 home to complete his preparator)^ studies at Lawrence 
 Academy, Groton. Massachusetts, then in the zenith of its 
 fame. 
 
 For a young man with his early training and surroundings 
 to be suddenly transplanted from the sunny prairies of 
 semi-tropical Louisiana, amid the rigors of New England 
 life and climate, must have been indeed a chancre. Looking 
 back upon this period of his life, he wrote in i860 : — 
 
 " The small, stony, side-hill farms ; the rock walls ; the poor stunted 
 com ; but above all, the customs of the people, impressed me as ver\' strange. 
 Sunday of all days was to me most sad and uninteresting. From their 
 manner of Sabbath observance, as well as their doctrines, as I then under- 
 stood or rather w/junderstood, them, I entirely dissented. Their Puritan 
 standards I rejected ah immo pectore. I was brought up in a community 
 whose members regarded Sunday as a fete — a day for visiting and amusements. 
 Imagine my horror at the return of each Sabbath day in Groton ! All 
 amusements were suspended, all social visits interdicted. No vehicles 
 tolerated on the streets, except to or from meeting ; the front blinds were 
 all closed. Even the dinner bell in my hotel was not nmg on Sunday, and 
 conversation was carried on in a suppressed tone. .\t nine, the church bells 
 began ringing. .\t ten, church commenced, followed immediately b\' Sunday 
 school ; then a cold lunch, and senice again at half-past two. I spent the 
 time in being homesick and writing letters. Once I went out in the fore- 
 noon for a walk, but the looks of surprise and pain that met me from the 
 windows of the good people, led me not to repeat the experiment, and I 
 determined at least to respect their prejudices." 
 
 He remained at I^wrence Academy until entering col- 
 lege, and it was there, under the influence of its respected 
 and much-loved principal. Rev. L. H. Barstow. as well as of 
 one of the teachers, that he took a step that changed radically 
 
 6 
 
the whole current of his life. After a period of most searching 
 self-examination, he united with the Protestant (Congrega- 
 tional) Church, and announced to his relatives that instead 
 of becoming a lawyer, he felt called to become a minister of 
 the Gospel. Nothing could have astonished or disappointed 
 them more. He could not be dissuaded, but firmly adhered 
 to his resolution. He felt that God had called him. His 
 brothers' disappointment ; his uncle's expostulations, and even 
 his gentle mother's tears failed to turn him, and he went on 
 with his concluding studies at Groton — his future life's work 
 clearly defined. He gave up a career which, with his 
 family's position and uncle's help, offered wealth and station 
 in his native State, to prepare for the more humble, and often 
 ill-paid toil of a Presbyterian minister. What the step cost 
 him, only his nearest and dearest can ever know. 
 
 His father died; then followed the death of his mother, 
 and with it the sudden cessation of financial aid from home. 
 Undeterred, he entered Amherst College in the fall of 1844, 
 supporting himself by teaching, and as tutor of French in 
 college. 
 
 Graduating in 1848, he entered the Union Theological 
 Seminary of New York city, whence he graduated in 185 i. 
 
 In the summer of 185 i he was married to Katharine C. 
 Reid, the youngest daughter of Edward Reid of New York, 
 by whom he had two sons, Albert R. and Augustus D., born 
 in 1852 and 1858 respectively. 
 
 After graduation, he at once commenced preaching, 
 supplying the pulpit of the Presbyterian Church at Dobbs' 
 Ferry. Although pleasantly situated here, his desire was to 
 do missionar)' work, and declining a call to the permanent 
 pastorate, he -went to Newport, Kentuck)-, to upbuild a little 
 
 7 
 
church but recently estabHshed. Placing this church on a 
 firm, self-supporting foundation, he accepted a call to Mon- 
 roe, Michigan, where for nearly three years he acted as 
 pastor of the First Presbyterian Church. There, on the 
 lake shore, his wife and son, born in Newport, were attacked 
 with chills and fever. Being advised that nothing but a 
 decided chancre of climate would eradicate this disease, he 
 accepted a call to the Third Presbyterian Church of Richmond. 
 \ a., where he remained until 1858. Then, called to the 
 pastorate of the church at Cornwall-on-the-Hudson, New 
 York, he accepted, and it was here that his best and hardest 
 life-work was done. Beside his pastoral work, at this period 
 of his life he was also busy with his pen. but usually in an 
 unobtrusive, anonymous way. publishing a number of ser- 
 mons, tracts, lectures and newspaper articles. A more elab- 
 orate treatise on "The Hypocrisy of Infidelity," in 1861. 
 gained for him the honorar)" degree of Doctor of Divinity 
 from the Indiana State University, whose Faculty saw and 
 appreciated this review. 
 
 In 1865. after a pastorate in Cornwall of eight )ears. 
 repeated attacks of a bronchial affection, with resulting loss 
 of voice, compelled him to resign his charge and again to 
 take up teaching, for which by education and experience he 
 was well fitted. 
 
 In this occupation, without interruption, he continued 
 until his last illness — a complication of heart-failure, with his 
 old bronchial affection. He founded and maintained a 
 successful collegiate school upon Cornwall Heights. 
 
 Durine his residence at Cornwall, the cruel wave of civil 
 war swept over our countr)'. and not even indirectly could 
 he hear from his relatives in Louisiana. When peace was 
 
 8 
 
restored, he journeyed South to see them. He found money ; 
 ser\'ants; lands had been swept away by the ebb and flow of 
 conflict. His coming^ had been unannounced. One moon- 
 light night he rapped at the door of his childhood's home. 
 A window opens above, and a brother's voice asks in French: 
 "Who is there?" Replying in the same familiar tongue, he 
 asks if a stranger ma)- have a night's lodging. The window 
 closes, a step descends the stair, the front door opens, and 
 before him stands the brother with outstretched arms and 
 says, "Come in, my brother, this is the old home." With 
 tears of joy and sorrow, childhood's days are gone over, the 
 old affection renewed, and the story of all the long years of 
 separation is told; then, with a great life's wish gratified, 
 Louis Ledoux returned to his work, from which on Septem- 
 ber 30th, 1885, the Great Schoolmaster released him. What 
 was the character and what the results of this work, let 
 others tell in the following pages. 
 
 His funeral services were held on October 3d in the 
 church at Cornwall, in which he had preached for so long, 
 amid a large congregation of his former parishioners and 
 pupils. The building was appropriately draped, and the 
 services were conducted by the present pastor. Rev. Mr. 
 Noble, assisted by Rev. Drs. Lyman Abbot, Snowdon and 
 J. W. Teal, the latter, perhaps. Dr. Ledoux's nearest friend in 
 the ministry during the later years of his life. He was 
 buried at Woodlawn Cemetery, near New Windsor, sur- 
 rounded by the hills he loved so well. 
 
 9 
 
Student. 
 
Amherst College, July 3d, 1S48. 
 " Mr. Louis P. Ledoux has just completed his four year's course of study 
 in this institution. For two years he was employed to teach French (his 
 vernacular) even to his own class.* We are glad to testify to his gentlemanly 
 and amiable deportment, his irreproachable character, both moral and 
 religious, as well as his talents and attainments." 
 
 Edw.ard Hitchcock, 
 
 President. 
 
 E. S. Snell, 
 
 Prof. Math, and Nat. Phil. 
 
 W. S. Tvler, 
 
 Prof, of Languages. 
 
 " .A college-life acquaintance of four years with Mr. Louis P. Ledoux, 
 enables us, his classmates, to bear testimony to his many high attainments. 
 ^\'e recall with pleasure his excellent scholarship, his courteous and refined 
 ni-inners. his unaffected geniality, and true goodness of heart." 
 
 ^V^L C. Dickinson, 
 W. S. Smhh, 
 S. F. Miller. 
 
 Li:rri:RS from classmates. 
 
 October 6th. 1885. 
 
 " Your letter telling me of the death of my dear classmate, Louis P. 
 Ledoux, I find on returning home, and I have spent this evening with him ! 
 I can bear testimony how worthy he was of the best love, as well as the 
 fondest regard of his dearest friends. 
 
 Especially during the last year of our college life, and the one year 
 we were together at the seminary at New York, was I drawn \ ery close to 
 
 *llis command of French was great, and his accent remarkahly pure. When in 
 I'aris he preached in some of the French churches, an<l his hearers expressed surprise on 
 learning he was n^t a native-born Frenchman. 
 
 12 
 
him. I assure you the death of no member of our college society, nor oi 
 our class, will be more deeply felt than his. While to those of us who 
 were admitted to his inner circle of friends, there comes a sense of personal 
 loss and deep affliction. As he was the noble spirit around which we were 
 privileged to group ourselves here, so, being the first to pass on, may we 
 not hope that he still shall be our leader, and that we may again be together 
 with him in the spirit world? ' And joyful shall our meeting be.' 
 
 He illustrated so beautifully by his life the Christ he professed and so 
 dearly loved, we all can but rejoice that he is in His more immediate 
 companionship now, and will enjoy Him forever." * * « * 
 
 ".•\s a college student, your father was a rare approach to the ideal 
 man. Southern birth and Northern training came to their best in him, 
 uniting the courtly grace of the one section, with the noblest sentiments 
 and aspirations of the other. With affinities and aptitudes all upward, he 
 was faithful and fearless in the rebuke of the low and unworthy. Yet, 
 withal, a sparkling playfulness and humor made him ever the most delight- 
 ful of companions. Thus his fellowship was always ennobling and attractive. 
 In class, literary, religious and social circles, he was a favorite represen- 
 tative man. 
 
 Few, if any, were the names that could be written abo\'e that of Louis 
 P. Ledoux in the sum total of character, influence and college success." 
 
 October 9th, 1885. 
 
 " My eye has just fallen upon the paragraph in this week's Observer, 
 announcing that my dear old classmate, Ledoux, has gone, and I shall see 
 him no more in this world — you cannot tell what a pang it brought to mv 
 heart. Though I have seen him so little in these past years, yet I love him 
 so much that I feel his loss deeply. It was something to know that he was 
 in the world, and that I might go to him, and that again we might meet at 
 old Amherst, but now that I shall see his face no more, it fills me with 
 sorrow. I cannot tell one who knew him so well how good a man he was, 
 but I can assure you that no man of our class claimed so much respect and 
 affection from his classmates as did he. 
 
 He was a dear, good man with a large heart, whose companionship I 
 shall never forget, and ere long I hope to follow on." * * » 
 
 13 
 
October nth, 1885. 
 
 " The Observer brings to us this week the announcement of your great 
 affliction. ********** 
 
 I count it one of the great blessings and joys of my Hfe that I was 
 favored with such a pleasant, goodly and profitable fellowship. That grand 
 and benign presence, that easy and courtly bearing, the richness, sweetness 
 and the delightful manliness of his companionship, the depth and consistency 
 of his Christian character, all conspired to make one proud, happy and 
 blessed in his friendship. O what a bright and glorious vision is that of 
 Louis Ledoux of our college days ! ' Lovely and pleasant' was he in his 
 life. But he has suddenly vanished from the earth in the midst of his use- 
 fulness, while many, with long-blighted lives, still wear on !" * * * 
 
Pastor. 
 
CORNWALL-ON-HUDSON, Nov. 23d, 1887. 
 
 " You ask me ' for a few honest words ' telling something of the work 
 of Dr. Ledoux as pastor and preacher. The letters which you recently 
 showed me could not say more of his success in Richmond and Monroe, 
 but I can speak of his work in Cornwall, and of that only from personal 
 knowledge. 
 
 His presence in the pulpit was so commanding, and his manner so 
 earnest, that in any gathering he would secure instant attention when he 
 rose to speak. His voice was flexible and well-modulated, and his gestures 
 natural and forceful. In the pulpit his prayers, especially, always struck me 
 as full of feeling. I have heard others say the same, and that he impressed 
 them as having, in praying, the same faith that his whole life exhibited in 
 action. His sermons always gave evidence of careful preparation, and 
 abounded in apt illustration and appropriate quotation. But they were 
 dignified and Godly. There was always a total absence of anything either 
 sensational or amusing. In theology, he was evidently a firm believer in 
 the standards of the Presbyterian Church, his New England training showing 
 itself in his dealing with doctrinal questions, as well as those social questions 
 ever recurring in the church — amusements, cards, dancing, intemperance, 
 Sabbath observance, etc., etc. During his pastorate the membership of our 
 church was more than trebled, and we raised, as the records show, over 
 $10,000 for religious purposes. 
 
 But, I venture to assert, that not so much as a pieacher, but as a pastor 
 and friend will the Doctor be remembered in Cornwall. He was always so 
 full of love and sympathy and charity and self-denial, and so faithful to his 
 flock, that his friendship was valued and his example respected by high and 
 low, rich and poor. 
 
 I have paused here and read over what I have thus far written. It 
 seems to me, who loved him so, so cold and inadequate that I know not what 
 to do. Only God can sum up his work among us, and He alone can 
 reward him for his patient, earnest, gentle life and labors. We could not 
 adequately reward him, but yonder his face shall shine with the glory of 
 those who turn many to righteousness, and he is now among the saints who' 
 through patient continuance in well-doing, have inherited the promises." 
 
 17 
 
RESOLUTIONS OF SESSION. 
 
 "At a meeting of the Session of the Presbyterian Church, Cornwall-on- 
 Hudson, held Thursday evening, September 30th, 1885, announcement was 
 made of the death of the Rev. Louis P. Ledoux, the first pastor of the 
 church, and the following action taken : 
 
 Whereas, It has pleased the (ireat Head of the Church to call from 
 his place among us our beloved friend, counsellor and former pastor, Rev. 
 Louis P. Ledoux, D. D. 
 
 Resolved, That while we mourn our loss, as that of a faithful and lov- 
 ing friend and fellow-worker for Christ, whose place may not be filled by 
 any other, we must return our thanks to God for the precious heritage that 
 is ours in his godly example, consecrated life, earnest and effectual 
 Christian work, and frequent and faithful counsels, for nearly thirty years; 
 tliat we rejoice in the manifestation of the power and worth of the faith he 
 cherished and taught, as shown in the life he has lived, and the respect and 
 esteem so fully accorded him by all ; that we extend to his family the assur- 
 ance of our warmest sympathy and our prayer that they may know the full- 
 ness of the consolation of the Holy Ohost, which he has so often ministered 
 to the people we represent ; many of whom are his children in the (iospel 
 of Christ ; and all of whom sorrow with them in the loss of him we have 
 dearly loved. 
 
 Resolved, That these resolutions be spread upon tiie minutes of 
 Session ; be i)ublished in the local and religious press ; and a copy be sent 
 to the family of .the deceased. .And that special memorial services be held 
 in the church. Sabbath evening, October 11, 1885." 
 
 18 
 
Teacher. 
 
THE COMPETENT TEACHER.* 
 
 "He cannot be fully described. He should love his work and his pupils. 
 His is a forcible character. In habits he is diligent and persevering ; in 
 judgment, well-balanced and prompt ; in discipline, free from tyranny ; 
 in mind, symmetrical, conscious of supremacy an'd yet susceptible of devel- 
 opment. He early analyzes the fidgetty set before him, and in his own 
 mind separates them into distinct classes. He does not go into ecstacy 
 over his success nor despair over his nlistakes. Each day he tries 
 to be a better teacher than he was the day previous, knowing that, ' teaching 
 we learn.' " 
 
 EXTRACTS FROM SCHOLARS' LETTERS. 
 
 " It was indeed a great shock to me when I reqeived the paper from 
 my father, containing the notice of the passing away of the well-beloved 
 master of so many years ago. You know how all of the 'old boys,' whose 
 foundations in life were laid by his hand and shaped by his example, can 
 sympathize with you in your great loss and affliction. This bereavement 
 takes me back over nineteen years, to the time when, as a home-sick boy 
 of less than thirteen years of age, the Doctor's kindly manner and gentle 
 presence served to re-assure the trembling new boy, and make him feel 
 that he had found, in the somewhat dreaded school-master, a new father 
 and guide in the paths of duty. 
 
 Many times have I felt indebted to the Doctor for the ideas gathered 
 from him, and it is my belief that to him and yourself belong the credit 
 of developing whatever force of character I possess, as I consider the age 
 at which I was under the Doctor's charge about as impressionable as any 
 during the whole span of life." 
 
 *Found in Dr. Ledoux's school-room desk. 
 
 21 
 
We all had a sincere love for the Doctor. As for myself, I shall 
 always cherish his memory, and think with gratitude of all his kindness ; 
 nor shall I forget his noble traits of Christian character and example of 
 Christian living of so much value to the boys under his care . 
 
 I have a personal interest, such as one might feel for a near relative, 
 in thinking of the Doctor. He was all that a father could have been to the 
 boys under his charge. 
 
 I shall not forget all his kind interest in me, nor can I forget that it 
 was through his influence that I took a step which otherwise might never 
 have been taken." 
 
 " Dr. Ledoux was always more to me than a teacher — he seemed more 
 like a father, and I never can forget his kind counsels and watchful care 
 over me during the three years I spent with him on Cornwall Heights. 
 Those years will never be forgotten, and I rejoice to say that the advice 
 and counsel I received during them, made that period a turning point in 
 my Hfe. 
 
 I could never say enough of all that has come to me while I was under 
 Doctor's care, and hope only that the future may prove me worthy of it all. 
 
 Doctor, it seemed, was too good a man to be taken away. We, all 
 of us, yes, the whole world itself, needed him, for he was a shining example 
 of a whole-souled, true Christian gentleman. My love for him goes on in- 
 creasing daily, for I feel that, though I have not lived up, as I should have 
 done, to the excellent precepts he taught me, still I am a better man for 
 having been under his pious care and guidance. I realize how poorly I 
 express myself." 
 
 " If it is of any comfort to you, I know that there are many friends 
 like myself, who will always remember the Doctor as a father, and who will 
 guard his memory as that of one who taught them of a higher life. I shall 
 never forget that it was mainly due to the 'Doctor's' influence that I first 
 thought to connect myself with the church." 
 
 22 
 
LE'ITERS FROM ASSISTANT TEACHERS. 
 
 " I went first to Cornwall, just escaped from boyhood and colleges, in 
 the Fall of 1869. 1 was under-teacher in the school on 'The Heights.' 
 
 Dr. Ledoux's tall, erect and manly figure is vivid in my mind now, 
 and no man ever had a kindlier face. He Icved animals. He loved trees. 
 He loved boys, and it was the great comfort of his life that his work might 
 still go on among the si)lendid fellows that came to him, after he was 
 obliged to leave the ministry. His spirit drank in both strength and repose 
 from the striking and beautiful scenery around him. 
 
 I remember vividly now after the lapse of more than eighteen years, 
 his relations with the boys ; how kind and genial, how ready in sympathy, 
 how thorough and exact in his instructions ; how earnest for their moral 
 and religious welfare. He was always devising healthful means of recrea- 
 tion. The boat-rides, the bee-hunts, the rabbit-trapping, the excursions 
 into the mountains, the candy-pulls, were some of the means continually 
 employed by him to keep the recreation hours of the boys joyously and 
 healthfully employed. 
 
 His heart followed them after they had left his home and his instruction. 
 It was a ceaseless joy to him that many became active and leading Christian 
 young men. To this very end were his energies directed, to make of the 
 young men around him devout and strong men. The tenderness in family 
 worship, the love in the home with which the boys were surrounded by both 
 the doctor and his wife, have made strong the heart of many in years 
 afterwards. 
 
 His teaching was delicate, discriminating, painstaking, inspiring. 
 Rut that was characteristic of all his work ; it bore the mark of his con- 
 science and his culture. 
 
 The distinctive mark of the Great Teacher was on his heart. That mark 
 was love. That was what made him a teacher sought for and chosen from 
 many for the care of boys. 
 
 Many men can preach, but few can teach. Love taught him a 
 thousand virtues. It guided his mind in subtle and sympathetic contact 
 with the timid but inquiring youth. The heart guided his course in the 
 most delicate and difficult undertaking in the world— the training of youth ; 
 and that was how it happened that he made no mistakes. I liken it to 
 
 23 
 
an inspiration of God, by which his whole being, in that noble office of 
 teacher, was quickened, informed, and guided in unerring lines in his great 
 work. He used sometimes to regret that his ministr\' was cut short, but I 
 think that long before God called him, he understood that the humbler 
 sen ice done for the Master was not less grand or honored of Him, than the 
 more conspicuous one of preaching. 
 
 To the young he made the world look more beautiful. He added to 
 their gifts out of his own courage and confidence and faith. They will 
 walk hard paths with a more springing step, and meet trouble and misfort- 
 une with braver hearts ; and all for him. 
 
 I cannot refrain from adding — and many will give kindred testimony — 
 that much of the inspiration which has supported me in arduous and pro- 
 longed labor in the same calling, has had its source in the influence of his 
 beloved life." 
 
 * * * * "I wonder whether you really understand how much I appre- 
 ciate the good I received at the hands of Dr. Ledoux the year I was with 
 you. I ofttimes look upon it, not as the year in which I taught, but as the 
 one in which I finished my student life in a most peculiar way. I frankly 
 recognize the many ways I am indebted, and I want to pay the humble 
 tribute of saying that I am to-day a better Christian -far — for the year and 
 its work, from the peculiar way in which he influenced me. I have a more 
 elevated and correct view of the ideas which should control men in their 
 ever)- day life from the example he set each day in the earnestness and 
 sincerity with which he threw himself into the school. One thing was to 
 me marked. I have often mentioned it to mother, saying, 'I do not 
 believe the Doctor or .Mrs. Ledoux could take more interest in the welfare 
 of these boys if they were their own children.' " 
 
 * * * * "It was with the deepest regret that I found it impossible to 
 be among those who, on Saturday, paid the last sad tribute of respect to all 
 that was mortal of Dr. Ledoux. This sorrow I felt all the more keenly 
 from the fact that through my association with him as his assistant teacher 
 for two years, I had come to know him and to love him for the many noble 
 qualities which adorned his life. His quickness to supply the temporal as 
 
 24 
 
well as spiritual wants of those who stood in need of assistance, his Christian 
 patience and forbearance, his thoughtfulness for others, made him the best 
 of neighbors and friends. 
 
 Of the dear Doctor it may be truly said that he rests from his labors 
 and his works do follow him. Those whom, as pastor, he watched and 
 tended, rise up and call him blessed ; and all those young lives which, with 
 infinite pains and loving tenderness he did so much to fashion, will daily 
 honor his memory." * * * * 
 
 * * * * (I J i^now that it must have been a great trial to him to leave 
 the ministry, but God had other work for him to do. It would be im- 
 possible to measure the influence that he will still continue to exert through 
 the lives of those whose minds and character his hand has done so much to 
 form. The deeds of a good man do indeed live after him. I, myself, feel 
 that I owe him a debt of gratitude for two of the happiest and most profit- 
 able years of my life. 
 
 When he left you I have wondered if you did not say to him as I have 
 heard you say so often, 'Au revoir.'* You might have said it as truly then 
 as ever." 
 
 And thus, briefly, the story of an earnest Hfe is told by 
 others. But none of them could lift the veil from that inner 
 home-life — too sacred for tongue or pen. The tenderness ; 
 the faith ; the gentle patience ; the self-forgetfulness ; the 
 inspiring courage ; the unselfish, generous love that never 
 faltered or wavered or diminished ! 
 
 Standing yet on this side of the river, there is one, at 
 least, who thanks God for this life, and who looks across 
 with increasing yearning for the day of blessed reunion. 
 
 K. R. L. 
 
 *As a matter of fact, the day before his death, when "aphasia," a symptom of the 
 disease, had appeared, after struggling for a long time to say somethmg to his younger 
 son, he motioned for paper and pencil and wrote slowly, with trembling hands, these 
 familiar, but then so significant words, "Au revoir." 
 
 25 
 
Memorial Sermon 
 
 BY 
 
 REV. GEORGE P. NOBLE. 
 
A SERVANT OF JESUS CHRIST. 
 
 A sermon in memory of the Rev. L. P. Ledoux, D. D., preached Sunday, Oct. 4th, 1885, 
 
 by Rev. Geo. P. Noble. 
 
 James i. ; i. — A servant of God, and of /he Lord Jesus Christ. 
 
 Pre-eminent amoncr the characteristics of the g-ood and 
 Godly man, in memory of whom we meet to-night, was that 
 which is indicated in the text. His story was told you, 
 briefly, at the funeral. It has been repeated at greater 
 length in our village paper. It is right that I, his pastor, 
 should now tell it to you again, not as something new, but 
 as something that is both good and pleasant to hear, and 
 that should come to us full of instruction and helpfulness, 
 for it shows us how one who is "a servant of Jesus Christ" 
 may live. 
 
 He was born at Opelousas, La., June 8th, 1822, and 
 there spent his early years. The fair sky and genial climate 
 of his Southern home were not more radiant or protecting 
 than the parental love and the brotherly and sisterly affec- 
 tion that surrounded him. He was the youngest son in a 
 wealthy and loving family. All that anyone could wish was 
 his. In him centered much of the pride and hope of his 
 parents' hearts. They meant him for the " law," and, no 
 doubt, saw bright visions of social and political preferment 
 for him, in which they took great delight. What was there 
 that might not come to one so born and cared for ? 
 
 29 
 
In his seventeenth or eighteenth year he came North to 
 complete his schooHng, and entered the Lawrence Academy 
 at Groton, Mass. There he was met by the Holy Spirit of 
 God, and led to see Jesus, not only as his Saviour, but as 
 the Saviour of the world. So impressed was he with the 
 revelation of the love of Christ that he then received, that 
 he dedicated himself to the Gospel ministry, and at once 
 entered upon the service from which he never swerved, and 
 in which he never faltered for more than forty years. I do 
 not go too far when I say that it both cost him all he had 
 and made him all he was. That he might carry out his new 
 purpose, it became thenceforward necessary that he should 
 support himself through college and the seminary. He 
 assumed the burden and accomplished his task with the 
 same brave cheerfulness that we have seen and known in 
 other things. I know whereof I speak when I say the 
 burden was not light or the work easy. His ministry began 
 at Dobb's Ferry, in this State, where he won the hearts of 
 the people, and might have stayed for many years had he so 
 chosen. But his heart was full of fire ; full of grand enthusiasm 
 to preach to those in greater need and with fewer advantages. 
 He wanted frontier mission work. So he was sent to a little 
 struggling church in Newport, Ky., then near the border. 
 He found them worshipping in an upper room. In a few 
 years he had them housed, and lifted to a place of strength 
 and power. Then he was ready to go on. This time he 
 went to Monroe, Mich. Here his ministry was brief. His 
 wife and baby sickened under the malarial influences of the 
 region, and for months were at death's door. Though the 
 church offered to send them away for a whole year's rest, if 
 that would keep him with them, it seemed to be a question 
 
 30 
 
between them antl the church. He was the servant of God ; 
 he beheved God had sent him there. And so he hesitated. 
 While he yet debated what was his duty, his orders came. 
 The Third Presbyterian Church in Richmond, Va., who had 
 never seen his face or heard his voice, and only knew him 
 by report of friends who dwelt among them, called 
 him to their pastorate. He could not question that 
 this was the voice of God ; nor could his Western people, 
 though they parted from him most reluctantly. Some of 
 the friendships founded in the Western field have continued 
 to his death. Part of the cordial welcome that I met from 
 him when I came here, he did not hesitate to say, was due to 
 the fact that my uncle was one of the Session of that church, 
 for whom he had a life-long love. The world is small, and 
 our lives are interlaced with others far more and oftener 
 than we dream. 
 
 He went to Virginia at a very trying time, and to a hard 
 and painful experience. It was at the beginning of one of 
 the struggles, in the Presbyterian Church, that had slavery 
 for their causes. Most of you can remember nothing of it ; 
 perhaps hardly knew of it at the time, for it was confined 
 mainly to that one Synod. But, boy as I was, it made a 
 deep impression upon me, because my father and his nearest 
 friends were members of the Synod and participants in the 
 struggle. It resulted in a schism in the church. We, in 
 Washington, were able to hold our Presbytery right. 
 But. in Richmond, Dr. Ledoux stood almost alone. With 
 him the choice was to break up his new-made home ; to 
 part from the people who had shown such a signal confidence 
 in him, and to come North ; or else, to remain among those 
 to whose views of right and wrong he had been early 
 
 31 
 
trained, but with which he could no loncrer aeree. It was 
 the voice of conscience, to him ever as the voice of God. 
 His choice was made. He came North, " not knowing- 
 whither," and in His good providence, God sent him here. 
 
 He was pastor of this church seven years and a half. 
 He found it with less than forty members. He left it with 
 over one hundred. He found it strug-orlinor for life. 
 He left it with its strength established and its success assured. 
 In leaving it, he acted from necessity and not from choice, 
 save as it was his choice always to do his Master's will. His 
 voice failed him. He gave it rest, but renewed effort showed 
 that it could not be depended on. So, in the Fall of 1865, 
 he resigned his pastorate and, most reluctantly, laid down 
 his work. Laid it down, however, only to take it up again 
 in another form. 
 
 Of his place and work as a teacher, another is to speak 
 to you to-night. I shall anticipate what may be said only 
 this far. Dr. Ledoux's purpose, in all his ministr)-, was to 
 lead souls to Jesus Christ, and to train them to efficiency in 
 the Master's work. When he changed from the church to 
 the school-room, there was no change in the aim and pur- 
 pose of his life. He was still " the servant of God and of 
 the Lord Jesus Christ." The ideal that he always held up 
 before the boys committed to his charge, was that of manly 
 Christianity. His hope, his prayer, his effort in their behalf, 
 was that they might see in the Son of God the Saviour of 
 their souls and the pattern for their lives. And what he 
 taught, he li\ ed. He believed God's word with the implicit 
 conlidence that a child puts in its father's statements. What 
 the Bible said was true. From it there was no appeal. So 
 much was settled in his creed, beyond all doubt. Quoting 
 
 32 
 
to me the saying of a noted theologian, now deceased, 
 " that if his conscience and the Bible led him in different 
 ways, he should follow conscience," he said, "To me, such 
 sayings are absurd and wicked, both because of the doubt 
 implied. A quickened conscience, guided by prayer and 
 filled with the Holy Spirit, cannot lead one contrary to the 
 word of God." And so, with the love of a son in his father's 
 house, and the deference of a servant to a master, trusted 
 and revered, he did his work and lived his life. 
 
 The words of such a man had mighty power. Pupils, 
 neighbors, friends, all loved to hear him speak ; all listened 
 eagerly for what he had to say. Many have been the words 
 that have come to wife and sons in these last days, ascribing 
 " the conversion," " the love of Christ," in some cases " all 
 that is good," in the writers, to the influence and teaching 
 of this good man. One says that he had been in the mazes 
 of doubt and unbelief, but the remembrance of what religion 
 had been in, and made of. Dr. Ledoux, had brought him 
 through to an established and unshaken faith. These are 
 very precious words, and full of comfort to the afflicted ones. 
 And we who knew him, know that they were well-deserved. 
 
 Dr. Teal told us of the loving welcome that he met when 
 he began his ministry in this church, of the promise of sym- 
 pathy and help Dr. Ledoux made him, and how fully that 
 promise was redeemed. Let me add my testimony to that 
 then given, for I might use almost the self-same words. 
 There is a tradition of men that the very worst of all possible 
 parishioners is an ex-pastor of the church. It is not making 
 an invidious distinction, or casting a slight on anyone else, 
 to say that no pastor ever had a more sympathetic, loving and 
 considerate parishioner than each of his successors found in 
 
 33 
 
Dr. Ledoux. He was always ready to be counted first for 
 self-denying ser\-ice, and last in ever) thing else. His care, 
 lest he should ever seem to come between pastor and people, 
 was constant; and as gfreat at the last as at the first. No 
 church ever had a wiser, warmer friend than he has been to 
 this. While yet the fullness of his strength remained, he 
 was always in his place at public worship ; and no one else 
 was absent whose presence his thoughtfulness and help could 
 secure. Only a few days ago I was told, by one of the parties 
 concerned, of how, week after week for a long time, he called 
 for and brought to the young people's meeting, four young 
 girls who, othervvise, would have been without escort or 
 conveyance. And so through all his life. There was no 
 good thing that could not safely count upon his sympathy 
 and cordial aid. No place where he was needed where he 
 was not found, when health and strength, and the work that 
 he was called to do for Christ permitted. Was there ever a 
 man more thoroughly or rightfully respected in a community 
 than he was in this? Was there ever one who either 
 deserved or received more of the esteem and confidence of 
 all who knew him? "A real good man." How often we 
 have heard the words, in this connection, in these last few 
 days, and from how many kinds of men ! The church is 
 weaker, the communit)- jioorer for his loss. We all feel it 
 so to-night. 
 
 He was what God made him. It was the faith he had 
 in Jesus Christ; the service that he had rendered to his Lord, 
 that gave him the strength, tenderness, purity and power. 
 Without his religion he was but as other men. By the 
 constraining power of the love of Christ he was lifted to the 
 place he filled, so that we now lament " a prince and a great 
 
 34 
 
man fallen in Israel." To me the lesson of his life is this: 
 The worth of Christianity to the soul, the ennobling, elevating 
 power of our faith ; the dignity and manliness of being 
 "a servant of God and of the Lord Jesus Christ." We shall 
 miss him from his place among us, but shall not his power 
 and influence live on, while we follow him as he followed 
 Christ ? 
 
 35 
 
Eternal Life in Christ Alone. 
 
SERMON BY REV. DR. LEDOUX. 
 
 yohn 6; 68. Then Simon Peter answered him, Lord, to whom shall we go? Thou 
 hast the words of eternal life. 
 
 The question of the text is the strongest form of an 
 assertion. In its real import, it is not an inquiry, but rather 
 the result of inquiry. Peter and the other apostles of 
 our Lord had sought eternal life in many ways. They 
 had tried the world and that had proved a failure. It 
 had not satisfied their cravings after eternal life. They 
 had tried the service of sin, and found that instead of 
 obtaining life as a result, " the wages of sin is deaths Some 
 of them had committed themselves to the Scribes and 
 Pharisees, and by them had been led astray. They had 
 resorted to their own schemes, and soug-ht to work out for 
 themselves a rig-hteousness of their own, but to their bitter 
 disappointment, found that they made no progress in that. 
 They had gone to Moses and he had pointed them to 
 another. They had gone to John the Baptist and he pointed 
 them to One who was coming after him — the true light — 
 One whose shoe's latchet he was not worthy to unloose. 
 They had finally gone to Christ himself, and here the)- had 
 at last found what they had in vain sought elsewhere. Vrom 
 His lips they at last heard "the words of eternal life." And 
 now, with all this experience gathered from so failures, 
 so man)- abortive attempts, how natural the answer which 
 is here given to the (juestion of Jesus in the verse preceding 
 the text: "Then said Jesus to the twelve, wh.i, ve also 
 
 38 
 
CO AWAY? Then Simon Peter answered Him, Lord, to 
 
 WHOM SHALL WE (iO? ThoU HAST THE WORDS OF EtERNAL 
 
 Like." 
 
 With the same tentative spirit let us, my friends, now 
 spend a few moments in search of peace, of salvation ; let 
 us, if possible, find eternal life. In pursuit of this salvation 
 I find myself ignorant, bewildered, unhappy. I am conscious 
 of a lack of real comfort and true peace in all my joys. 
 I long for a satisfaction which I have never yet found in 
 living to eat, to drink and to enjoy this world. I find many 
 teachers ready to aid me in my search ; to direct me in my 
 inquiry, I go to one, for instance, who willingly undertakes 
 to direct me, and he sends me 
 
 i._TO NATURE AND HER PRECEPTS. He tells 
 me that if I attentively study her laws and conform to them, 
 I shall not fail to find the bliss for which I sigh. Anxious 
 to find this peace, I go to Nature as directed, and study her 
 precepts and listen to her voice of instruction. I enter her 
 courts ; I ascend her lofty mountains, and there, possessed 
 with an idea of the greatness and goodness of Nature's God, 
 I am in no way benefitted. I have only, so to speak, 
 approached nearer to an infinite God, whose laws I have 
 broken, whose authority I have rejected. I descend without 
 peace. I enter Nature's laboratory below, and there I behold 
 her processes. There is the crystal receiving its shape, its 
 angles and polish — the diamond its beauty and hardness. 
 I leave this, awe-struck, and impressed with a feeling that 
 God is here — this is holy ground, and / am a sinner. The 
 power, wisdom and goodness of God, as here seen, are 
 indeed calculated to lead me to repentance, and yet / have 
 no penitent feelings. I ramble through the valleys and over 
 
 39 
 
the fields. I find the flowers gorgeously arrayed, painted 
 in every variety of color and shade. Their fragrance floats 
 in the air and meets me. All teach me the eternal power 
 and Godhead of the Deity. All Nature teaches me that I 
 am a fallen being in the midst of these displays of grandeur, 
 wisdom and goodness. And here I find my disease render- 
 ed worse rather than better. / am a sinner. As such, 1 
 ask Nature to save me — to comfort me in my deep agitation. 
 I press Nature to tell me what to do with a long catalogue 
 of sins which I produce before her. I urge her to tell me 
 how these can be blotted out. She in vain points me - to 
 her oceans, lakes and rivers full of water. All the cleansing 
 properties of all the water of the world cannot make my 
 heart clean ; these sins are of so deep a dye that nothing 
 within the power or possession of Nature can bleach them. 
 
 Finding myself disappointed here, I turn with sadness 
 to another teacher. Seating myself at his feet, I ask him in 
 tears what I must do to be saved. This one, after hearing my 
 statements, bids me 
 
 2. TURN FROM NATURE WITHOUT TO NATURE 
 WITHIN ME. He tells me that man's moral nature is not 
 so deranged, not so degraded, not so fallen as to be past 
 self-recovery. He tells me that if I look within I shall find 
 there some spark of the original fire that burned upon the 
 altar of man's heart, though it be in a smothered condition. 
 His original righteousness is not clean gone forever. The 
 moral image of God is not entirel)- blotted out in him. He 
 appeals to the finer sentiments of our nature. He bids me 
 watch closely and detect my abhorrence of the grosser and 
 more debasing evils into which the less refined in society 
 plunge. He asks me if I am not shocked at such exhibitions 
 
 40 
 
of depravity, if I do not instinctively shrink from them. Hr' 
 thus flatters me and tells me that I am unnecessarily alarmed 
 at my sins. They are only those errors and delinquencies 
 which belong to all men in this world of imperfections. He 
 tells me that I have self-love and that I will surely, on the 
 whole, do what my interest demands. In short, he tells me 
 to look within me to find out what I must do to be saved. 
 
 For a moment I find myself somewhat relieved by this 
 flattery. But it is only for a moment. I ask myse'f 
 what if it turn out that in being honest I am secretly following 
 a maxim of this selfish world, viz.: that " Honesty is the best 
 policy!' I ask myself, if naturally disposed to do right, why 
 did that mother, from my earliest infancy, watch over my 
 morals with such anxiety and even with tears ? Why was 
 there so much of law in that household ? Why such strict- 
 ness in demanding obedience ? Why such hard thoughts in 
 boyhood when my wish was denied, when my purpose was 
 crossed ? May we not be indebted to the moulding influence 
 and discipline of parents and teachers for that moral con- 
 duct, that exalted idea of honesty and all those upright views 
 of life which render men pleasant, useful and respected mem- 
 bers of societ}^? 
 
 I find, then, that it turns out that it is not on account of, but 
 in spite of, my original disposition, that I am what I am. Nor 
 dare I say what the amount of influence • pious people and 
 the preaching of the Gospel have upon me to keep from 
 committing those grosser deeds of inquity from which I now 
 shrink. Besides all this, I feel still that I am a sinner. I 
 am "weighed in the balances" and am "found wanting." I 
 am once more disappointed. I find the class of feelings to 
 which I have been directed to be insufficient to oroide me 
 
 41 
 
from one victor)- of sin over another. It is unsafe to trust 
 to them. I turn, then, from m)'self and this guide, and 
 resolve to try again, and thus I repair to another teacher. 
 
 3. — This one, wholly mistaking my case, bids me " GOV- 
 ERN MYSELF BY THE SAYINGS OF WISE MEN," 
 to conform to the prudential rules of those men of broad 
 common sense and experience who have left their thoughts 
 to the world, but especially to the youth of the world. " Fol- 
 low these maxims," says this one, "govern yourself by these 
 precepts and you will find no occasion for uneasiness. 
 Prosperity will attend you here, and beyond ' the debt ot 
 nature' which you will pay at death, nothing will be demand- 
 ed of you in the future." But here again I am doomed to 
 disappointment. I am a sinner and looking for eternal life. 
 This teacher, instead of probing my wounds, has sought to 
 heal them from without, and this effort onl)- tends to increase 
 the inflammation within. These maxims, when followed, will 
 indeed exert a happ)- influence on the character. The max- 
 ims of a Franklin, when followed, will indeed point out how 
 to secure and keep health; how to live with econoni), but 
 this is not to the point. The issue is not met. The maxims, 
 in conformity to which I shall appear well in societ)-, secure 
 a robust body, keep a sound mind and obtain wealth, are not 
 "the words of eternal life" to which the Apostle refers in the 
 text. The aphorisms of men, however wise and useful to 
 guide us in the present life, will not give the seeker after 
 "eternal life" true peace. This is, therefore, a cJicat. plaus- 
 ible indeed, but, nevertheless, a r//^^//. Alas! And must I 
 be disappointed cvcrytoherc? Is there no hope for me? 
 "Yes," cries a fourth teacher, 
 
 4. _-LOOK TO THE MAJESTY OF YOUR OWN 
 
 42 
 
REASON. Pin your faith to no man's sleeve, follow your own 
 di\'ine reason and banish your fears in regard to the future. 
 You have been deceived; like many other unfortunate ones, 
 your education has been conducted under the pressure of a 
 fanaticism which ever imagines itself just on the verge of an 
 endless perdition — a fanaticism which gluts itself on the 
 awful idea of a God who is to judge this world at some appoint- 
 ed day in the unknown, untried future. An education con- 
 ducted under the authority of an ancient Book, containing the 
 morbid philosophy, the poetic effusions and the history of 
 men of a dark and barbarous past age ; dreamers who, like 
 some in every age of the world, supposed themselves under 
 the inspiration and guidance of a God." 
 
 This teacher, in short, assures me that the sooner I shall 
 discard these silly notions, the better it will be for me — the 
 sooner will I obtain peace. To convince me of the wisdom 
 of this advice, to encourage me to follow the majesty of 
 reason from the example of others, he places in my hand a 
 manual containing the names of all great infidels, their bold 
 and independent course of reasoning and the results to 
 which they have arrived without the aid of Christianity or 
 Christianity's Bible. 
 
 But here, in the outset, we are startled by the great 
 diversity of opinions which they hold, while we are often very 
 much puzzled to understand what they really mean. 
 
 Let us turn, first, to the history of English infidelity, and 
 select some points. Here we find, for example, the dis- 
 tinguished Hobbes proving to us that there is no God ; 
 contending that whatever man desires, he has a right to 
 appropriate to himself. Thus, with one stroke, he not only 
 sweeps away Christianity, but he also sweeps away all rights 
 
 43 
 
among men, and his reasonings carried out, would bring into 
 one general mass of ruin the whole framework of society. 
 
 Following him comes another name of some note, but 
 one who, by no means, agrees with Hobbes in regard to the 
 existence of a Deity. Shaftesbury teaches, indeed, that there 
 is a God, but discards the idea of Christianity as a divine 
 remedial system. Upon the fundamental idea of a God, 
 these two infidels take diametrically different sides. 
 
 Notice, next, the great champion Hume, with his subtle 
 metaphysics. Although teaching the existence of a God, he 
 also teaches that God is an infinite vegetation ! 
 
 We turn to France and there we find two of her most 
 distinguished infidels also disputing among themselves. 
 Here is Voltaire, on the one hand, expressing himself doubt- 
 ful in regard to the existence of a Deity; denying positively 
 the existence of the soul after death; sneering at the doc- 
 trines of the Bible, as preposterous and childish, — on the 
 other hand, Rousseau, whilst denying the divine origin of 
 the Scriptures, maintains that they contain an elevation of 
 thought and a purity which can be found in no other book. 
 Contrary to Voltaire, he believes in a God and a Providence. 
 
 Shall we next turn to Germany? Here we find ourselves 
 entering an inextricable labyrinth. Guided by his reason, 
 one teaches that God is ever) thing we see, touch, eat and 
 drink ! Another great philosopher starts with the astound- 
 ing proposition as the basis of his system of philosophy that 
 "/ is /.''" ''Everything is lohat it is, it is eitJicr 1 or not /." 
 
 Another lays down the proposition that ''entity is nothing; 
 and that the unity of entity and )iothing constitutes existence!' 
 
 Another, after a long and tedious process of reasoning, 
 arrives at the conclusion that "something and nothing are 
 
 44 
 
the same." All these discard the Scriptures, and come to 
 these conclusions by the light of reason. You can judge 
 now of my perplexity to decide on the course I am to pur- 
 sue. Whom shall I follow of these teachers? This is indeed 
 the question to decide, and decide it I cannot without hav- 
 ing some doubt that I may be wrong in doing so. Besides 
 all this, while 1 am conscious of being a sinner, I am also 
 looking to a death-bed upon which I must very soon be laid, 
 and as I read of the closing lives of very many of the infidels 
 who have lived and died, I am most painfully impressed with 
 the fact that infidelity seems to be illy adapted to give her 
 disciples true and sustaining peace in the hour of death. If 
 their remorse of conscience, their shrieks of despair, their 
 curses and imprecations, are to be taken as the legitimate 
 preparation for death which infidelity gives men, I certainly 
 shrink from becominor one of its votaries. Here is not the 
 boon which I seek. Where then is it ? Ah ! I find a fifth 
 teacher 
 
 5. WHO SENDS ME TO GOD'S HOLY BOOK. 
 But what do I find here ? I find a law that reproaches me 
 and heaps curses upon me. It arrays my sins before me 
 and makes them appear exceeding sinful. I ask for mercy 
 at its hands; it answers that ''the soul that sinneth it shall 
 die!'' It declares that God is just, and will by no means 
 clear the guilty. It drowns my hopeless and piteous cries 
 by peals of thunder. When I approach the awful mount, it 
 sends forth its black, curling smoke, and I quake and stand 
 back. My troubles increase, my prospects become more 
 gloomy than ever before. I find myself tossed upon a sea of 
 agitation without a pilot — without a star. O, the horrors of 
 such a condition ! All teachers to whom I repaired have 
 
 45 
 
misdirected me, and now this last teacher, the Law of God, 
 curses me! Ah, but thanks be to God. this last teacher, 
 after all, is "the school-master that leads me to Christ." 
 Whilst thus riding on the raging sea, almost driven to dis- 
 traction, a star arises to guide me to the port of peace, that 
 star is the Star of Bethlehem. W ith irrepressible joy I 
 exclaim, "I have at last found true peace!" All I want 
 I find in this blessed Saviour. In Him I am complete. He 
 is to me wisdom, and rigJitesiisness, and saiictificatio7i. and 
 redemption'' Let the Law now say, "thou art a sinner and 
 shalt pa\' th)- debt or die." I can say, "This is a faithful 
 
 SAVING AND WORTHV OF ALL ACCEPTATION, THAT ChRIST JeSUS 
 CAME INTO THE WORLD TO SAVE SINNERS." " He waS bruiscd 
 
 for my iniquities, wounded for my transgressions, and with 
 His stripes I am healed." Do I feel that I need repentance? 
 
 " He is EXALTED AS A FRIEND AND A SaVIOURTO GIVE REPENT- 
 
 ANtE." Does the question turn upon my righteousness? 
 "Christ is the end of the Law for righteousness to ez'eryone that 
 belicvethy Do I want an assurance that I shall never be 
 disappointed — never be moved if I trust him? 1 obtain that 
 assurance in the precious promise that I shall be "kept 
 
 TIIRr)U(;H FAITH unto THE DAV OF CO>n'LETE REDEMFriON." 
 
 In Him I find a kind and constant and true s) mpathizer in 
 all my troubles and bereavements. In Him I see a light 
 that enlightens the dark and gloomy tomb; for He who is 
 "the resurrection and the life hath brous^ht life and immor- 
 tality to light." He has indeed 'UJie zoords of eternal life." 
 In Him all doubts are removed, all difficulties settled, all 
 darkness dispelled, all fear taken away, all despair exchanged 
 for hope, all trials rendered tolerable, all burdens rendered 
 light, all guilt pardoned, all wounds healed, all disease cured. 
 
 46 
 
all uncleanness washed away, all future dangers averted, all 
 sighs repressed, all groans hushed, all tears dried, all joys 
 sweetened ! 
 
 O precious Saviour! Thou art indeed our light, our hope, 
 our salvation, our joy. Thou alone hast the words of eternal 
 life ! " Be Thou our all, our tJicmc, our inspiration and our 
 croion, our strength in age, our rise in loiu estate, our soul's 
 ambition, pleasure, luealth, our ivorld, o?ir light in darkness 
 and our life in death." 
 
 My dear unconverted friends, hozv long ivill you strive 
 after true peace where you never can find it ? Ought not 
 ten, twenty, or it may be forty years of this fruitless experi- 
 menting, to suffice ? Why not go directly to Christ for 
 words of eternal life ? Never will you find it short of Him. 
 You will be restless until you get upon this rock. 
 
 Christians I what think ye of Christ this morning? May 
 I not safely call some oiyoiL back to H im ? Are there none here 
 who have in some degree ceased to realize that Christ alone 
 has "the words of eternal life?" Are not many of you, 
 before me, roaming after the joys which you are sensible of 
 needing? Return then to your Jesus at once. Stay not on 
 account of sin — because burdened with sorrow. He Him- 
 self says this morning: " Come unto Me all ye that labor 
 AND are heavy LADEN, AND I WILL GIVE YOU REST." What- 
 ever be your trials, your difficulties, your doubts, your fears, 
 come to Jesus and you will find Him as ready as ever to bless 
 and comfort you. He is ever the same wise, good and 
 sympathizing Jesus. 
 
 47 
 
" When our purest delights are nipt in the blossom ; 
 
 ^\'hen those we love best are laid low, 
 ^\"hen grief plants in secret her thorn in the bosom, 
 
 Deserted ' to whom shall we go ? ' 
 
 " When error bewilders, and our path becomes dreary. 
 
 And tears of despondency flow ; 
 When the whole head is sick, and the whole heart is weary, 
 
 Despairing ' to whom shall we go ? ' 
 
 " When the sad, thirsty spirit turns from the springs 
 
 Of enchantment this life can bestow, 
 And sighs for another, and flutters its wings, 
 
 "Impatient, ' to whom shall we go?' 
 
 " O blest be the light which has parted the clouds, 
 
 A path to the pilgrim to show, 
 That pierces the veil which the future enshrouds, 
 
 And show us, to whom we may go. " 
 
 48 
 
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