*re> 14 191® 
 
 In Jttemariam. 
 
 SERVICES 
 
 AT 
 
 / 
 
 ST. MARK’S CHURCH IN THE BOWERIE, 
 
 ST. MARK’S MISSION CHAPEL, 
 (ftommemorattb* 
 
 OF THE 
 
 Rev. HENRY DUYCKINCK. 
 
 
 ‘ 
 
THE RICH AND POOR MEET TOGETHER. 
 
 A SERMON 
 
 IN BEHALF OF THE 
 
 pissimr Modi of St. Park's CljaprI, 
 
 BY THE 
 
 Rev. HENRY DUYCKINCK, 
 
 LATE MINISTER IN CHARGE. 
 
 WITH 
 
 INTRODUCTORY REMARKS BY THE REV. HENRY C. POTTER, D. D. 
 DELIVERED AT ST. MARK’S CHURCH IN THE BOWERIE. 
 
 AND 
 
 % Jftnmal S-ermotr 
 
 BY THE 
 
 Key. EDWARD H. KEANS. 
 
 PREACHED AT ST. MARK’S CHAPEL, FEBRUARY 27, 1870. 
 
 £®ith otheq Ptamoqial Roticss. 
 
 NEW YORK: 
 
 PRINTED FOR ST. MARK’S MISSION SOCIETY. 
 
 1870 . 
 
Digitized by the Internet Archive 
 in 2016 
 
 https://archive.org/details/sermoninbehalfofOOduyc 
 

 ST. MARK’S MISSION CHAPEL. 
 
 St. Mark’s Mission was started early in the year 1862, 
 in a room of No. 164 Avenue A, by the Rev. A. H. Vin- 
 ton, D. D., Rector of St. Mark’s Church in the Bowerie, 
 as a Sunday-school, with lay services in the evening, under 
 the superintendence of the Rev. George W. Foote, assisted 
 by the Rev. Octavius Applegate, both students at that 
 time of the General Theological Seminary, New York. 
 
 Early in the year 1864, the Rector of St. Mark’s pur- 
 chased the present Chapel building, 155 Avenue A. On 
 the 3d of July of this year the Rev. George W. Foote 
 was ordained to the diaconate, and on the evening of that 
 day the first baptism took place, when fourteen persons 
 were baptized by the Rev. Mr. Foote. Here we may date 
 the organization of the Chapel, although a Confirmation 
 class of seven was presented by Dr. Vinton to Bishop 
 Potter on the 24th of April preceding, at St. Mark’s Church 
 in the Bowerie. 
 
 Mr. Foote remained in charge of the Chapel until May, 
 
 1 866, when he resigned and took charge of a parish in the 
 western part of the State, and was succeeded at the Chapel 
 by the Rev. Thos. R. Harris, who assumed charge in the 
 month of July following. He resigned in May, 1867, and 
 was succeeded in July following by the Rev. Justin P. Kel- 
 logg, who remained in charge until March, 1869; he was 
 succeeded in the month of April by the Rev. Edward H. 
 Krans, who remained until the close of November, when 
 the Rev. Henry Duyckinck assumed charge and remained 
 until his death, which took place February 16, 1870. 
 
 burton HIST, collection 
 
 DETROIT 
 
 exchange duplicate 
 
4 
 
 In May, 1867, an association was organized under the 
 laws of the State of New York, entitled “ The St. Mark’s 
 in the Bowerie Mission Society in the City of New York,” 
 to which the Mission property was conveyed by Dr. Vin- 
 ton, in 1868. 
 
 There is a Primary Day-school connected with the 
 Chapel, which was transferred from the Parish Church in 
 April, 1865, under the management of Miss Margaret Ray, 
 assisted by her sister Miss Fanny Ray. The average at- 
 tendance at this school has been 1 50 daily. 
 
 Mr. William Raeburn entered upon his duty in 1864 as 
 lay visitor and collector for the support of the Chapel, and 
 for the St. Luke’s Association of St. Mark’s Church in the 
 Bowerie, which position he still retains. 
 
 In January, 1865, Mrs. William Raeburn was employed 
 as Bible-reader and Superintendent of the Mothers’ In- 
 dustrial meetings which are held on Wednesday evenings 
 of each week, except during the Lenten season. 
 
 Dr. Iretus G. Cardner, 221 E. 58th St., has generously 
 and faithfully served as physician for the Mission. 
 
 The Mission has been a remarkably successful one. 
 
 Total number of baptisms - 
 
 - 
 
 - 312 
 
 u u 
 
 confirmations 
 
 - 
 
 - 222 
 
 u << 
 
 burials 
 
 - 
 
 - 88 
 
 << u 
 
 marriages - 
 
 - 
 
 - 34 
 
TRUSTEES OE THE CHAPEL. 
 
 HENRY B. REN WICK, President and Treasurer, 17 East 9th Street. 
 WILLIAM H. SCOTT, 
 
 PETER C. SCHUYLER. 
 
 SUPERINTENDENT OF SUNDAY SCHOOL. 
 
 JOHN BOWNE. 
 
 TEACHERS. 
 
 Mrs. Sarah Marsh, 
 
 Miss Louisa Dean, 
 
 “ Eliza Jane Neyan, 
 
 “ A. E. Dominick, 
 
 “ Sarah S. Chapman, 
 
 “ Martha E. Russell, 
 
 “ Mary Jane Newsted, 
 “ Christina Shand, 
 
 “ Martha Stenzel. 
 
 *• Augusta Osmer, 
 
 “ Louisa Armbrecht. 
 
 “ Annie Williams. 
 
 Miss Sarah M. Burke, 
 
 “ Eliza P. Bowne, 
 
 “ Kattie Helmrich, 
 
 “ Caroline Oirard, 
 
 “ Jennie Lamb, 
 
 “ M. L. Christian, 
 
 “ Bertha Zimmer, 
 
 “ Henrietta Bennet, 
 Mr. Marcus A. Gilbert, 
 
 * f Robert Hume, 
 
 “ James Anderson, 
 
 “ Dunbar. 
 
 Librarian— Mr. William King, 
 
 First Assistant Librarian— Master Jacob Kopp, 
 Second “ “ —Master Joseph Kay, 
 
 Collector and Secretary —Mr. David Kay, 
 Organist and Quoir Leade?'— Miss Jane M. Burke. 
 
The last composition for the pulpit of the late Rev. Henry 
 Duyckinck, written within a week of the time he was taken ill, was a 
 sermon prepared by request to be preached in St. Mark’s Church, in 
 the Bowerie, setting forth the mission work of St. Mark’s Chapel. 
 The morning of Sunday, February 13th, was appointed for the delivery 
 of this discourse. At that time its writer was prostrated by his 
 sickness. After his death it was thought proper by the Vestry of St. 
 Mark’s that this sermon should be delivered to the congregation. The 
 Rev. Dr. Henry C. Potter, Rector of Grace Church, having kindly con- 
 sented to their wish that he should undertake this service, the sermon 
 was read by him, with prefatory remarks, at a special Memorial 
 Service, held at the Church, on the evening of Sunday, February 27, 
 1870. 
 
INTRODUCTORY REMARKS 
 
 BY THE 
 
 REV. HENRY C. POTTER, D. D. 
 
 The brother in whose place I stand to-night, and 
 whose discourse, prepared by him for this congregation, 
 I am about to read to you, was so little known to many 
 to whom I speak, that I venture to preface his appeal for 
 St. Mark’s Mission with a few words concerning his ear- 
 lier history, and his previous, all too brief ministry. 
 
 Henry Duyckinck, the son of Evert A. and Margaret 
 Wolfe Duyckinck, was born in the city of New York, 
 November 6, 1843. He was baptized at St. Thomas’ 
 Churqh by the Rev. John Henry Hobart. He was edu- 
 cated at home and in Columbia College, whence he passed 
 to the General Theological Seminary, pursuing the usual 
 three years’ course of study at that institution, gradua 
 ting in 1867, when he was ordained deacon by the Bishop 
 of this diocese. His first service was in the parish to 
 which he had always been attached, at St. Thomas’ 
 Church, in the absence of the rector during one of the 
 summer months. Admitted to the priesthood by Bishop 
 Potter in 1868, he officiated at the Church of the Annun- 
 ciation during the three summer months of that year. 
 In the winter of 1868-9, as in the previous winter, he 
 constantly assisted at the Church of the Holy Martyrs, 
 under the pastoral care of the Rev. James Millett, and 
 2 
 
continued frequently to officiate at this church during 
 the remaining portion of his ministry. In the summer 
 of 1869, during the absence of its minister, the Rev. 
 Walter Delafield, in Europe, he had charge of Grace 
 Chapel, his next continuous service being as minister in 
 charge of St. Mark’s Mission Chapel, the duties of which 
 he entered upon on the first of December last. In the 
 course of his ministry he performed various other ser- 
 vices more or less of a special character, at different 
 churches in New York and its vicinity, preaching fre- 
 quently at the Mission House of St. Barnabas. He was, 
 in fact, constantly employed, his last chapel service at the 
 Mission of St. Mark’s, being on the evening of Wednes- 
 day, February 9th, on which occasion he read, with com- 
 ments, the whole of the Sermon on the Mount. The next 
 morning he opened the day-school of the Mission with 
 its simple religious service, and that day came home ill, 
 but not seriously, as it was thought. A fever, however, 
 soon developed itself, which assumed the typhoid form, 
 and early on the morning of the 16th terminated his 
 earthly career. 
 
 To our short-sighted vision nothing could well be 
 more mysterious than the termination of such a life at 
 the age of twenty -six years. Henry Duyckinck had but 
 just found opportunities which fairly called forth those 
 gifts which promised to make his ministry so wide and 
 real a blessing. Could he but have lived a little longer, 
 it seems to us, looking at this providence of the Master 
 from our side of it only, that he might have done a noble 
 and blessed work for God and His Church. 
 
 For he had, in the first place, that without which a man 
 
can scarcely hope to render substantial service anywhere 
 — a robust physical organization. Until death struck him 
 so sudden and so sore a blow, he had enjoyed almost un- 
 interrupted and vigorous health, and had been wonted to 
 endure fatigue and the strain of hard work, without re- 
 luctance and without physical inconvenience. His habits 
 were active and laborious, and the clear, full voice with 
 which he was endowed, made the public services of the 
 Church no wearisome or distressing task. 
 
 To these physical qualifications for his work, he added 
 warm and deep sympathies, which drew him toward all 
 classes with whom he came in contact, and which, despite 
 his retiring and unobtrusive disposition, made him the 
 welcome minister to those in sorrow, and especially to the 
 sick and poor. His duties, in the various positions which 
 he occupied, led him much among these ; but he went in 
 no mechanical way and with no perfunctory spirit. He 
 understood the poor with that deepest insight, which is 
 the fruit not so much of extended observation or large 
 experience, as of real and heartfelt sympathy. 
 
 Coupled w T ith this characteristic of his ministry, there 
 was another which does not always accompany it, I mean 
 a sound and wise judgment. He was never carried away 
 by mere feeling. He never spoke or acted from a rash 
 impulse ; and, in positions requiring peculiar tact and 
 delicacy, he bore himself with a wisdom, discretion and 
 unswerving singleness and simplicity of motive, which 
 were as rare as they were admirable. 
 
 It was natural that such a man should be a loyal 
 Churchman, loving the Church for her clear witness to 
 the truths of his Master’s gospel, and prizing her peace- 
 
ful ways, her Apostolic order and her grand simplicity 
 of creed and ritual, above novelties of every name. For 
 these, he would turn aside neither to the right hand nor 
 to the left, and, while neither narrowly wedded to the 
 past nor weakly dreading the future, he saw in the Re- 
 formed standards of her Catholic faith and worship, the 
 best hope of that future, as well as the truest glory of her 
 past. 
 
 And these characteristics, in turn, found their explana- 
 tion largely in his studious and thoughtful habits, which 
 made him familiar with the best literature of the past, 
 and educated him to intelligent acquaintance with church 
 doctrine and Christian history. He read only the best 
 authors (would that we, his brethren, could as resolutely 
 refuse to be beguiled into more flowery but less edifying 
 paths !) ; and modern vagaries of doctrine or practice 
 failed utterly to get the slightest hold upon his sympath- 
 thies or convictions. Fie seemed incapable of doubt, 
 and he put aside the clever sophistries by which many 
 minds, in our day, are so easily disturbed, without being, 
 for a moment, shaken or perplexed by them. 
 
 But there were in him nobler qualities than these, and 
 first among them, an unselfish and unreservedly devoted 
 heart. He gave himself to his ministry without reluc- 
 tance and without reserve. He did not look for ease, -and 
 he did not content himself with merely fulfilling the formal 
 requirements of his office. He worked in season and out 
 of season, and no risk or exposure deterred him from 
 penetrating into the darkest abodes of penury, or igno- 
 rance, or disease. We may not trace the connection be- 
 tween the illness which struck him down and the perils 
 
! 3 
 
 of that laborious ministry which preceded it, but those 
 who knew him best will most deeply feel with me, that, 
 if his death was the consequence of his fidelity to his 
 work, it was like him not to hesitate for one instant in 
 facing such a consequence. 
 
 Yet how could he have done so, had he not been, most 
 of all, a man of prayer? It was on his knees that he 
 found strength for the labors of his ministry, and courage 
 in the face of its discouragements. I have been permitted 
 to possess myself of an extract from his private note- 
 book, which illustrates this so strikingly that I ask your 
 permission to read it. It is a prayer penned on the 
 threshold of a day of ministerial labor, and conceived 
 and uttered in a spirit of such pathetic simplicity and 
 fervor, as makes it a genuine model : 
 
 “ God grant me the power to do to-day’s work with a 
 bright and cheerful heart, to think that I can do some- 
 thing for His praise and glory ; and more than all, may 
 He bestow upon me the strength to teach and preach the 
 law of His most blessed and holy will, that the words of 
 truth eternal and able to save the world, may never be 
 spoken by me in vain, but that they find an entrance into 
 some heart, and cause to spring forth in its prepared soil 
 the peaceable fruits of righteousness.” 
 
 It was impossible that such a ministry, so deep in a 
 temper of unsparing self-sacrifice and habitual devotion, 
 should have failed to make itself felt, and we stand here 
 this evening, sadly yet thankfully conjecturing what it 
 would so surely have accomplished had God vouchsafed 
 to it a longer day and a less narrow opportunity. 
 
 Yet brief as it has been, it is not without its lesson to 
 
M 
 
 us who remain. It reminds us that it is not conspicuous 
 place or length of days that we need, in order to do sub- 
 stantial work for Christ and His Church, but rather a 
 willling and upward - looking heart and a single and un- 
 swerving purpose. For these, as for every other excel- 
 lency in his brief but well-rounded career, let us thank 
 God, as we call to mind the “ good example ” of our now 
 departed Brother, of whom a voice from heaven anew 
 bids with joyous confidence to write : 
 
 “ Blessed are the dead who die in the Lord : 
 
 EVEN SO SAITH THE SPIRIT, FOR THEY REST FROM 
 THEIR LABORS.’’ 
 
SERMON 
 
 BY THE 
 
 REV. HENRY DUYCKINCK. 
 
 “ The rich and poor meet together.” — P roverbs, xxii. 2. 
 
 The rich and poor meet together — and each of these 
 contraries needs the other’s care and willing help. For 
 many things, the rich must look towards the poor man’s 
 strong hand of labor ; and, when he needs the daily bread 
 of life, — and when is the time that he does not need it, — 
 the poor child of God who has nothing must draw near 
 to him who hath, to seek and ask. It is the poor man’s 
 toil that builds the rich man’s house ; it is the rich man’s 
 wealth that provides this diligent minister to his necessity 
 with the present power to procure some narrow room of 
 rest for the night — an inn and passing shelter — for a much 
 needed repose. All wait upon each other ; the clerk upon 
 the merchant : the porter who bows his shoulder to bear 
 hath released the master, who hives his thousands, of no 
 light and easy yoke. And, what could the State do for 
 the support of the law, if it had not the humble officers 
 who were obedient unto it ? And, how would the present 
 strength of national power be preserved, if there were not 
 soldiers — men of no reputation, called from the host of 
 Man, who were trained to act in its defence ? It is the 
 
poor man’s hand that kneads the bread of daily life. It is 
 the poor man’s obedient industry that clothes the body’s 
 nakedness with the raiment of our weakness and need. 
 And, are not the servants who wait upon pleasure God’s 
 poor men ? And, go where we may, we must meet to- 
 gether. At the rich man’s door is laid the beggar ; at 
 the roadside of the crowded city sits blind Bartimeus. 
 And near us, as in our thronged streets the hearse of the 
 dead jostles the carriage of the living citizen — thinking, 
 “ good easy man,” of many days — near us, are the multi- 
 tude of the halt, and lame, and sick, with the body and soul’s 
 infirmities, who are sent to meet us by Him who is both 
 the poor and rich man’s Lord and friend and elder broth- 
 er. And here, in this house of prayer and praise, where 
 all meet together, all are equal — for unto the poor as to 
 the rich was the Gospel preached. He who received 
 Zaccheus, did he not also accept the faith of a penitent 
 thief, and call to his heavenly feast all these his poor chil- 
 dren, who, like Himself, had not where to lay their heads ? 
 Know that the two are one for ever. The poor man’s 
 confession to the messenger of God bears witness to the 
 power of Christ, the resurrection and the life. The widow 
 with her two mites can open the door of Paradise as well 
 as the good and faithful servant whose ten increased tal- 
 ents have won the favor of his Lord — to be without whose 
 presence is to find hell indeed. And all die and descend 
 to the grave together. All can say Our Father. All 
 need to ask for mercy — and the witness of the Spirit that 
 moveth within every heart is that they are unworthy serv- 
 ants, who can do nothing at all. 
 
 Now I have said that each requires the help of each. 
 
l 7 
 
 The rich man left alone, and having all things, may well be 
 troubled for the misery that is come upon him. There- 
 fore he ought to love and cherish this brother whom God 
 hath given him. The work of charity is a part of his duty 
 to his God. The command of Heaven’s high law is, Let 
 the strong bear the infirmities of the weak ; and ye are the 
 strong ; and when ye shut your ears to the cry of misery, 
 and have no wish to give to him who asketh you, how 
 dwelleth the love of God in you ? For, lo ! at your door 
 is laid the weary, wounded Christ — and he who hath not, 
 who knows not to-day how he is to satisfy to-morrow’s 
 want, is the true son of Him who was born in a manger 
 and died in all humility, and forgotten of all His faithless 
 world. Ye have no right to refuse your brother’s prayer. 
 God owns everything. The talents are lent, not given. 
 The treasure is to be used in works of charity — not for 
 your own work of selfishness, which is self-destruction. 
 But we cannot think that you will forsake this work which 
 brings heaven to earth. For what is the work which we 
 ask you to do ? It is a work of reform and progress, and 
 the evil subdued by the good. For a mission ought — I 
 speak to you of your own work, the Mission Chapel of 
 St. Mark’s — to be a chief agent of reform. The laws that 
 are taught in that school of charity are the laws that help 
 to maintain constant health both of soul and body. Its 
 teachers bring the blessed rudiments of knowledge to 
 those who dwell in the evil darkness of that miserable 
 want which makes the whole heart sick, and whose 
 wretched influences destroy every wish to arise and try 
 to do some wise work that may help to prepare the way 
 for a better end. They are the laws of quiet and order ; 
 3 
 
1 8 
 
 and even they who prefer the weary life of all riotous liv- 
 ing, cannot often draw near that place of a great calm on 
 earth, without being sometimes tempted to desire that 
 there may be something of its quiet peace within their 
 own hearts also. The words of warning that are heard 
 in this one place, at least — of honest speech for God’s sake, 
 have been as the great light from Heaven to one who has 
 gone astray, and have led him to think soberly of what 
 manner of man he was. The visit of the minister caused 
 some to remember that there is an interest which is eter- 
 nal ; and whether they bade him welcome in their hearts 
 or not, how could they forget, while he talked with them 
 that his cause was not of this world ? And is it not well 
 for them to feel this fact ? And as he talked to them of 
 the order of daily life, akin to godliness, they could not 
 refuse to hear him : and knowing that they needed to 
 overcome their indifference to it, they could not resist 
 a natural tendency to be ashamed of that indifference, 
 and their shame wrought wonderfully in the work of 
 that reform. And the children whom they sent to the 
 day-school, an essential part of every well furnished mis- 
 sion, as they learnt the same lessons, which taught 
 them how to escape another’s failures, the day’s task 
 had this advantage at least, to prevent the reign of bois- 
 terous mischief, which most hearty children love. They 
 were taught daily how to pray and praise and sing ; 
 and in some little history they read of the world’s coun- 
 tries — what their names and features were. And they 
 were told also of the worlds of light — how dark to us — 
 which lie all around us. And were they not instructed 
 in some simple matters of daily use ; and found they not 
 
1 9 
 
 a motive for at least a few hours’ work ? And when the 
 Sunday came, came there not trained teachers also, who 
 told them of the Christian virtues and of the Children’s 
 Friend in heaven, and of the promise of His regard? 
 And though there were not a few young idle hearts that 
 thought much of play and very little of these things now, 
 did not Faith teach us to believe that the time would 
 come when some word eternal would be remembered, 
 and that the day would be when the now uncared for les- 
 son might be cherished as the constant rule of life. Some 
 who “ came to scoff remained to pray.” The good pas- 
 tor’s continual entreaty caused them to grow weary of 
 that wretched indifference which oppressed them with 
 many sorrows. Bade to look up and not die, they learnt 
 to rejoice in the message that they were the sons of God. 
 And then the drunkard — we tell you of facts which we 
 know — began to despise himself, and was led like a child 
 by the voice of reason ; and he repented of his submission 
 to misery ; and, as he thought, he came unto himself and 
 the rending devils were cast forth from him. And he 
 who lived with a coarse company, whose daily communi- 
 cations were altogether evil, was led at last to hear this 
 reformer preach and to accept his doctrine, and in word 
 and life to prove himself not unworthy of it. And it is 
 this work of trying to save some, which we call a work of 
 progress towards good. A firm Christian means a good 
 citizen. And all true Missions strive to make good serv- 
 ants of the Divine Master’s service, who are devoted serv- 
 ants also of this world’s just powers that be. The main- 
 tenance of this Mission means the support of tried virtues, 
 whose value they who believe in no creed at all will admit 
 
20 
 
 in homes of desolation, where the worst of the vices are 
 held in notorious preference. The neglect of the work of 
 this Mission is the neglect of yourselves ; for, if you do 
 not have pity upon the poor, the time will come when 
 they will exact the uttermost farthing in the way of ven- 
 geance from you. Allow them to remain in uncared for 
 ignorance of the moral law, which even the unjust who 
 fear not God have some reverence for as a near protection 
 to themselves, and it will not be long before the time shall 
 come when you shall know what the works of darkness 
 are. Pass by on the other side, and the secret thief will 
 not pass by you ; for in the night he will break through 
 and steal. Forget the law of Charity, and many will for- 
 get the terror of the law of Force. Suffer sin to reign, 
 and do nothing but indulge in some cold rhetoric about 
 the increase of crime, and you will find that you are doing 
 everything that you can do to destroy all your future 
 means of safety. Cleave ye to this cause, for it is the 
 cause of that Truth that hateth a lie; and by a lie hath 
 the sin of mad rebellion often come. Pay the tax you 
 owe to God with a willing heart ; for it is the way to dis- 
 charge the debt whose perfect payment can make us free 
 indeed. Encourage the weak, or, when they fail, they shall 
 drag your souls also — halt in purpose — to the last misery 
 of a common death. 
 
 If there is woe upon us if we preach not the Gospel, do 
 you not think that there is also a woe upon you if you 
 will not be well content to do that Gospel’s work, which 
 is the work of love ? With what measure ye mete, it shall 
 be measured to you again. Shall One who hath loved us 
 have compassion on the multitude, who were so far re- 
 
21 
 
 moved from him by sin’s dividing gulf, and shall we 
 depart from them when they are our brethren in life and 
 death and an eternal future? It will not do for us to 
 stand apart. There is a sacred union formed by the will 
 of Him who dwells in heaven that cannot be broken. 
 And as we meet together — rich and poor — we ought to 
 work together. And that work is the work of Christ. 
 When we give to this cause, whose past record we so 
 well know, we do the work of Him who went about doing 
 good. For when the poor came to Him, he fed their souls 
 and bodies with the world’s food and heaven’s. Fie gave 
 to him that asked ; health to the sick ; the good sound 
 mind to him who sought in vain his banished reason 
 among dead men’s tombs ; peace to her who asked for 
 nothing and received every thing. And how can we who 
 name the name of Love not go and do likewise? Think 
 of what poverty in its simple suffering is, and lay the 
 mammon and the dust of the earth at your Saviour’s feet, 
 and by the alchemy of love you shall find it changed to 
 the celestial city’s gold. Ascend in love, in desire if not 
 in fact, the dark and narrow stairs of want, and prove that 
 there are some angels of mercy in the world ; that there 
 are some joyful to give indeed. Shall we hear the para- 
 ble of the Prodigal and have no wish to help his true 
 descendants, who are still with us, to find the house he 
 sought and the Father’s presence and the Feast that is 
 always ready? Shall we hear of one who fell among 
 thieves, and still continue to show no mercy to the sick 
 and wounded travellers who are now laid at our doors ? 
 Shall we be reminded of the rich man who cared not for 
 his brother who had need, and ourselves refuse to see that 
 
22 
 
 brother, but turn our hearts from him and evil entreat 
 him by our strange neglect? Bar to the door if you 
 will, and mercy will pass by and will not trouble you. 
 Say, “ charity begins at home,” and be all kind consider- 
 ation to yourself ; the poor who are always with you will 
 die, and you will know not of it now. Refuse to see what 
 we see — it is most easy — you live in a different world, 
 wherein is the resemblance between one and many — a 
 room for a home and a house for a home — a revenue of 
 some penny a day and income of some hundreds. Think 
 of the toil from morning until night in the work of the 
 dull, plodding labor that does not inform the heart ; of 
 those “ who walk on the Alpine paths of life, against driv- 
 ing misery, and through stormy sorrows, and over sharp 
 afflictions — walk with bare feet and naked breast, jaded, 
 mangled, and chilled of the evil infirmities of men — and 
 who can tell how often they fall by the way ? — and some- 
 times they are left for dead by their passion’s violence — 
 and sometimes it is want’s “ unconquerable bar” that has 
 led them to turn towards a path from which there is no 
 gate of exit to the honest road to another and better life. 
 Now brought into subjection to the law of circumstances, 
 they toil all the day long to receive the reward, the anx- 
 ious burden of a self-provided misery ; though without 
 riches, falling into temptation and a snare ; finding the 
 gate of heaven as the needle’s eye, though in the quick 
 thought of a minute they could take count of all they 
 possess. Think in love of the poverty of body and mind 
 of a great city — the vice most sensual and devilish, that is 
 as the presence of the miserable pestilence — whose woe is 
 the second death. We say, regard with honest sympathy 
 
the poor man’s day ; so that you may see the days of 
 heaven, which are days of sympathy and tender love. 
 
 And this work, which is “ all for love,” must be your 
 work. No common difference of opinion should turn our 
 hearts away from this good cause. Are we the advocates 
 of reason and not of faith ? Do we not still need to help 
 the work of these virtues which we know to be the friends 
 of every man, and the “ cheap defence of nations ?” Is 
 our creed the generous belief that “ good shall be the final 
 goal of ill ?” Then let us desire to aid and further the pres- 
 ent good of those whom we call our brethren. And if we 
 are the firm adherents of the letter and spirit of that sacred 
 Word, and believe the poor and homeless to be the Lord’s 
 disciples, then let us do His will and feed the souls of the 
 hungry overcome with infirmities. All ought to bid this 
 cause welcome. Who can have any prejudice against 
 this work of reform ? Who can think that there is enough 
 of virtue among men ? Who can feel in his heart that the 
 poor have no need of any kind friend who by word and 
 act can be their comforter ? 
 
 This is no romantic crusade of charity. Here is the 
 land of promise that we have known from our childhood ; 
 and when we tell you of an urgent need, the experiences 
 of every day confirm the painful fact. The poor we ask 
 you to help are daily very near and all around you, and 
 the history of our work is our best sermon. We ap- 
 peal to you in the name of Him whose life, whose death 
 was the work of charity for us, for a mission which we 
 trust has always been most dear unto you ; and we ask 
 for help with a firm confidence, because we know that 
 work is well worthy to meet the most searching scrutiny 
 
of any eye of friend or foe. As a general rule, large con- 
 gregations, both morning and evening, show the sincere 
 interest which our people themselves have learnt to take 
 in this work. Our Sunday and Parish schools, always 
 well attended, are proofs sufficient of the devotion and 
 intelligent energy of our Superintendent and our assist- 
 ant teachers. The many mothers who have every Wed- 
 nesday evening attended our Mothers’ meetings, afford 
 the best evidence that it is one of our favorite institutions. 
 Our communions have always been fairly attended ; our 
 alms wisely and carefully distributed. We are not bur- 
 dened with any fetters of unsettled debt. Our school and 
 chapel collections, if not very large, have been sufficient 
 for at least a portion of the weekly expenses. All our 
 sick who needed relief have been well provided for. 
 Whenever any case of real distress has called for our help, 
 we have been as liberal as our means would allow. In 
 brief, we have done all that we could do. And therefore, 
 in the calm trust that you will approve our work, we ask 
 you to come and help us, and when you help us, you help 
 yourselves in this work of charity ; for unto Christ ye do 
 it, and He can give you heaven. 
 
 Let the rich and poor meet together, for do not the one 
 need the other? And let them come and be as brethren, 
 for have they not One Lord, One Faith, One Baptism? 
 And let them love one another in the spirit honestly ; for 
 shall they not both sleep in the same kingdom of the grave 
 together? And let them be tender hearted, forgiving one 
 another ; for all must bear one cross, even the cross of the 
 poor in spirit ; and all who would have the treasure of 
 heaven, must humble themselves of this world’s proud 
 
2 5 
 
 spirit — whose foundation is dust and ashes. And all who 
 would come to Him, who was a poor man and a wanderer 
 in this his mortal kingdom, must be meek and lowly in 
 heart, counting it all joy to feed his lambs, to feed his 
 sheep. 
 
 4 
 
SERMON 
 
 BY THE 
 
 Rev. EDWARD H. KRANS, 
 
 RECTOR Or THE CHURCH OP THE GOOD SHEPHERD, 
 BOSTON. 
 
 PREACHED BY REQUEST AT ST. MARK’S MISSION CHAPEL, 
 SUNDAY MORNING, FEB. 27, 1870. 
 

SERMON. 
 
 “ Well done thou good and faithful servant; .... enter thou into 
 the joy of thy Lord.” — St. Matt. xxv. v. 21. 
 
 This, my brethren, is the language of approval ; nay, 
 of reward. You will recognize it as from the Parable of 
 the Talents. And yet it is not very much. The language 
 is very tame. The colors in which the object, wherewith 
 faithful and persevering toil is to be requited, are very 
 subdued ; not at all striking to the eye ; much less is there 
 anything about it to kindle the soul into action ; to fill it, 
 so to speak, with rapture ; to fire it with a high ambition. 
 It is not tangible either. It is not near. It is not to have 
 place in time, even. Very indefinite altogether. A sim- 
 ple, “ well done,” and a welcome entrance into a remote, 
 unfolded joy. 
 
 The world, at least, will not mock her servants, by of- 
 fering for their toilsome services a phantom, or a shadow 
 such as this. No. She will offer nothing but that she 
 can give, and in hand, too. She must go, therefore, else- 
 where than to the uninviting treasure-house of the Para- 
 ble of the Talents for her many prizes. And she does go 
 elsewhere. The whole earth she proudly claims as her store- 
 house in this respect. And she ransacks her every apart- 
 
3 ° 
 
 ment. She quarries into the mountain side for the richest 
 material, and summons the highest skill to fashion it for 
 her use, and commands the public hall, or the square, or 
 the city of the dead to hold it in solemn trust. She calls 
 the biographer to rehearse the worthy deeds of her de- 
 serving children ; and she bids the poet clothe them in 
 his immortal song. The orator stands ready, and at her 
 nod he ascends the rostrum, and exhausts the vocabulary, 
 that nothing may remain unsaid which shall tend to per- 
 petuate the memory of the departed. A universal press is 
 at hand to disseminate his fame to the distant parts. A net- 
 work of telegraph-wires catches up and speeds the story. 
 A nation, or a world, it may be, are willing to keep holi- 
 day, and contribute their united applause to make up a 
 fitting reward for the good and faithful servant, who has 
 toiled and borne and gone, leaving behind him “ foot- 
 prints on the sands of time.” Nay, she may call upon the 
 queen of her earth-encircling empire, and the chief of her 
 great republic, to send forth their grandest ocean war- 
 chariots to convoy in slow and solemn march across the 
 ocean -wave the dust of her sleeping son, and charge 
 their representatives to follow the bier all the way to the 
 tomb. The walls of her many temples are always ready 
 to receive the names of such as shall earn a place there. 
 
 Such, my brethren, as you know, are the rewards which 
 the world we so love offers, holds out to us, whose enemy 
 she so often is. 
 
 And I am neither here to disparage nor to censure 
 them. The rather, we may join her, so far as to commend, 
 and heartily, too, any one who lives and labors for the 
 advancement of what is high and noble and good, all 
 
3 1 
 
 which tends to the amelioration of our erring race, the 
 uplifting of it, in any degree, from the mire into which it 
 fell, and where so large a portion of it lies helpless and 
 almost hopeless this day ! 
 
 But, I am to say, while standing, as it were, over the 
 grave of my young friend, that all this is the world’s ap- 
 probation, after all ; is of the earth, earthly. I am to main- 
 tain (the chapter from which my text is taken compels 
 me to do it) that all this shall avail the subject as little as 
 the doleful wind that sighs around his tomb. I am to re- 
 mind you, Christian men and women, that the monument 
 is to moulder on the public square and in the burial en- 
 closure ; and that the hall-floor is to decay beneath it ; 
 and that the biographer’s carefully prepared narrative is 
 to be lost ; and that the poet’s song is to be unsung ; and 
 that the orator’s fine periods are to be unadmired, and his 
 rich praise forgotten ; and that the pens of writers are to 
 be laid aside ; and that the wheels of the press are to 
 cease to move ; and that empires and republics are to lie 
 down, side by side, in the dust ; and that the applause of 
 the multitude of men is some time to be no more heard 
 on earth ; and that the shining temples are to grow dim, 
 and finally fall, burying, amid their ruins, all that remained 
 of the bright rewards which, as I have said, call forth so 
 mftch devotion and attachment from the sons of men. I 
 am to say, that after all this change, decay, ruin, the sim- 
 ple, tame words of my text shall still abide, and point the 
 disciple of the cross on and beyond all change and deso- 
 lation to the great joy, of which so little is said, and of 
 which so little can adequately be said, even the joy of his 
 Lord. I am to claim, therefore, that this is the only re- 
 
3 2 
 
 ward worthy of the highest aim of soul-endowed man. I 
 need not recall to your fresh remembrance that this is all 
 the reward held out to the follower of Christ, as such — 
 the joy of his Lord, and this fully, only as seen through 
 temptations, at the end of a long path of watchfulness 
 and patient self-denial ; faint now, it may be, but growing 
 stronger, as he grows in grace and in nearness to Him, 
 brightening as it grows more distant, until when, in the 
 future, he shall meet Him face to face, it shall become 
 pure and perfect and full. 
 
 Here, then, we behold a great radical difference between 
 the rewards of this world and those of our beloved Lord. 
 The former are of the present ; dazzling, but fading as time 
 advances. The latter are future ; not impressively attrac- 
 tive now, but growing more so, as the years go by. The 
 one is, in short, manhood on the verge of old age, and 
 hastening to the grave. The other is healthy infancy, 
 advancing towards a vigorous and noble manhood, 
 to which no old age, no decrepitude, no death, is ap- 
 pointed. 
 
 If this, then, be granted, (and, if not, the controversy is 
 with Ho!y Scripture, and not with the preacher ;) how is 
 this “ well done ” to be earned, this joy to be secured ? 
 The author of the text gives a superlative answer to the 
 question. You remember it is from the Parable of the 
 Talents. And you are familiar with the evident exposi- 
 tion of the parable. It is awarded to the servant who, 
 devoting such gifts, whether of nature or of grace, as may 
 be lent him, to the service of his master or “ Lord,” as in the 
 parable, makes a faithful use of them. “ Christ is the Lord 
 the gifts are the talents, and a faithful use of them in His 
 
service, observe, the condition of the reward. Behold, 
 then, the sum of the matter ! 
 
 For this simple prize, my brethren, which the world 
 contemns, multitudes, of whom she was not worthy, have 
 been content to live, and to hope, and to die. Moses 
 aimed at naught higher than this. The pomp and trap- 
 pings of the world did not follow him to any monument- 
 capped tomb. “ So Moses, the servant of the Lord, died 
 there, in the land of Moab.” “ And no man knoweth of his 
 sepulchre to this day.” It satisfied Abraham and the pa- 
 triarchs ; David and Solomon. It was all to which the 
 tenants of the caves of the earth — I mean God’s prophets 
 — looked. This it was that lightened up Herod’s dun- 
 geon for the Baptist, as he awaited the execution of the 
 capricious sentence of the Jewish king, as we heard in the 
 second lesson for this morning.* It would have been a 
 wretched cell for one whose richest source of joy was a 
 birthday party assembled in a dancing hall, but was a 
 very comfortable halting- place for the weary pilgrim, 
 who, at length near his journey’s end, was almost in full 
 view of his home, where the joy of his Lord was to be 
 his own. And the whole apostolic band, the noble army 
 of martyrs and confessors, you know how they strug- 
 gled, each against temptations ; against Satan, in what- 
 ever form his opposition assumed ; against their own 
 weaknesses and sinful tendencies ; rejoicing still; and rejoic- 
 ing because of this joy, which some time they believed — 
 would that our faith in it were half so present and real — 
 should be full ; looking for no earthly reward, and going, 
 
 5 
 
 * Quinquagesima Sunday. 
 
« 
 
 34 
 
 yes, and their Lord with them, to whatever earthly end 
 was appointed them ; the rack, the block, or the cross. 
 
 And the same work, the same struggle goes on to-day. 
 The same path, in this respect, in which St. Paul and St. 
 John followed, and which has been trodden and worn by 
 an unbroken line of saints, comprising all ages and nations 
 and climes and degrees, is not grass grown now. With 
 all our boast of modern inventions, no new path to heaven 
 has been discovered. And, as I have said, the old one is 
 not abandoned. Look out upon it ! See the world-sick 
 and Saviour-loving train as they go. They are not turn- 
 ing aside to write their names upon the fleeting objects 
 along the pathway. They are not seeking the applause 
 of men. Behold ! how their attention is engrossed by 
 something which lies straight before them. Would you 
 know, oh ! vain and wordly man, what this is ? From the 
 text the answer comes — “ The joy of their Lord.” 
 
 From a humble treading of this path, to the fair Paradise 
 to which it leads, I humbly, but very hopefully believe, our 
 common Lord has summoned his servant, your late pastor 
 and servant for Christ’s sake, and my lamented friend. The 
 avenues to wealth and place- and honor were open before 
 him. The world’s prizes all glittered with their wonted 
 brightness. He might have contended, and successfully, 
 too, for them. He was a young boy, too, once, with a 
 boy’s aspirations, a boy’s ambition, a boy’s too bright an- 
 ticipations of the temporal future and his own mark in 
 and upon it. He saw these avenues thronged with his 
 equals in age ; these prizes grasped at, toiled for by those 
 who had been the companions of his boyish play-hours, 
 and the sharers of the more staid recreations of his youth. 
 
He had, thus, seen much ; there had been much, as there 
 is anywhere in our country, and always in this great city, 
 to tempt him to join the thick ranks of those who strive 
 for eminence in commerce, in medicine, or the law. But 
 this does not decide him. He knows the story connected 
 with Emmanuel’s name. He knew how the immaculate 
 Son of our great Father in heaven left throne, glory, Fa- 
 ther, all — behind Him, and came down, in the centuries 
 gone by, to ransom, by no less cost than His own preci- 
 ous blood, our guilty race. He knew His almost dying 
 wish, embodied in His injunction to His apostles : “ Go 
 ye, go ye, into all the world and preach the Gospel to 
 every creature.” He knew, as you know, my brethren, 
 how thousands, nay, entire tribes, nations, almost conti- 
 nents, are, notwithstanding this yearning wish, going, each 
 passing generation, to await the judgment, unwashed in 
 this sin-cleansing blood. He early felt, in short, that this 
 gift of salvation through faith in the atoning merits of the 
 Saviour’s blood, was the only true, real prize after ail, and 
 among all, for the soul-sick brothers and sisters of the hu- 
 man family ; and having made it his own, resolved to 
 offer himself as a humble instrument to the Master, to 
 be used by Him for securing this rich boon for others; 
 consecrating his life to the preaching of the Gospel to the 
 world. 
 
 But he who will advance the cause of true religion in 
 the nineteenth century, as, indeed, in all the centuries, 
 must be fitted, by a long and slow process, for the work. 
 The university curriculum must prepare the mind for 
 grappling with any subjects ; and to this must succeed 
 the quiet of the seminary life, where the future ambassa- 
 
dor may ponder and systematize the great truths of 
 theology ; and, interspersed with all, must be frequent 
 tarryings on the mount ; repeated ascents and descents 
 of the soul to and fro between its tabernacle of clay and 
 the great store-house of grace on high. So felt he whose 
 memory is very fresh here to-day, and so he acted. After 
 completing the course at our common Alma Mater , his 
 work of preparation did not flag. On he still toiled, and to 
 prepare himself the better for the work. Since his ordina- 
 tion to the ministry, all who have known him in this re- 
 gard, have found him ready to render freely and willingly 
 any assistance within his power ; whether in the chancel, 
 the pulpit, or elsewhere. At my asking, intimating, I 
 might rather say, he has gladly left whatever duty he 
 may have been engaged in, and gone with me to the sick- 
 beds of some of you, to consecrate the emblems of dying- 
 love, and administer that Holy Sacrament to your great 
 and endless comfort. And when, about to leave you for 
 another field of labor, I spoke to him with something of 
 earnestness of the interest which I felt in you, and my 
 anxiety to have some guide left behind me, better and 
 wiser than I had been, he seemed to make the interest all 
 his own, and I could feel when I said the last “good-bye,” 
 that you had a shepherd, and one who would feel a shep- 
 herd’s solicitude in you. 
 
 Of his short career since I am not to speak. Ye, breth- 
 ren, are the judges. It is for you to decide, so far as any 
 on earth may, whether or not he has read and preached 
 the gospel to you ; administered Christ’s sacraments ; 
 visited your sick ; buried your dead ; sympathized with 
 your sorrow -stricken ; done all according to the number 
 
37 
 
 of talents intrusted to him. None are better, none so 
 well able to judge of this as you. You can only judge 
 from what you saw. You do not know, of course, what 
 may have been all the longing of his heart. You are not 
 expected to be able to tell the number of soul -born peti- 
 tions which may have gone up from the silent chamber 
 for your welfare ; the earnest appeals for a greater bless- 
 ing upon your husbands and wives and children ; upon 
 your widows and orphans ; upon the officers and teach- 
 ers and little ones of the Sunday-school; upon every 
 department of this work, and every individual connected 
 with it. The record is kept in heaven ; it may never, 
 now, be known on earth. The tone of a letter, however, 
 lately received from him, and the topic and burden of 
 which was this work, as well as the longing aspirations 
 of his sick-bed, would lead me to believe that all this is 
 more than probable. 
 
 Nor am I to attempt an enumeration of his virtues. It 
 were common -place to speak of his warm affection for 
 the home circle ; his modest bearing towards all condi- 
 tions and classes alike of our poor humanity ; of his sim- 
 ple-mindedness, his utter absence of anything approach- 
 ing pride or human display. 
 
 And I feel sure you will not ask nor expect me to search 
 for faults either. Alas ! we are all too prone to this. Too 
 apt to wisely surmise, and to keenly suspect, and to gravely 
 doubt, and to unkindly criticise. But there is still charity 
 enough abroad to secure an amnesty for this when the 
 subject has passed beyond its power to affect or injure 
 him. A little more forbearance. It would be well, very 
 well for us, if we had a little more of that which St. Paul, 
 
38 
 
 as in the epistle for this day,* places above faith and hope. 
 Nor do the ministers of Christ escape their due share ot 
 this. Perhaps they deserve it, and I do not appear as 
 their apologist. It may be that their doubted integrity is 
 a mockery ; that their impugned sincerity is impure ; that 
 worldly inclinations and worldliness are rightly charged 
 upon them ; that their censured negligence calls for blame ; 
 that their lack of devotion to their work needs the spur 
 of harsh criticism. Grant all this ; that they are but man ; 
 weak and sinful. What then ? There is no merit in their 
 shortcomings or sins to atone for ours. And I appeal to 
 you, would it not be better, much better for all concerned, 
 if we could have a little more kindness, more willingness 
 to overlook than scrutinize defects ? No. His failings, 
 if any he had, we bury them deep down beneath the 
 burial sod, hoping for, looking for no resurrection day 
 for them. 
 
 But, my brethren, I turn from speaking of the dead, to 
 speak, as friend with friends, to the living. He is removed 
 out of the sphere of temptation and of trial. Delivered 
 from the bands of mortal flesh, his unbound spirit can no 
 longer be assailed by the great foes of man. We are still 
 among them. If they have not yet the mastery, 
 there is still time to gain it, as there is still time to re- 
 nounce it, if it be theirs. Do you not almost hear the 
 same voice which summoned him, speaking to us and say 
 ing: “ Hear, oh ! my people?” We cannot afford, my breth- 
 ren, to allow so evident an interposition of God’s provi- 
 dence to pass without a serious study of it, and a prayer- 
 ful effort to draw such lessons as we may from it. And 
 
 * 1 Cor. xiii. 
 
39 
 
 it has many such lessons for all ; family and friends ; old 
 and young ; stewards of Christ ; all in this congregation. 
 Standing on the table -land of a lusty manhood, between 
 the weaknesses of youth and those of age, where, hu- 
 manly speaking, he had the strongest hold of life which 
 man can have, and cut down here in a few short days ; 
 what a commentary is it not on the text : “ All flesh is 
 grass?” How may we not almost hear black-robed 
 Death exulting over his prize, and see him looking out 
 from his cheerless mask, with calm assurance, upon the 
 legion of appointed victims who will call for strokes much 
 less severe to lay them low ! If the ripened strength of 
 the son is so weak, what is the waning vitality of the 
 father? If young and sturdy manhood is thus blighted, 
 where is the security to tender womanhood ? If the 
 strong muscular frame of maturity cannot resist the 
 power of disease to crush it, what greater force can ten- 
 derer years oppose ? If the mad thunderbolts, dashing 
 through the air, shatter the oak, what of the lily ? And 
 if the shepherd is not secure, what of the flock ? In other 
 words, my brethren, if life borders on death, almost means 
 death, and is never for one momentabsolutely secure, where 
 is anything but insecurity for any of us ? “In the midst 
 of life we are in death.” So would the spirits of those 
 who, during any week, pass from life to death without a 
 moment’s warning ; so would the spirit of him we mourn, 
 if they could utter forth their voices to us this morning, 
 testify. Let us, then, realize more fully, in proportion as 
 the reality has been brought nearer us, the slender hold 
 any of us have upon this life to which we are wedded by 
 so strong ties of affection. 
 
4 ° 
 
 Some of you may remember an evening, it seems but a 
 few days since, as this scene recalls it — a Sunday even- 
 ing — when from this place I said what I thought might 
 possibly be the last words I should utter in your hearing. 
 I felt, as I may have mentioned, that the future looked all 
 dark and uncertain. It had never seemed quite so dark 
 before. But, I confess, it has proven more uncertain than 
 then it seemed. The solemn event which brings me 
 among you so soon again, I should have placed low down 
 in a long list of great uncertainties, i You would no doubt 
 have done the same. Of the group of five young men in 
 this chancel, of the congregation which filled this chapel 
 on that occasion, we should have said that he who called 
 down God’s benediction upon us was, as we count proba- 
 bilities, the most likely to live on to a mature old age. The 
 future! It is a great reality in itself; full of unenacted 
 events ; of joys and sorrows ; of blessings and of woes. 
 In its confines our future lives and homes are situated. 
 The Judgment Day is within its borders. It contains 
 eternity. It is a wonderful reality. And yet how unreal 
 to us ! We stalk through it blindfolded, in away, run- 
 ning against, here, an unexpected joy, and there an un- 
 looked for sorrow ; athwart a pitfall, when the footing 
 seems quite firm ; and so we grope on. The present, how- 
 ever, is ours. No power can wrest it from us. And let 
 wisdom’s voice, the voice of God, if you please so to call 
 it, sounding to us louder at this than other times, be heard 
 and heeded by us, and lead us to improve it. 
 
 My last words to you shall be upon a feature of this sad 
 event, which I am not willing to pass by. Why is it that 
 the young preacher of the gospel is stricken down when 
 
4 1 
 
 just prepared to utter his message ? Why does the 
 great Captain, who can ward off the missiles, allow His 
 soldiers to be wounded to the death before they have 
 scarce ever fought a battle ? It does look mysterious. 
 Such themes, you remember, perplexed, at times, the 
 Psalmist, and Scotia’s ingenuous bard, asked, almost in 
 despair at the news of the premature death of his patron : 
 “ Oh ! why has worth so short a date?” We might ask 
 why John the Baptist’s ministry was so abruptly closed, 
 after more than thirty years of self-abnegation and com- 
 munion with his Lord had fitted him for the work which 
 he performed so successfully, but for so short a time ? 
 Why was the Saviour’s ministry confined to the brief 
 space of less than four years? Or why was St. Stephen, 
 when the whole world lay in darkness — why was this 
 faithful and fearless proto -martyr so early cut off, when 
 fearless and faithful preachers were so much needed to con- 
 vert the nations far and nigh ? 
 
 Oh ! mysterious though it be, there is a Providence in 
 it, and the earlier Christians saw it, to some extent at 
 least, as we may. They saw that the blood of the mar- 
 tyrs was the seed of the Church ; that man can glorify 
 God by dying as well as living. We tread warily, as it 
 becomes us, on ground such as this. But, my brethren, 
 I am not to disguise my firm belief that one purpose of 
 God’s all -wise providence will be lost, if the effect be not 
 to bind you more closely together ; to lead you to love 
 more dearly than ever before the Saviour, who has not 
 thought it too much that one of His servants should lay 
 down a young and vigorous life in your midst, while en- 
 gaged, occupied , heart, mind and soul, in the work of secur- 
 6 
 
42 
 
 ing the eternal salvation of your own and children’s souls. 
 See in it, I entreat you, another, another evidence of His 
 love. Let it be another link to connect the thoughts and 
 affections of us all with the land beyond the grave. Let 
 us resolve, as we pronounce our final “ well done,” our 
 united requiescat over his ashes, and retire from the tomb, 
 that such shall be its effect upon us. 
 
 So may we see, it may be in this life, that “ all things 
 work together for good to those who love God so shall 
 we undoubtedly see in the brighter world, where, I pray 
 God, we may all once more meet, and hear from the lips 
 of Him who erst pronounced it, the last “ well done,” and 
 join again, may I not say, with raptures of holy joy, 
 friends and relatives who have departed in the faith, and 
 with them, as with the brother whose loss we now mourn, 
 enter fully into the promised joy of our Lord. 
 
43 
 
 Close of a sermon delivered by the Rev. WILLIAM F. Mor 
 GAN, D. D., Rector of St. Thomas Churchy at the Parish 
 Church , Sunday , Feb. 20, 1870. 
 
 “ Yesterday, toward evening, in the presence of a mourn- 
 ing congregation, and a family circle bowed beneath the 
 weight of a great affliction, I committed to the dust a 
 Brother in the ministry of Christ, to whom in his last 
 hour of life the whole meaning of the text might be 
 applied — he died in faith. I refer to the Rev. Henry 
 Duyckinck, a young clergyman of unusual culture and 
 promise, who was born and nurtured in this parish, and 
 for a time an assistant minister at our altar. He was in- 
 deed a faithful servant of the great Master, and chiefly 
 laboring among the poor, brought forth fruit with pa- 
 tience. Let me not open my lips, however, to praise 
 him, or to recount his many excellences, or to wound a 
 sacred grief by public mention of one who in life had no 
 aspiration after the notice or applause of the world. And 
 yet deny me not the privilege of thanking God, even 
 publicly if it seem good, when any of the old flock die in 
 faith ; when the religion which was nourished in other 
 years within our parish, sustains them on their dying pil- 
 lows. It is a joy to me. It should be a spur and encour- 
 agement to you, to rest as we may upon the assurance 
 that this young disciple and Priest has joined the innu- 
 merable company of the faithful dead, and that his name 
 is registered among the saints.” 
 
44 
 
 LETTER 
 
 FROM THE VESTRY OF ST. MARK’S. 
 
 New York, March 7, 1870. 
 
 To Mr. Evert A. Dqyckinck: 
 
 Dear Sir, — The undersigned, Vestrymen and Wardens 
 of St. Mark’s Church in the Bowerie, take this method of 
 expressing their sorrow at the loss that has recently be- 
 fallen you and their Church through the demise of your 
 son, Rev. Henry Duyckinck, late Rector of St. Mark’s 
 Chapel. Their sympathy with you is all the more pro- 
 found, because your bereavement is somewhat their own. 
 
 Although the term of the service of the deceased with 
 St. Mark’s Mission was very brief, it was nevertheless 
 sufficient to endear him to all with whom he came in con- 
 tact, and even those who knew him little, loved him well. 
 The record he has left behind him is so pure and unsullied ; 
 his loyalty to his Master’s work so sincere and unques- 
 tioned ; the manifestations of grief among his people, when 
 the tidings of his death became known, so profound and 
 impressive, demonstrating, in a very marked degree, the 
 strength and earnestness of his character and manner* that 
 we cannot doubt his memory will long be cherished with 
 the warmest respect and esteem. 
 
 For the loss we mutually mourn there is no consolation 
 save in a holy and undying faith, that having completed 
 his work here, our brother has gone to the reward prom- 
 ised hereafter. 
 
 We remain, dear sir, very truly, your friends, 
 
 HENRY B. RENWICK, 
 IRVING PARIS, 
 
 E. B. WESLEY, 
 
 P. C. SCHUYLER, 
 EDWARD OOTHOUT, 
 
 JAMES MORRIS, 
 JAMES PURDON, 
 
 WM. H. SCOTT, 
 GEORGE H. MORGAN, 
 WILLIAM REMSEN. 
 
45 
 
 At the regular meeting of the St. Luke’s Association of 
 Grace Parish in the city of New York, held Feb. 22, 1870, 
 information was given of the death of the Rev. Henry 
 Duyckinck. Very touching eulogies were made by Mr. 
 J. T. Harris and Mr. Wilson Small, after which a com- 
 mittee of four was appointed to draft resolutions of sor- 
 row, and present them at the next meeting. The follow- 
 ing preamble and resolutions were accordingly presented 
 by the committee and unanimously adopted : 
 
 Whereas, It has pleased God in the wise dispensation 
 of his providence, to cut off in the midst of his usefulness 
 our beloved friend and as sociate the Rev. Henry Duyck- 
 inck, who has been our assistant and counselor in our 
 work of the relief of the poor, sick and dying, ever ready 
 to give both his time and means at the call of the suffering 
 and afflicted, always showing his earnest zeal and devo- 
 tion to his Master’s work, therefore be it 
 
 Resolved, That the members of the St. Luke’s Asso- 
 ciation of Grace Parish, feel they have lost in his death one 
 of their most valued associates, one whose talents justly 
 fitted him for a more prominent position in the Church, but 
 whose innate modesty of character kept him from seeking 
 the high places of the earth, and led him to choose the 
 more Christlike duty of preaching to the poor; that 
 none who have been under his administrations in the 
 Church, and who have been associated with him in acts 
 of mercy, as we have been, but must feel that they have 
 
lost by his death a most valued friend and assistant, one 
 whose memory we shall ever cherish as an incentive to 
 increased devotion in our Master’s work. 
 
 Resolved, That we extend our heartfelt sympathy to 
 the family and friends of our deceased brother, whose 
 kindness of heart, gentleness of disposition, zeal and faith- 
 fulness in the cause of Christ, must have made his loss a 
 more than ordinary affliction. 
 
 Resolved, That in respect to his memory the above 
 Preamble and Resolutions be recorded in the books of 
 the Association, and a copy of the same be transmitted to 
 his family. 
 
 John I. Thomas, 
 Joseph T. Harris, 
 John Lobdell, 
 Wilson Small. 
 
 ' Committee. 
 
 WILSON SMALL, President. 
 F. LOCKWOOD, Secretary. 
 
47 
 
 THE REV. HENRY DUYCKINCK. 
 
 From, The Church Journal, March 9, 1870. 
 
 The simple notice in “ The Church Journal ” of February 
 23d, of a service commemorative of the late Rev. Henry 
 Duyckinck, to be held at St. Mark’s Church in the Bow- 
 ery, on Sunday evening, February 27th, called attention 
 to the last public manifestation of esteem and affection for 
 one whose many virtues and rare modesty will be remem- 
 bered very far hence. He was one of those faithful ser- 
 vants whose delight it Avas to minister to Christ’s poor 
 according to the Master’s injunctions, as doing it unto the 
 Lord, and whose blessed remembrance passes on to the 
 other shore. With no other aim than the Master’s work, 
 he spent the three years since his graduation at the Gen- 
 eral Seminary, mainly in the work of a missionary among 
 our city poor. No personal preferences could lead him 
 to relinquish this work, and no summer recreations ever 
 lured him from it. Loving the Saviour, he loved them 
 that were His, and like the great Exemplar, he loved 
 them to the end. He was stricken down at the close of 
 a day of labor among the people of St. Mark’s Mission, 
 where he had been placed in charge, and “departed hence 
 in the Lord ” but five days thereafter. His funerai was 
 attended at the parish church of St. Mark, on Saturday, 
 Feb. 19th, near the close of the day, the Revs. Wm. F. 
 Morgan, D. D., Samuel R. Johnson, D. D., and James P. 
 Franks officiating, and a large assembly of the members 
 of this parish, as also from the congregations of St. Bar- 
 nabas Mission, Grace Chapel, and the church of the Holy 
 Martyrs, where he had frequently ministered, testifying 
 
4 8 
 
 by their presence to their sense of deep bereavement. 
 Most abundant floral offerings betokened the loving re- 
 membrance of friends, and the soothing strains of Bishop 
 Ken’s “ Glory to Thee, my God, this night,” sung by the 
 choir of St. Mark’s, told of thankfulness for the good ex- 
 ample of His servant, when the night was fast coming on. 
 
 On the morning of Sunday, Feb. 27th, in St. Mark’s 
 Mission chapel, his funeral sermon was- preached by his 
 predecessor in that charge, the Rev. Mr. Krans of Bos- 
 ton, from the text “ Well done, thou good and faithful 
 servant.” The service in the parish church in the even- 
 ing was for the purpose of carrying on the work which 
 this devoted man had not been spared to finish. The last 
 sermon which he had written was a statement of the work 
 of his mission, and a plea for its importance. This ser- 
 mon, from the text, “The rich and the poor meet'togeth- 
 er,” he had purposed to deliver in St. Mark’s church on 
 the Sunday succeeding his fatal attack. He never re- 
 turned to his work, but his plea was presented on this 
 occasion, in his own written words, by the Rev. Henry 
 C. Potter, D. D., rector of Grace Church, who prefaced 
 the sermon with a short sketch of the life of its writer. 
 There were also present, and assisting in the services, the 
 Rev. Messrs. Franks, Krans, and W. M. Jones ; the mu- 
 sical parts, and the hymn “ Pilgrims of the Night,” from 
 “ Hymns Ancient and Modern,” being sung by the chil- 
 dren of the choir of St. Mark’s chapel. He fell at his 
 post of duty. Pretiosa , in conspectu Domini , mors sanc- 
 torum Ejns est. 
 
 W. M. J. 
 
 New York, March, 1, 1870.