YALE UNIVERSITY LIBRARY
3 9002
>i jmijp-ipjn w
Wise, S. S.
... A tribute ... to the
memory of Rev. Dr. Henry S.
Jacobs ...
IHew York, 1893]
JUDAIC* ■
McoSO
WT54--
893
Yale University Library
IN MEMORIAM.
1$mxx) Jacobs,
nj?oT npD
A TBIPUTE
or
^ffectiorj, (gratitude ar?d J^everegce
TO THE MEMORY OF
^KV. Pr. ^ERRY S. J^eORS,
SENIOR RABBI-PREACHER
OF
GO£J(2rPE(5£TJO]^ JESyUI^U^.
*
NEW YORK,
FROM
HIS JUNIOR-ASSOCIATE
FJev. STEP¥EI^ S. Wtse.
nj?D-i mpa
®trm TltitireaaBa
delivered by
REV. STEPHEN S. WISE,
I. SERMON PREACHED AT THE OBSEQUIES
of
gUxr. %znxi& ji. %atob$, g.g.,
SEPTEMBER 15, 1893.
II. ADDRESS, DELIVERED AT THE SERVICES
in commemoration
of
gtexr. gr. mxq M>. Sacofrs,
LATE SENIOR RABBI-PREACHER
of
CONGREGATION B'NAI JESHURUN,
held at
The Synagogue, Madison Avenue and 65th Street,
under the joint auspices of
JEWISH MINISTERS' ASSOCIATION
and
CONGREGATION BNAI JESHIJRUN,
SUNDAY, NOVEMBER 5, 1893.
PEDJG^TEP
£s a toller? of fpiepdslpip apd esteerg to ttje
offic.eps agd rgergbeps of tfje Ooggpegatiog
3'Qai Jestjupug, wfjose love of tl^etp
Pastop was tegdep agd true, agd
wpose soppow at f}is dergise
is sigcepe agd tpue,
by f?is
JUNIOR AND SUCCESSOR.
FUNERAL SERMON
PREACHED AT THE OBSEQUIES OF
Ken. 3x. Twenty Jacob#,
Senior Rabbi-Preacher of the Congregation
Bnai Jeshurun.
TIN I1? -ia I am grievously distressed—
broken-hearted, because of thee, my brother.
^ Dear, very dear, hast thou been to me.
Rosh Hashonoh, I was seated at thy side, deriving
strength, encouragement and inspiration from thy
presence, from thy friendly, friendship pledging
countenance. A few hours have elapsed, forsooth,
hours of bitter uncertainty, and then, alas, of unre¬
lieved anguish, and now I stand before thee, perform¬
ing a last, necessary, heart-wrung service.
TP'"7^ How hast thou grieved me!
What ties of mutual love and confidence bound
us together! And I shall sever them! And with my
parting greeting of "Fare thee well," I shall terminate
all' My heart rebels, my tongue is dumb, my lips are
sealed. A common sorrow is revealed in their petition
for a respite, in their entreaty for a few moments of
preparation for this unthinkably severe ordeal. The
voice of a sterner, higher duty bids me grant it, the
duty of telling of thy well-lived life, the duty of offer¬
ing comfort to thy numberless friends, here assembled
about thy loved, prostrate form. Amen,
6
When the great warrior, Abner, fell at the hands
of Joab, the avenger, the kingly bard, David, broke
forth in the following lamentation: *■)£' "O
Sinco nin ovri Sdj bra "Know ye not that
a prince and a great man has fallen to-day in Israel?"
And with these words, I greet you, my friends, who
have hastened to be present on this sad occasion,
when Henry S. Jacobs, "this nobleman, this knightly
prince in Israel," has been borne into the synagogue
to take a final leave from this House of God, and
to consummate a temporary separation from its
Supreme inhabitant, whose truest servant he has ever
been. Yea, Sirica run orn ha: bra nc "a
prince and a great man has fallen this day in Israel."
The sun has sunk beneath the horizon, the sky is
o'ercast. the heavens and the earth are enshadowed.
Weep, Oh mothers, weep! Mourn, Oh fathers, mourn^
with a grief-stricken mother, prostrate in agony
and in suffering, weeping, as only a mother can weep,
mourning and sorrowing as only a parent can sorrow,
and mourn, a mother moaning piteously, giving'vent
to heartpiercing cries of despair, a mother bearing all
the outward signs of a weighty affliction, evidently
stricken by a heavenly visitation. Ask not why she
weeps! Does not thy human heart inform thee? Does
not thy keen instinct prompt thee? What alone can
grieve a mother, causing the tears, the tears of the
heart's crimson blood, to flow? What disaster alone
overwhelms a mother's soul? What calamity alone
unnerves, bends wounds and terrifies a mother's
spirit? What agony alone ravages a mother's heart?
7
What affliction alone tenders a mother blind to hopeful
visions, deaf to quickening words of consolation
insensible to all but the burden of her misery and the
magnitude of her trials?
And'well may she weep, for Jeremiah, the prophet of
desolation, has told us on the second Rosh Hashonoh
day, the day of visitation in Israel, 'i~l ("13
by HDDs Vrn onnon "on to yarn rrcro
utn 13 nun by Drur6 hjnd "o nba
"Thus saith the L,ord, a voice was heard in Ramah,
lamentation and bitter weeping, Rachel, your mother
and my mother, the common loving mother of Israel,
weeping for her child, a favorite son, because he is not
— refusing to be comforted for him because he is not,
because he is not at her side, because he has been torn
from her midst."
Verily, a glittering star sank at the very dawn of a
new day and of a new year! A crown has fallen from
the head of this regal sage—PTlIn ITD- An urn of
incense has slipped from the hands of this revered
High Priest, nJHD *D- A sceptre has eluded the
grasp of this Israelitish king, anointed by the grace of
God nWD "1HD and all have dissolved in a crown
studded with gems of incomparable radiance and
glory, a diadem far surpassing all earthly treasures
the crown of a good name that now
encircles his brow, a halo of godliness, illuminating
and beautifying the story of his life.- And we stand
at his bier, forsaken and disconsolate, helpless and
hopeless; but my appointed duty remains thus far un-
8
performed. I must heal your aching hearts and cheer
your despondent feelings.
On the first day of Rosh Hashonoh, Henry S. Jacobs,
that pious, learned and courageous servant of God.
entered into the fiftieth year of his ministerial activ¬
ity, fulfilling thereby a command of the holy Book of
Books: ow jd# nritatf V2& -p msdi
'And thou shalt number unto thee
seven Sabbaths of years, seven yeais seven times," in
all forty nine years. Yea, forty-nine years had been
completed, during which this shepherd tended and
pastured the flock of Israel, during which time every
nerve and fibre of his majestic frame had been
strained to the uttermost, in his heroic efforts to lead
Israel with him in the Godly and the God-liked paths
of truth and righteousness, during which time his
best mental and moral energies had been unceasingly
spent in assiduously watching, guarding, nurturing
and stimulating Israel's spiritual growth and develop¬
ment. And thus, with the passing away of the old
year, and the ushering in of a new, Henry S. Jacobs
stepped unto, nay more, crossed the threshold of a
joyous year for jubilee, for it is written :
coS rrnn ruE> D^onn roc ton rci1
"A jubilee year shall this, the fiftieth year, be unto
you." On that festive anniversary day, he yet stood
in our midst, animating us to a purer worship and
truer love of God. The Biblical injunction, pertain¬
ing to the inaugural ceremonies had been obeyed:
. .nynn new msyni
9
"And thou shalt cause the sound of the Shophar to
be heard." He 'had heard its thundering tone, to
him, pregnant with a message other than of forgive
ness for past sins and shortcomings, or a prayer whose
burden was confession^ and whese keynote, repen¬
tance and reparation. Its mighty blast,
r6fu njppn
symbolized for him as he stood in the Shadow of
Death, the approach of that state whose advent is
expressly heralded and indicated.
V-1K3 liTl
"Thou shalt proclaim freedom in the land." He
was soon to be freed from earthly fetters and released
from human limitations. Its dying echoes still
lingered and vibrated in the chambers of his memory,
when but a few moments later, the benediction, he
was devoutly uttering, found a response in the seraph-
born music of God's call.
Again were heard D,"OE>, the broken tones of
what proved to lie the saddest of tidings, the token of
a mournful message, breaking the bonds which
united a faithful husband with the tenderest, truest,
best of wives, rending the chain whose links consisted
of a noble father and loving, devoted children, and
finally there was heard the t°ne> which
caused you, his well-beloved flock, his affectionate
children, you, the Congregation B'nai Jeshurun, to
quake and tremble in astonishment and dismay, and
with you a whole city of s> mpathizing and suffering
friends. Ye are appalled at the thought, the tongue
IO
which has spoken so many soothing- words of sym¬
pathy and commiseration, so many kindly sentiments
of rejoicement and congratulation, shall now be
hushed. The eve, whose gaze betrayed an all-
embracing love, an unlimited tolerance, a universal
benevolence, shall cease to reflect the sunshine of a
boundless hope and an undying faith. The hand of
warm and hearty grasp, oft bearing a blessing in its
palm, shall now be stiff and lifeless; that magnificent
appearance shall fade away; that kingly figure shall
forever disappear. Who can restrain a tear? Who
suppress a sob? Who avoid a sigh? Who check a
moan? And, yet, with the same breath wherein the
seer depicted Mother Israel struck low by the force of
the blow, the Divinely decreed separation had dealt
her, we hear him utter gladsome tidings, we hear him
dispel the gloomy clouds with the penetrating rays
of a bright and cheering message. We hear him
prophesy the intervention of Godly grace:
rwro ■yjpjn >330 IJUD 'n ion A3
33c> '3
"Thus saith the L,ord, Refrain thy voice from
weeping and thine eyes from tears, for thy virtue
shalll be rewarded." Wherein consisteth his reward?
ntsm inr\Bm erwi imnK Drm'i
"And ye shall return, every man unto his posses¬
sion, and ye shall return, every man unto his family."
He has inherited a possession, is soon to occupy a
final resting place. He has returned to his family,
II
the family of heavenly saints, to add the lustre of his
well-deserved fame to the galaxy of glittering stars.
Thus his perishable remains will be transferred to
their allotted dwelling-place, there to be bedded
in the loving arms of mother-earth and pillowed in
the fond caress of kindred dust. What is there left
unto us? Nothing, nothing but an undying memory,
nothing but an inextinguishable love. Everything is
denied us, but not the privilege of holding the name
Henry S. Jacobs in ever-fragrant remembrance.
Naught is vouchsafed us—only the opportunity of
here reviewing the catalogue of his innumerable and
beneficent activities. Of all have we been de¬
prived—only not the possibility of emulating that
pre-eminently meritorious and unblemished career.
Henry S. Jacobs was favored by God and man.
"None knew him but to love him,
None named him but to praise."
The gracious heavens appointed him a friend and
comforter of humanity. Providence annointed him to
his sacred trust with the oil of virtue and of goodness.
God pressed the seal of His noble mission upon that
brow. In the pursuit of his Godly vocation, he
served not alone in the palaces of the rich, his voice
did not only re-echo in the halls of the mighty. His
unselfish, self-sacrificing heart led him to the homes
of the poverty-stricken ; his unwearied, never-weary¬
ing limbs bore him to the hearths of the lowly.
Wherever unhappiness abode, he sought to banish
and exclude the dread guest with his loftier and
greater presence Above the wailing of the stricken,
12
his sweet silvery voice was heard, as he endeavored
to instil the balm of comfort into a bruised heart.
Thousands had he led to the grave, as many had "he
consoled in their bereavement. The feeble and the
sick seemed to gain strength from a mere contempla¬
tion of his erect, buoyant personality. He loved your
children and was idolized by their pure, motiveless
hearts. He upheld your faith with a vigor and con¬
sistence, seldom or never witnessed. He battled for
your religion with the weapons of an unswerving
belief and an unshaken trust. His cause was a worthy
one; he was worthy of his cause. Various were his
offices in their nature and in the traits of character
they called into display—alike were they, he performed
them all well, willingly, faithfully, conscientiously
and successfully. He has wept with you! He has
rejoiced with you! He has admonished you! He has,
applauded you! He has corrected you! He has praised
you! He has taught you! He has exhorted you! When
was Henry S. Jacobs ever at fault? What work of his
can be accounted imperfect? What has he left undone?
Perfect and without blemish was his life! You, an
assembled host, stand in the very presence of God and
testify to the faultless fulfilment of his life-task. Your
tears are the witnesses, which will accompany him on
his journey to the Throne of Judgment. Your unfeigned
sorrow will plead for him unto the Supreme Judge of
Judges. Your heartfelt grief implies an appreciation
of all he has accomplished in the past, and foresha¬
dows an undiminished reverence for his memory in
i3
the future. You stand alone as orphans, for you have
lost a father and a friend. He is gone who has guided
your steps during eighteen years, and you begin to
realize your loss. Henry S. Jacobs, your friend and
my associate, your teacher and my master, your rabbi
and my leader, is gone from our midst, and gone for¬
ever. Momentarily gifted with a supernatural vision,
I behold your naked hearts. Indelibly inscribed I
read upon them a common reflection, a spontaneous
pledge:
"We loved him living—we love him dead."
Henry S. Jacobs, hear my vow! I will seek to
perpetuate thy life by living it over again. I shall
ftalfil the hopes which thou expressed, when, in this
synagogue, thou didst lay thy hands upon my head in
blessing, and didst implore favor and grace for the
holy work, I was then about to assume. From thy
celestial abode, mayest thou look down upon us. May
thy sweet and sad spirit whisper to every one of us
who loved you! "My work is not at an end! My
guidance is but from afar. I but labor in a vaster
field, in the eternal, endless regions of God's estate."
I need not, I will not say "farewell." I expressed
my wishes and uttered all my greetings unto you on
Rosh Hashonoh, when your eyes were still unclouded,
your ear not deaf, your tongue not mute. In life, I
hopefully cried unto thee,
TjBJ? DTlStf
"God be with thee." In death, I humbly pray, ''May
God be with thee, as thou hast ever been with and
for God."
ADDRESS
DELIVERED AT THE EXERCISES IN COMMEMORATION OF
Reo. IfEtirij Jatobs, 3.3.
Had I consulted my own feelings and yielded to my
own wishes this day, I would have remained closeted
in my study, communing with my thoughts and
dwelling in the memory of scenes, now brought viv¬
idly before me—scenes in which your late lamented
pastor and friend, Henry S. Jacobs, and I were both
participants; he, however, then as now, far in my ad¬
vance. Nay more, I could have justified and defended
my silence, by citing the tale of the illustrious mourn¬
er Job, unto whom there appeared three friends, in
pursuit of the divine office of consolation, and our
sacred Scriptures relate.
"IJSD 3*on THJ 13 wi '3131 inn p&o
"And they spake never a word unto Job, for they
perceived that his sorrow was very great."
And I, thinking, seeking to fulfil the same lofty
task may well and truly exclaim with the Talmudic
Sage: ON "6 INI "IDN ON 1 blN
"Woe uuto me, if I speak: Woe unto me, if I do
not speak." Woe unto me, that I must speak at this
hour and with this intent. Woe were with me, should
I not speak, for I must forget my sorrow in the at¬
tempt to alleviate your grief. Woe unto me, that I
must reiterate the mournful message, my lips hardly
16
dare express, "Henry S. Jacobs is dead:" Woe were
with me, should I not speak, should I not tell you
once again, "Henry S. Jacobs has lived." Like him,
however, and guided by his noble example, I here
tremblingly respond to duty's call and undertake to
address you.
History repeats itself, too often, reviews the sad
lessons of the past in the bitter experience of the
present. The Pall that ever darkens the brightness
of human joy and the light of earthly hope, oft shad¬
ows with its folds, even a whole people with tears.
Man was made to mourn and the music of his life,
the symphony of his soul finds its fitting harmonies
only in the chords of grief and of mystery.
A forest falls amid its fellows ; one barely observes
the loss or notes its absence, but when the tall stately
elm, that has, for generations, graced the open plain,
is felled to the ground, then the passer by feels that
an old landmark has been removed and is filled with
sadness ana with sorrow. Death's ministration is
universal. Men and women, of every age and stage
of life, fail as the ripened leaves of the autumn, but
the people are only partially touched. My friends,
almost within the last few days, however, a truly
great man has fallen in our midst, "A prince has
fallen on the heights of the battlefield." The lofty
Cedar lieth low, and the forest of Lebanon laments.
And therefore this sorrow, and therefore this woe.
We have obeyed the injunction of the Seer Hosea,
nrirn -r UNBTI mc: Nin -o b raicoi rfr
"Come an diet us return unto the Lord and unto His
17
House, for He hath torn us." May his other promise
of prophetic expression be realized : "He hath torn
us, but He will heal us. He hath smitten us and
He will bind us up." Amen.
Gloomy, sombre and desolate is this hour, the hour
which finds us assembled within the abode of God,
and a purely unselfish motive, an undeniably exalted
sentiment has inspired this vast gathering. We have
collected within the sanctuary, not to voice individual
prayers unto the giver of every good and perfect gift,
not to implore Heavenly favor for those we love, not
to supplicate Divine blessing upon ourselves, but to
attest the fervor and sincerity of the friendship we
bore Henry S. Jacobs, to evince the mutual afifection,
which bound shepherd and flock, to avow the alleg¬
iance of the martial hosts, he has forsaken, to pledge
our eternal fidelity to the cause he led, to renew our
vows of faith and trust in his and our Supreme
Commander, to humbly, yet confidently stamp the
seal of human approval, of brotherly recognition, of
reverent praise upon a book of life, whose last chapter
concludes and culminates in this, our final act.
Unto the altar, whither he had borne the sacrifice of
his years, his strength, his wisdom, his piety, his
courage, his mentality, his life, we would with cheer¬
less mien and quivering frame, bear the offering of a
deserved, a sacred and tender tribute to his sainted
memory.
Verily our mortal master has disappeared from our
limited gaze,Din?** inN Hp? VD UJW But only our
human leader has departed and has separated himself
from us, for
r8
l-nw w onto Drpro
we were united by the ties of love and friendship, and
not even death can rend us twain.
Standing then, as I am at the pulpit, whence the
silvery tones of his Heaven-inspired doctrine were
ever fondly welcomed by you, viewing the seat which
his gracious presence long adorned, that seat, thrice
endeared to me, since his weary frame rose therefrom
to consecrate my youthful services to the sublime
cause, which he could plead fervently and eloquently,
as few beside him, I feel the awe-inspiring vicinage
of his eternal spirit, and hear anew the mystic counsel
of the Tanaite, uttered on his death-bed to his favorite
pupil, KTO pniVP*nDDPD CrriK- Be friendly,
and fraternal in your eulogy of me unto the people,
for my spirit shall hover over you. And may his great
and true spirit have lingered and further guard o'er
this scene, a fountain-head of light and benediction,
a source of truth and holiness.
Our Rabbis remark: nay D^iCD cronD nvbv
nunn .cidi pnx nco n i5a
pi uy p DT by unu mmo
Three great and good leaders of virtue and of merit
arose unto Israel, Moses, Aaron and Miriam. To the
merit of Moses is ascribed the fall of manna from the
skies, that sustained the children of Israel, on their
journey through the wilderness unto Palestine. As a
reward of Aaron's priestly labors, the pillar of
cloud was visible by day and the pillar of fire by
night. Because of the nobility of her character
and the saintliness of her deeds, Miriam the Pro-
19
phetess of Israel, won and assured for her people,
whithersoever they wandered, a spring of pure
and sparkling waters, that ever refreshed and invig¬
orated, strengthened and kept alive. Each member
of this illustrious family toiled in a certain field; all
three labored patiently, industriously and wisely and
all reaped a full and rich harvest, a bountiful, a glor¬
ious harvest, not alone of temporary advantage to the
reapers thereof, but of enduring and increasing value
to succeeding generations, which plucked a richer and
a riper fruit. Together they idealized the three
loftiest of undertakings, through successful accom¬
plishment and beneficent result, furnishing an
insight for admiring descendants into the manner and
means of performing God pleasing works, and offering
practical illustration of the truth, later embodied by
Rabbi Simon the Just in the maxim:
;yi mmn by -raiy nbiyn cmm nsybsy by
■cncn rfrDj byi n-rayn 1 'By virtue of three
things the world exists, the Raw, the Temple
Service and Deeds of Charity."
The Rabbi in Israel, in order to fitly and faithfully
serve his Rord and his cause, must combine within
himself the power to exert a far reaching influence in
the spreading of nHH the Raw, and, through it, the
dissemination of all knowledge,—in the encourage¬
ment of nTcy the Divine Worship and thereby
inspiring a love and reverence of the creed,—in the
practice of JJHpn deeds of charity and there¬
from originating a broader and truer humanity.
20
Henry S. Jacobs fulfilled this ideal—aye manifested
the possibility of its realization.
Torah, the teaching of the Law is the fundament of
of the world in that it constitutes the prime and essen¬
tial bond of unity between God and man. The Torah
is the burden of Israel1 s message, is the cardinal
and inspiring principle of Israel's faith. To teacK
this Law, to preach it, to expound it. to transmit it
to observe it, to revere it, to cherish it, to enforce it,
is the duty of the Rabbi in Israel. Let him fulfil it,
too, and his words become □r6 Heaven¬
ly bread, life-giving and life-sustaining. From the
ever pure, chaste lips of Henry S. Jacobs, there rained
forth the godly manna of holy teaching and sacred
precept, the manna which oft saved the spiritually
hungry members of Israel from dire starvation, the
manna which fell for rich and poor alike, the manna
which descended in unvarying abundance in. the
period of prosperity and in the era of adversity, the
manna that nourished many an impoverished, faith
less soul back to a state of vigorous and unfaltering
belief, the manna that oft proved a rock of refuge, a
tower of safety, a key to salvation, the manna that
poured forth as the favored stream of celestial goodli-
uess and blessing.
Friends, vast and weighty was this task. It was
not all sufficient for him of indomitable, energy and
incomparable perseverance. He was not only the
preacher and the prophet, but also the priest, the
high priest, Aaron. Like Aaron, too,
"He loved peace, he sought peace, he
21
pursued peace." Herein he combined Pllln with
rT"QI? learning with service, therein he revealed the
excellence of knowledge, when practically utilized.
the Temple worship signifies, too, every
service rendered in behalf of God and His children.
Then his life was one of ceaseless service and perpetual
striving. His activity was unending and untiring.
A cruel and pitiless task-master unto himself, he knew
no relief from duty. His thoughts bv day and his
dreams by night, he dedicated, or better sacrificed to
the furtherance of his aim. In times of joy and glad¬
ness, it was his priestly precept and Aarouic example,
that amid the bright and radiant light of the day,
appeared, a shadowy, obscuring pillar of cloud,
the signal which warned the sunshine-
bathed hosts against vanity, pride and exaltation.
In the dark nights of trial and disaster, the grandeur
of his trust the majesty of his faith loomed up "VlOy
as a pillar of fire, illuminating the darkened and
desolate by-ways of despair and hopelessness, with
the beneficent rays of strengthened trust and re estab¬
lished hope.
There was a third, predominant trait of his character^
the gentlest and noblest of all, typified by the well of
gushing waters, procured for the children of Israel
through the merit of Miriam. Q'HDn Charity
sweetest and tenderest of virtues, found worthy repre¬
sentation in his character. His hand was ever
extended when the needy called and in all ventures,
looking to the uplifting of his struggling fellow-men,
his heart gave ready response. From the recesses of
22
his generous, noble heart, a well issued,
D^n CD CIpD a fountain of living waters, that
quenched the thirst of the needy, that soothed the
fevered brow of the suffering, that extinguished- the
raging fires of want and poverty.
His life,from its beginning to its ending, was one of
expression of matchless beauty. Monument he needs
not, for, during his sojourn on earth, he has shaped,
chiselled and polished a monument that will far out¬
live the granite and stand erect, like a shaft of pure
gold, pointing heavenwards, consisting of the
spiritual food, PVlIn which once offered and spread
out before his people, will never cease to nourish
and sustain Efc Haj>, the fiery pillar of inspira¬
tion and comfort niiy which he had planned
and erected, will never be obliterated or destroyed,
the fountain of goodly and godly charity n rea
□nOn. which, gushing from the boundless depths of
his goodness and tolerance, will never be exhausted.
Tennyson's call unto his peerless friend, I re-echo
unto thee:
"I would the great world grew like thee,
Who grewest not alone in power
And knowledge, but by year and hour
In reverence and in charity.''
Henry S. Jacobs sleeps his last sleep. His earth,
labor is done. Men and women, this is a solemn hour,
when every eye is turned to the picturesque cemetery,
where he has been laid to rest, who was our dear
brother, our devoted father, our faithful friend. Let
us, in our feelings, journey to his grave, and there, on
23
bended knee, like Hannibal at the shrine of Carthage^
vow to perpetuate the same spirit, that moved the
heart of this great man in his sacred and successful
ministry. Where shall we seek, where find his grave
however. Surely, that insignificant earthen mound
does not enclose his living, throbbing heart, can not
contain the multitude of his aspirations, cannot im¬
prison his sturdy and unfailing hopes, can not fetter
the winged desires of his soaring soul. He must be
sought, not in the abode of death, darkness and desol.
ation, but in the home of life, light and creation.
Here, in the synagogue wherein he lived and wherein
he toiled, here at the shrine, whither he hoped and
prayed, here at the pulpit, whence he inspired and
enthused, Henry S. Jacobs is to be sought and found.
In that spot, where his towering frame was wont
to be sunk in heartfelt prayer and true devotion, be.
hold his imperial figure lost in the holiest of medita¬
tions. Who would dare gainsay him this revered
retreat? Who would dispel or disturb his holy shadow?
In this pulpit he was ever living and ever active
and this pulpit will ever be living and active in attest¬
ing his praise and asserting his worth. From this day
forward, it becomes the shrine of the spiritual legacy
he has bequeathed us, the venerated shrine of his
piety, of his virtue, of his sanctity. On the coming
Sabbath-day, through strange coincidence, the last
wish I offered unto thee in life, on the New Year's
Day, rmy nrw tea ?pj? dtPn. "God be
with thee in all thou doest;" and the last benediction
I pronounced over thee in death? " May God be with
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thee, as thou hast ever been with and for God,"
recurs as a mighty thousand-tongued everlasting
testimony to thy life-work. 'H ,-pn 13 IfrO
We have surely seen that God was with thee."
We bid thee farewell in the words: TjnSEu
"We part from thee in peace/' Our Heaven ascending
elegy be, 'n -ypQ nnj? nm
"Thou art the blessed of the Lord."