_Autumn—The Fading Leaf—Fruit in Old Age—His Later
Labors—Present Home._
“We all do fade as a leaf,” was the lamentation of an ancient prophet in
a melancholy mood. The fading leaf speaks in sad but beautiful language
of waning vitality. It is the harbinger of autumn, telling us that nature
is getting ready to close her books for the season. It brings with it a
tinge of sadness mingled with sweetness; for there is compensation in
even the saddest experiences. What would the year be without the pensive
days of autumn? They are the golden fringes of the bounteous summer
season. Sad, indeed, would they be if the summer has been ill spent. Then
might the melancholy wail arise from the forlorn heart, “The harvest is
past, the summer is ended.”
But when autumn looks back upon a springtime of bountiful seed-sowing,
and a summer of bountiful reaping, it becomes the year’s climax of joy,
the beneficiary of all its blessings. Enriched by the summer’s heritage,
it is beautiful and peaceful and happy.
“We all do fade as a leaf.” May it be said philosophically. The fading of
the leaf reveals more perfectly its innate qualities, and rounds out its
brief existence. The red or brown or yellow, in mute language, tells its
life history and closes the book.
It is said of the aged, sometimes, “They are set in their ways.” That is
because in them character has become a finished product. The incidentals
and accidentals have become eliminated, and the accumulated results of
years of striving and hoping, sorrow and pain, defeats and victories are
plainly discernible. Personal traits stand out in bold relief so that all
may fittingly say, “Behold the man.”
Thus, Uncle Jack—for we may now use this affectionate designation, having
passed his three score and ten, is now in the autumnal glory of a life
beautiful and bountiful in its fruitage. And so the autumn of his life is
enriched and made fragrant by the year’s benedictions. Blessed, indeed,
is he to whom it is given to enjoy a long period of service, and who can
then gracefully let his mantle pass to others whom God has called and
prepared to receive it. To grow old sweetly, to let the sun go down amid
the splendors of an unclouded evening sky, is the crowning glory of old
age.
Blessed, indeed, then, is Uncle Jack. He approaches this period in life,
not only in the spirit of a true philosopher, but in the spirit of a true
Christian. He still lives in the sunshine, he keeps the windows open
to the breezes that bring to him the fragrance of flowers, the song of
birds, and the “music of the spheres.” The world smiles upon him and he
returns its smile.
He has lived in an active, changing age, but has always kept up with the
procession. He performed a vital part in the changing order in which he
lived and moved and had his being; and he who helps to fashion events,
who has a part in directing the movements of progress, is not likely to
be left behind or to be trampled under foot. He not only kept pace with
the world, but with a prophet’s vision, he anticipated the course of
human events. So, as great changes approached, he was ready to march out
to meet them. Like a true prophet, he had a message for his own day and
generation, but the message was more potent because he had a vision of
things yet to be.
In him is illustrated the Psalmist’s observation concerning the children
of God, “They shall bring forth fruit in old age.” For him there is
no “dead line.” The body may lose its agility; it may fail to do the
bidding of the mind properly, but the mind and heart remain abreast of
the times. The dead line means more than physical infirmity, and it often
occurs that the mind lingers near that dread spot while the body is in
its prime. The dead line belongs to the mind and not to the body, and
hence, taking that view of it, there is no dead line for Uncle Jack.
It is given to but few men to continue in the public ministry until they
pass their three score and ten. Uncle Jack had never been out of the
active connection in some form from the time he entered the ministry
until his seventy-third year, giving more than a half-century of unbroken
service to the public work of the Church.
In the interest of accuracy and completeness, more specific mention
should be made of his later work. After spending eleven years as
presiding elder in Tennessee Conference, he returned North for a
time, serving as pastor at Veedersburg, Indiana, as college pastor at
Westfield, Illinois, as pastor at Olney, Illinois, and three years
as presiding elder in Upper Wabash Conference. His work as pastor at
Veedersburg included two periods, one of three years’, and the other
of four years’ duration. This was one of the wealthiest and most
influential churches in Upper Wabash Conference.
Returning to Tennessee—now East Tennessee—Conference, he was again
elected to the presiding eldership, serving five years in that relation.
Altogether he spent twenty-one years in the Tennessee Conference, serving
five years in the pastorate besides sixteen years in the presiding
elder’s office.
His last work in the pastorate was at Clarinda, Iowa, being called from
there to the field agency for Indiana Central University at Indianapolis
by the trustees of that institution. He has always been interested in the
educational work of the Church. In his varied experience in religious
work he has seen demonstrated in so many ways the need of an educated
ministry. So he entered upon this latter work with a deep conviction of
its importance, and with the earnestness and zeal which characterized his
labors all through life; but finding his physical strength insufficient
for its taxing demands, he was compelled to relinquish it.
In the fall of 1910 he again attended the East Tennessee Conference
session, desiring only to enjoy its fellowship. He had no thought of
assuming again an active relation in the conference, but his brethren
were loath to let him escape. When the election of presiding elder was
called, their minds once more centered upon him, and he lacked but four
votes of being the unanimous choice of the conference. This, however,
brought him to face a delicate matter which set a task for his tender
conscience. Seeing that his election meant the crowding of a worthy young
man out of an appointment, he very generously resigned the office with
instructions to the Bishop that this young man be given the place.
His present home is at Odon, Indiana. Here he finds himself among
sympathetic friends, and is near the scenes of his early childhood.
He takes pleasure in doing what he can in the local church, setting a
wholesome example to the membership by his faithful attendance at all
the services and by loyal and liberal support of all its interests. Here
he enjoys the hearty good will of old and young alike, and has frequent
calls for addresses at various functions, where he is always greeted with
unfeigned delight.
While not employed in a regular way by the Church, an appreciative
public will continue to recognize his worth, and keep ajar the door of
opportunity for rendering valuable service to his fellow men.