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Memorial of the Rev. Henry
G. Comingo, D.D., pastor o
I
MEMORIAL ( apr 20 lew
OF TUE
REV. HENRY G. COMINGO, D. D.,
PASTOR OF THE
FIRST PRESBYTERIAN CHURCH,
STEUBENVILLE, OHIO.
CONTAINING
HIS TWENTY-FIFTH ANNIVERSARY DISCOURSE,
PROCEEDINGS OF THE ANNIVERSARY MEETING,
HIS TWO SERMONS, DELIVERED NOVEMBER 24th,
FUNERAL DISCOURSE, BY Rev. DR. C. C. BEATTY.
PUBLISHED AT THE REQUEST OF THE CHURCH.
STEUBENVILLE :
PRINTED AT THE HERALD OFFICE.
1862.
ANNIVERSARY DISCOURSE:
PREACHED BY THE
REVEREND HENRY G. COMINGO, D. D^
NOVEMBER 17th, 1861,
TwentyrFive Years after his Entrance on his Ministry
AT STEUBEN^YILLE, OHIO.
mttiMrfitw
HENRY G. COMINGO,
Boaw
Near Harrodsburg, Kentucky,
FEBRUARY 2nd, 1809,
At Centre College, Danville, Ky.,
JULY, 1832.
XLaiooxxsool to r»r©«.ola.
By the Presbytery of New Brunswick, N. J.
FEBRUARY 3rd, 1836.
In First Presbyterian Church, Steubenville, 0.
NOVEMBER 18th, 1836.
Orola.lxiL©ol 3E»«-stor
By the Presbytery of Steubenville,
MAY 24th, 1837.
DECEMBER 1st, 1861.
ANNIVERSARY DISCOURSE.
I remember the days of old, I meditate on all Thy works j I muse on the work of Thy
Hands. — Psalm 143: v. 5.
One much given to solemn reflection, has said with striking
emphasis : —
" 'Tis greatly wise to talk with our past hours,
And ask Ihem what report they bore to Heaven."
Israel was commanded to "remember all the way in which the
Lord their God had led them." Even a slight acquaintance with
the mental habits of the Psalmist will show that he found both a
favorite and profitable study, in the records of the past. Hear
some of the many utterances of the inspired Lyrist : "I have
considered the days of old, the years of ancient times ; I call to
remembrance, my song in the night." "I will remember the
years of the right hand of the Most High. I will remember the
works of the Lord: surely I will remember Thy wonders of old."
We cannot beiieve that it will be displeasing to our Divine
Sovereign, for us to occupy our attention with the suggestive and
instructive retrospect of the times, and seasons given to us for our
profit, now closed to us, and irretrieveably drifted beyond the
bourne of Time. Hence, it is reasonable and proper, that on this
special occasion, when we attempt to cast back our vision upon
the way which the Lord has led us, fur a quarter of a century, that
first of all we lift up our hearts and voices to "the Father of
Lights, from whom cometh every good and perfect gift," in fer-
vent thanksgiving, and here raise our Ebenezer, inscribing
upon it those memerable words of faith and prayer, "Hitherto
hath the Lord helped us."
Standing in the peculiar position, in which we are placed this
day, it makes a world-wide difference whether we look upon the
quarter of a century, just now completed, or upon the same num-
ber of years this day begun. The former is the well explored
country, all surveyed, and mapped, and open to the gaze of every
beholder. The latter is the virgin continent, just looming up in the
hazy distance, in sight of the discoverer. The former has written
out its chronology, its discoveries, its biographic and historic
sketches, and wholly withdrawn the veil from the once hidden
epoch, unequalled in interest in any similar past period of the
Christian era. The latter stands ready to begin, to-morrow, to turn
0
prophecy into historj ; and by a gradual, unremitting process,
will bring to light the stupendous events, for which all the world
waits with impatient expectation, and to inaugurate great provi-
dential developments, that shall thrill and startle the rising gen-
eration. The one is now the plain, practical, matter-of-fact lesson
book. The other is the volume of brilliant speculations, all ra-
diant with the bright day dreams, and fancy sketches of the good
time coming, to engross the lovers of fiction, and render them
oblivious of the safe and profitable teaching of the past. Impet-
uous as we are in our attempts to grasp the events of the future,
we, after all our labored efforts, cannot tell what a day will bring
forth. But even with the imperfect record before us, of the past
quarter of a century, we may recur to those days of old, and
gravely ponder their revelations and teachings, and rise from the
lesson better fitted to take our bearings upon the untried waste of
waters still ebbing and flowing in life's unresting ocean.
This day twenty-five years ago I first entered this pulpit, ac-
companied by the Rev. Elisha McCurdy, a venerable patriarch,
whose name stands intimately associated with the great revivals,
by which our church was much enlarged and strengthened, at the
beginning of the present century. I then preached on the doctrine
of justification by faith, from the text "Therefore being justified by
faith we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ." Rom.
5: 1. On the third day of the preceding February I had been licensed
to preach the Gospel by the Presbytery of New Brunswick, N. J.;
and when about to leave the Seminary the succeeding autumn,
Dr. Miller informed me that my old friend, E. T. McLain, — who
had been preaching here — had been compelled to leave, on ac-
count of ill health, and he would suggest that I should take this
place on my way to Kentucky, and spend a Sabbath or two here,
if this congregation should still remain without a supply. It was
understood that the severe illness of Dr. Beatty would render it
impossible for him to resume his pastoral care, over this Church.
I had finished my course in the Seminary, and felt anxious to
know whether and where the Lord had work for me to do, in his
vineyard. I had prayed for Divine direction. IJaving been
brought up in a slave State, and having witnessed the difficulties
of maintaining ministerial fidelity in such a community, I had
asked, with humbleness and submission, that God would grant
me a field not cumbered with the embarrassments which I so
much dreaded.
When I arrived at Pittsburgh, becoming impatient to reach
home, and feeling a delicacy in offering myself to so large and
important a Church, I wrote to David Hoge, a prominent elder,,
and mentioned the promise I had made to Dr. Miller, to call and
preach here, provided the way was open ; saying at the same time,,
that I would consider the promise as fulfilled, if the pulpit were
occupied, and I would then feel at liberty to hasten homeward.
To this he replied "that they had no one to preach the next Sab-
bath, and it was the wish of the session that I should stop and
preach one day." I preached two days, expecting to start homo
the ensuing day, when, the river being filled with ice, I gave up
my purpose, and accepted an invitation to supply the pulpit dur-
ing the winter. In the month of February a call was made out,,
and put into my hands at the meeting of the Presbytery next en-
suing, which, (after previously conferring with my friends, and.
asking the Lord to interpose some obstacle if it were not His will,,
or for His glory, that I should undertake to fill this important
and responsible post,) I finally accepted.
In relation to this, I find the following entry in an old journal,,
never designed to see the light, but which places you in posses-
sion of the state of my mind at the time the call was submitted ::
" February 15th, 1837. This day, by the Grace of God, J have been permitted to set
apart for fasting and prayer. On the last Monday, the congregation of this town met and-
unanimously elected me their Pastor. For this I feel grateful, and see no reason why I
may not accept ; but in so important a matter I felt bound in a special manner to consult
the Will of the Lord ; therefore, this the first and grand object I have presented before
His Throne, pleading that if obstacles or reasons should exist why I should not here abide,,
the Lord would show them to me, and lead me to the place in which He would have me
to labor."
One other brief extract I may here note, as it seems to fall in
with the history of my settlement over this Church :
"May 24th, 1837. This has been one of the most solemn periods of my life— the day
of my ordination and installation over the Presbyterian Church of Steubenville. Doctor'
Be.atty presided. Mr. McArthur, the Pastor of the Church in Cadiz — now a saint in glory
— preached from these words : " I beseech you, brethren, that ye receive not the grace of
God in vain." Dr. Smith, then President of Franklin College, (now Pastor in Gneensburg,
Pa.,) gave the charges. The exercises were solemn. I felt as though I could shrink away,
and refuse to labor ; I felt in a deeper, and more solemn manner than ever before, "Who
is sufficient for these things ;" the vast import of the work, and my need of everything
from God to enable me to discharge the sacred and responsible duties laid upon me. I
commonly find comfort in the belief that the Great Shepherd called me here. He has en-
joined these solemn, duties upon me, surely He will be with me to the end of life."
I venture to present these glimpses of the train of outward pro-
vidences, and of the inner workings of my own heart in bringing
about my location here, as the Pastor of this Church. I deem it
proper to glance back at my surroundings in this town when I
landed here, an inexperienced stranger, for the first time in my
life setting my foot upon Ohio soil. Then the streets were with-
out gas-light; here, and there, a dim oil lamp served to make
darkness visible. Our Churches, also, had a few faint lamps that
gave the speaker the outlines of human forms before him, but lit-
tle more could be seen of the congregation at the evening service.
Then, a large class of persons were engaged in hauling water
from the river for the supply of seven thousand people — that
being about the population at that period. Then there was no
railroad within many miles of this place; the stage-coach and the
steamer were the main public carriers, and with these modes of
travel the public seemed quite contented. The mails were carried
in coaches, making the ordinary time of transit twelve hours, from
this to Pittsburgh. Though Prof. Henrvhad made some remark-
able experiments with electro-magnetism, the thought of bringing
Pittsburgh within one minute of this City, and of sending mes-
sengers from New York to the Pacific border that could outrun
the chariot of the sun, had not yet found a place even in the im-
aginations of men.
Then, a large and beautiful section of our present City, lying
north of Dock street, was chiefly an open field, and a convenient
pasture ground.
The Churches then existing were : — one Methodist Episcopal
Church, worshipping in a building of the form of a T, holding
about five hundred persons, and standing on the site where we
see the capacious and elegant Kramer Chapel. St. Paul's Epis-
copal Church then stood as you now see it, with the exception
that it has been considerably enlarged, and decorated since that
time. Dr. Morse was at that time Rector of that Church, — and
here I may say that he is the only Minister left of all that were
then in charge of the Churches in this city. On the lot upon
Fifth street, now occupied by the 1st United Presbyterian Church,
6tood a small brick building, perhaps thirty feet wide, and forty
long, where the Rev. Mr. Buchanan had ministered for a number
of years. That structure since disappeared, and was re-produced
on Church street, in the form of a dwelling house, where, per-
haps, the present tenants lie down and rise up, not knowing that
the brick walls around them were for a score of years and more,
vocal with the teachings and prayers of that faithful and zealous
pastor, who finished a long and useful life in our midst, and whose
dust this day slumbers in the home of our dead. That Church
was supplanted by a much larger, but rather unsightly building.
which has recentlj been changed into the tasteful and beautiful
audience chamber, now occupied by the ministrations of the Rev.
J. K. Andrews. On Fifth street, south of Market, stood the
Methodist Protestant Church — a low, one-story brick building —
which, perhaps, held about four hundred persons. The Rev. Mr.
Elliott was the Minister then in charge ; he was literary and spec-
ulative, much devoted in his studies, to the then popular subject
of phrenology ; an eloquent speaker, and much esteemed and ad-
mired in this community. That building has been happily dis-
placed by the new and handsome Church, now so acceptably filled
by the Rev. Mr. Abbott.
In this general glance at the Churches of this City, it remains
that we notice the two new congregations formed since that time.
The first was formed from this Church in the year 1838, first
known as the Free, and now as the Second Presbyterian Church,
under the pastoral care of the Rev. Mr. Patterson. Its Pastors
have been the following estimable and beloved brethren : the
Rev. Joseph H. Chambers — since called to bis reward, the Rev. Dr.
Beatty, the Rev. ¥m. P. Breed, now of Philadelphia, and the' Rev.
Henry B. Chapin, uow of Trenton, 1ST. J. The Church building was
furnished to that people through the munificence of my predecessor
in the pastorate of this Church, the Rev. Dr. Beatty. A score of
years has brought that Church through many difficulties, up to a
maturity of stature and strength, greatly gratifying to the large
number of faithful members who long have labored and prayed
for its success and prosperity. The other new Church is the
Hamline Chapel; that large edifice was opened January, 1847, on
North Fourth street. Its communion has done good service to
the cause of religion, containing now 170 members.
But we turn back to our own Church edifice. It had a high
pulpit, approached by two spiral stairways, and shut up by two
doors, which quite effectually concealed the minister, when seated,
from all persons in the body of the Church. Its position was
sixteen feet in front of the spot on which I now stand. 'The win-
dows on the south side had some broken Venetian blinds, and
some other contrivances to keep the sun-light from glaring too
vividly in the eyes of the worshippers. The walls were white;
the galleries unfinished. The Church was heated by two
small stoves, standing under the gallery, some twenty feet from
the aisle doors. This house was enlarged in 1850, and has since
B
10
been decorated and improved so as to meet the demands of the
congregation, wont to assemble here to worship God.
But now Ave turn rather to the interior history of this congrega-
tion, during the period under review; and meditate on the works
of God's hands, and muse on His dealings with us.
This Church has been organized about sixty years, and has en-
joyed the ministrations of the Rev. Mr. Snodgrass, the Rev. ¥m.
McMillan, the Rev. Obadiah Jennings, D. D., the Rev. Dr. Beatty,
and the Rev. E. T. McLain.
On entering upon my pastoral duties here, I found everything
well ordered, and the congregation well trained, under the thir-
teen years of the faithful pastorate of Dr. Beatty. Here I labored
for many months without seeing any results of my ministry. At
last I saw two persons appear before the Session, asking for ad-
mission to the Church. I shall never forget the impressions then
made upon my mind. ]STow, I thought, I saw evidence that it was
the will of God to own the instrumentality of my poor ministra-
tions to save the souls of men. The question whether the Great
Master would own my labors then met a hopeful solution. I well
remember, that I felt solicitous to be the instrument of leading
one soul to Jesus, and often thought that would more than ten
thousand times compensate me for life-long toil in the work of
the ministry. Here I will further remark, that many who have
been added to this Church, during my pastorate, were evidently
brought to embrace the Gospel through the ministrations of
others. God's faithfulness to this branch of His planting, has
been gratefully marked. Human agency, by whomsoever exerted,
has been nothing in comparison with the efficient workings of
God's Providence, His Word and Spirit in continuing and pros-
pering this portion of His heritage.
The retrospect shows that in the past quarter of a century of
marked vicissitudes, we have passed through seasons of great dark-
ness, when general declension brought upon us the hidings of our
Father's face ; when open apostacy caused bitter griefs to many
hearts ; when the necessary exercise of discipline seemed to stir
up the angry passions of those whom the Session desired to ben-
efit, and reclaim by the use of this holy ordinance of God. Many
such dark days, long and painful winters passed over us; and of-
ten, the question, has been asked at the Throne of Grace, and of
one another, "is mercy clear gone forever?"
Yet we here bear witness to an important fact, that generally.
11
after the painful work of discipline had been carried out, we were
permitted to Bee tokens of Divine favor, in the deeper awakening
of Christians, and the conviction and conversion of souls. Those
days of heaviness and sorrow fled away; those nights of weeping
were followed by seasons of refreshing and merciful visitation.
This fact in general we might infer from what we behold this
day; that after the numerous removals, dismissals and deaths ; af-
ter nearly oue hundred members have been dismissed to our sis-
ter Church, in this city : and, on the other hand, a considerable
number as the nucleus of the Cross Creek Church, there are at
this time about seventy members more than there were a quarter
of a century since.
Shortly anterior to that period, there had been two glorious re-
vivals. The one in 1831, which brought in from the world seven-
ty-nine members ; the other in 1835, which added on a single
■communion occasion, fifty-three on examination. These refresh-
ing seasons have ever afforded to my mind, and heart, the most
cheering evidence, that in this congregation, God has had his
.hidden ones who did much by their prayers and supplications, in
producing some of these blessed results which we have, from time
to time witnessed, with tearful interest. We cannot now attempt
to estimate the measure of gracious influences of the Holy Spirit
which have sustained his people here against so many adverse in-
fluences. Great and marvellous have been His acts of kindness
toward us in this respect, for which it behoves us to magnify and
bless His Holy name. But in the tangible effects of His grace
upon those who were straying far from God, in open rebellion,
we may find cause this day gratefully to testify the wonders of
His love. I cannot embody in words all that we witnessed in
1838; but our history records that fifty-five in that year came out
from the world and confessed Christ, in this place. The ensuing
year, forty-nine, in this presence, took up their cross to follow
Christ, and came with you to the table of the Lord. The next
year, fifty-five. For several following years, no signal manifesta-
tions of the Spirit of God were witnessed, yet small numbers
were added to the Church every year, till 1855, when we saw, at
one communion, twenty taking their seats, for the first time, at
the table of the Lord. A time of much declension and dark-
ness followed. The hearts of God's people were greatly discour-
aged, and many seemed ready to faint under the adversity of our
beloved Church. With health broken, wandering for months in
a foreign land, disheartened and scarcely hoping to Bee my native
country again, or resume my ministerial Labors, in the beginning
of 1856 I|sent my resignation to the Session, in order that they
might present it to the congregation. This, they in great kind-
and patience, declined to accept. In the course of that year,
as most here-, present will remember, I resumed my labors, but
with much doubt and misgiving.
The year 1858 ushered in a glorious revival, in which we were
favored with the earnest, and profitable ministrations of the belov-
ed McKeunan, who has but lately gone to his blessed reward.
That year we saw seventy-live new witnesses for Christ joyfully
singing,
" People of the living God," <tc.
We glance over the statistics of our past history with trembling
emotion, 1307 members have been here enrolled in sixty years.
The portion of that large number who have entered the church
in the past quarter of a century is 805. Of these, 508 were added
on examination, 297 on certificate. I cannot deny that in these
results I find cause for profound thanksgiving to Almighty God,
that he has owned such a sinner, such a poor, faithless, unbeliev-
ing laborer in his vineyard, and permitted him to see his life and
labors connected in the most remote manner with such results.
Far, far, is it from my heart to indulge in self-gratulation, or,
vanity. How wondrous the grace that can make clay to open the
eyes of the blind ! Oh ! how unspeakably more wonderful that
He should link his own mighty workings wTith one less than the
least of all His servants, and point to hundreds brought from
darkness to light by the most imperfect ministrations. If these
labors had been what they ought to have been, what they might
have been, how far, far different the effects for the good of men,
and the glory of God. More than this : I cannot but think with
painful solicitude of my pastorate over this multitude. How often
when the flock should have been fed have they been sent empty
away. How often when I should have won wayward sinners by
lifting up the cross, they have gone on in their downward course
because Christ was so obscurely set forth. I confess I cannot think
of the revelations of the last day without profound awe.
It may be that very many of those received on examination,
entered the church with a false hope (alas ! what mournful evi-
dence in the lives of some) because they were not faithfully taught
and directed in their religious decisions, because in our anxiety
18
to sec thein relieved, and enrolled as christians, we cried, "peace,
peace, when there was ao peace/1 and so Left them for Long years to
grope their way in ruinous darkness, and delusion.
But even if no such unhappy consequences may have followed
our labors during the quarter of a century just past, yet the appa-
rent sum of these for this long period, reaches but the measure of
success allowed at Shotts, to a young licentiate from one single
discourse.
I will not delay this discussion to remark upon the $100,000*
that in the time named have gone out from this congregation, for
the interests of religion, through the various channels of benevo-
lence, yet perhaps not one half of the members of the church,
have habitually contributed to these objects, and those who did
rarely reached, or, even approximated the measure of their ob-
ligations. We may well rejoice to think of the happy effects that
must follow the multitudinous agencies for good that have thus
been called into operation ; but how many must ultimately mourn
that they had received their Lord's money and buried it in a
napkin.
Here, we may glance at some of the pleasant things we call to
remembrance. We may begin with the many acts of christian
kindness and generosity experienced from individuals, and the
congregation. How much these things have lightened the bur-
dens we have been called to bear !
There have been seasons when scores of the impenitent have
been awakened, and with tearful interest have said to the session,
" Men, and, brethren, what shall we do to be saved ?" Though
we had long mourned that there was no dew upon the moun-
tains of Gilboa, and, that " the shields of the mighty were vilely
cast away," "few came to our solemn feasts," and "the love of
many waxed cold," venerable elders, who have now gone to their
"crown of rejoicing" stood here imploring Almighty God, with
cries and tears, " that He would not cast us away from His pres-
ence, nor take His Holy Spirit from us, that he would not aban-
don his heritage to reproach, but temper the wind to the shorn
lamb, and speedily return and revive his work with power;"
when these prayers were answered and many found the wisdom
and power of God unto salvation ; we saw with rejoicing and
awe the tokens of the Divine Presence. In such seasons, we say,
This includes the large testamentary gifts of Mr. and Mrs. Hans Wilson.
14
our joy was greatly modified, and, abated by the overwhelming
sense of responsibility, the fear of misguiding those asking instruc-
tion and, direction, and of grieving and dishonoring the Holy
Ghost. Yet even with all these abating causes, the turning of
immortal souls to Christ for salvation, affords the pastor's heart
the highest joy, he is permitted to realize on earth.
It is pleasant also to look back and see a half score, or, more
going forth from our ranks, to preach the gospel with success and
power at home and abroad.
It is also pleasant to the pastor's heart to see the membership
that once were with us, going to different and, distant points of
our country, and becoming efficient laborers in planting and sus-
taining other churches.
It is pleasant to learn incidents, relating to the fruits resulting
from personal efforts, or public ministrations, with transient per-
sons, with whom perhaps there was scarcely a personal acquaint-
ance. I can best express my meaning by stating two brief facts :
In a boarding house on Market street, long since displaced, I
called to see a sick man. I was kept waiting in a back parlor in
which sat a stranger, apparently in delicate health. After a par-
ley with my cowardly unbelieving heart, I ventured to speak to
him " of the Saviour as the Great Physician, whose restorative
prescriptions received by the soul, would render all the diseases
of the body powerless to harm. However apparently fatal, they '
would be real blessings." Time passed on : I had forgotten the
interview, till I received from that stranger on his dying bed, in
a distant part of our country, a kind'message, informing me that
he was dying in the triumphs of faith, and that his thoughts
were first turned to the great Redeemer by the few words inci-
dentally spoken to him in that back parlor. Not long since, in a
Convention held in a neighboring city a minister introduced,
himself to me, saying, "I perceive you do not know me, but I
have reason to remember you, for in 1844 I was attending your
church, a thoughtless youth ; and then and there, I wras first led
to the feet of that Saviour, whom I now preach to others." The
emotions thus produced are most pleasing ; but at the same time,
and in the same breath the words of the Psalmist were uttered
in my heart, " Not unto us, O Lord, not unto us, but unto Thy
name give glory.' The instrument, the man, is a sinner; the
power, the increase, is all of grace divine.
It is a pleasant remembrance, to see in the past, many
15
instances where God has owned our offices in the house of
mourning, for the comfort and encouragement of the afflicted and
dying, and permitted us to witness the triumphs of grace in expi-
ring believers, and bow down with weeping circles at the throne
of grace, and implore the sympathy, and the sustaining', and heal-
ing power of the Man of Sorrows.
But as night, and day, clouds, and sunshine, winter, and sum-
mer alternate in the natural world, even so in the pastor's expe-
rience, there are sad and mournful memories alternating with
the seasons of pleasing interest, and agreeable incidents..
Though no schism, or, division, ever, has taken place in
the congregation, no alienation or, party strifes in the Ses-
sion ; but on the contrary great harmony of feeling, and unity
of counsel have prevailed ; yet at times there have been separa-
tions and unchristian hostilities among brethren, that cost
many an unavailing effort for reconciliation, and in wounding the
Church, were deeply wounding to the Pastor's heart, but the all-
controling Hand of the Chief Shepherd, found times, and ways
for the removal of these evils not in the reach of man's wisdom.
This day I verily believe this congregation is freer from all those
petty and painful heart-burnings, and strifes, than at any time of
the twenty-five years gone by.
Another mournful fact this day called to remembrance is that
we have received members into the Church writh joy and hope,
who ran wrell for a time, but subsequently fell away into criminal
neglect and open apostacy. The trial of such occurrences comes
with the most distressing effect upon a Pastor's spirit, who had
comforted his soul writh the hope that his labors were divinely
blest, and, his prayers answered, in their conversion to God. The
thought of the terrible doom the unhappy apostate brings upon
himself is a heart-rending' theme for a Pastor's meditations.
I have seen the young man awakened, and inquiring the wray
of salvation, and I have knelt with him in earnest prayer for his
conversion ; but he went away, and grieved the Spirit, and, hard-
ened his heart; and I have been called to his bedside years after-
wards when his melancholy condition of hopeless impenitence fil-
led me with sorrow. I sawT him sinking, and, death approaching,
and at the intervals when reason resumed its throne, I sought to
point him to Christ, but in another moment he would again break
out in wild incoherent ravings, and 30 he passed away, per-
16
haps bis very last words that fell upon his Pastor's ear were such
as I pray God I may never hear again.
I have also been made to mourn when in the chamber of sick-
ness I have witnessed what seemed to be a turning to God for par-
don, and, salvation ; the prayers, and hopes, and eestacies of the
sufferers, as they appeared to approach the grave, made
many to rejoice, but alas! how often have we mourned to
see such when recovered, and again engrossed in life's
busy pursuits or pleasures, as utterly hardened and careless, and
negligent of. their souls, as ever before. Such experiences have
made us tremble at the final issues in the case of those who have
departed to the judgment bar with nothing but a death-bed repen-
tance, to afford us any hope of their salvation.
I have seen the young man of fortune, and, family; amiable in
deportment, attractive and lovely in his person, and fascinating in
his manners, but the fatal cup turned him away from the precepts
of piety inculcated by pious parents, and friends ; from
the Church of God, and the Cross of Christ and precipitated
him into a premature grave. I will not say how often these
mournful occurrences have been substantially repeated within the
quarter of a century past ; I well may say they have infused into
the cup of my sadness many a bitter ingredient.
Again, — It has often been the duty of the Session to employ the
discipline of the Church in some cases with the most salutary and
happ}' results, but in many other cases discipline has signally
failed, to reclaim and restore, the erring, and the straying mem-
ber, and others arraying themselves against the authorities of the
Church, have greatly pained, and distressed us by their untoward
course. But over such memories we wish to draw a veil, seeing
that an All-wise and All-constraining Providence has made the
wrath of man to praise Him, and the remainder He has restrained.
The only other class of mournful remembrances we name re-
lates to the partings with many removing out of our midst, who
had long been co-laborer8 ; again, and, again it seemed as though
we should be broken up for the want of their aid, and co-opera-
tion; after all we saw our fears were groundless.
But how often have we been called to weep with those who
weep in the house of mourning. It actually startles me now when
I walk certain streets and can scarcely find a house into which I
have not been called, when the significant badges at the threshold
told of lamentation within, because the King of terrors had been
17
there. I now caunot tell how many hundreds of the members of
this Church, I have visited in sickness and death, and, followed
to the grave. I find upon the first three pages of the catalogue of
Church members, put in my hands when I became your Pastor,
nearly three scores have gone down from these familiar pews to
their enduring homes in "the house appointed for all living." Of
the four deacons who stood recorded in that catalogue, none re-
mains in the board, and only two are yet living. Of the elder-
ship, six in number, just one half are this day in the Church tri-
umphant, and one half in the Church militant. Nearly twenty
years ago James G. Hening removed to Missouri and there died.
He was an eminently pious man of blessed memory; his walks
were amid the dwellings of the poor, and the habitations of sor-
row and affliction ; he was full of Christian sympathy, and kind-
ness ; fervent in prayer, faithful in duty, and known, and loved
by all the people. In the year 1847 David Hoge, and Jeremiah
Hallock were taken from us to their rest, and reward in Heaven.
Both were revered and beloved in their office as Elders, and in
their characters as citizens, universally esteemed. The former,
diffident, retiring, profoundly pious, eminently accomplished in
literature, an able theologian, a warm friend, a faithful counsellor,
and, a Christian gentleman ; his memory is this day embalmed in
the hearts of many who knew him, and yet survive him. The
latter, the sage, reticent Hallock who was originally designed by
his father, and, educated for the ministry ; and when he preferred
the law, and left his New England home for the West, received
that father's last greetings in these words, "Jeremiah, as you
have failed yourself to be a minister, I charge you now that you
shall ever be the minister's friend." I may safely say of that good
man now fallen asleep in Jesus, that he never forgot nor neglected
his father's injunction. These good men and, true are all gone,
sorrowful to us, was the day of their departure, for to us they
seemed as "the chariots of Israel, and the horsemen thereof;" we
trembled for the ark when such counsellors, and intercessors were
removed> But our apprehensions were without foundation, it is
the Lord, and not man who keeps and defends His blood-bought
church. They who were so long with us in our trials, and, con-
flicts, as well as in times of refreshing to-day are,
" — saints above,, how great their joyg.
How bright their glories be. "
As we well know,
C
18
'• Once they were mourning here below;
And wet their couch with tears;
They wrestled hard as wo do now,
With sine and doubts and feara.
We ask them whence their victory came ?
They with united breath
Ascribe their conquest to the Lamb, ■
Their triumph to His death. "
Three of the original bench of elders are yet with us. A. J.
McDowell, Daniel Potter, and, ¥m. McLaughlin, who I am sure
will heartily respond to all that I have said in relation to their
departed brethren, and who are all this day looking with joyful
hope to a blessed re-union with their former companions, and
cherished friends, beyond the portals of the skies.
Here, I may turn your attention to a few matters, that have been
made patent to my experience and observation, as a pastor.
First, That a church made up of an imperfect pastor, an imper-
fect session, and an imperfect membership, must necessarily
develope many imperfections in its workings. Yet this is the
sort of organization, God has chosen for the diffusion of His re-
ligion in our sin-ruined world. He hath committed the glorious,
priceless treasure of the Gospel to earthen vessels that the excel-
lency of the power might be everywhere seen and known to be of
God and not of man.
I have learned that even the best of men have their seasons of
passion, prejudice, and, perversity; yet after all, time, gentleness,
and kindness bring them like the needle after the electrical storm,
to resume the heavenward bearings of righteousness, and truth.
I have seen excellent men, amid excitement, quitting their pew8
and, abandoning their places, with menaces and prophecies, yet
those very men I have seen in the Church consistently pursuing
their duty, I have been with them at their own request in sickness
and death ; and of that class yet living, I number some of my
warmest personal friends.
I have learned not to give up hope when the night is dark, the
storm lowering, and the vessel rudely tost by conflicting winds.
Our Father is at the helm, " Weeping may endure for a night,
but joy cometh in the morning." "We may safely rely"on Him,
who reigns above the clouds, and "rides upon the storm, " to see
to it, that whatever becomes of ministers, or elders, rich men, or
poor men, wicked men, or, devils, "the gates of Hell " shall never
prevail against any single body of believers, " built upon the foun-
dation of the Apostles, and, Prophets, Jesus Christ, himself being
the chief corner stone. "
19
I nave learned that secret and open devices of malignant pei
sons, and misrepresentation and direct falsehood, will not long
have the power to do harm ; they fail of their end, bring their
authors to confusion, and, sometimes to sorrow. God preserves
his servants despite their own weakness, blindness and ignorance,
and by His hidden shield turns away all that else would prove inju-
rious, or, disastrous to the reputation, and, usefulness of his
servants. Surely " God is a Sun and Shield," and none need fear
for safety who put their trust in Him. " No good thing will He
withhold from them that walk uprightly. "
I have also learned that there are often wrapped up in the ad-
verse and appalling providences of God, the richest blessings He
is wont to bestow upon the children of men.
From looking at the past, we turn for a moment to the present
and, the future. Here am I to-day as I never was before, at the
end of a continuous ministry of twenty-five years. It is morally
certain that such an occasion will never return to me on earth,
just as now those years are gone, and all their issues for good, or,
evil are sealed, so the entire limit of my service will soon all
be past, and I shall enter upon the review, not by the light of dim
memory, but by the light of Eternity around the Throne.
I see some to whom I have offered the Gospel of Christ for the
period almost sufficient to bound a generation, they have still re-
jected Him ; I confess I greatly fear that their decision is unalter-
ably made. If so, how much of that result lies chargeable to my
account ?
This day, I believe a great number, who once occupied these
seats, are seated around "the Great White Throne." What
views, what experiences, what teachings, what joys are theirs ! I
cannot but look onward a little when those of us who remain,
shall all be gone, a stranger's voice shall here, herald the Gospel
tidings, and a great congregation of strangers shall fill these pews,
and, hear, and believe, repent and drink of the fountain of the
Water of Life and be saved.
Where, then, shall we be, who celebrate this quarter centennial
anniversary ? We shall lie in our graves, our spirits shall be with
our Saviour, and our friends above, or, " reserved in everlasting
chains under darkness unto the judgment of the great day. "
For twenty-five years gone, we give thanks to God ; its mem-
ories, its record, its history, demand our praise. Oh, as now we
see the last year of this eventful period, its history is written in
20
fratricidal blood. But if we come up at the great reckoning day,
without Christ, deceived by false hopes, or taking the awful
hazard of His open rejection, what lines will be dark enough to
trace our calamities? Shall we find blood-guiltiness charged
against us, not indeed, fraternal blood, but the blood of Christ
trampled under foot. May God forbid ! Nay rather, my brethren,
let us draw the veil when all our sorrows shall be ended, our last
sigh heaved, our latest tear wiped away, our last pain of body,
and, spirit assuaged; when, as a Church, and, congregation,
those below and those above, with Pastor, elders and people, shall
meet and dwell together; where Christ is, and the spirits of just
men made perfect, the General Assembly, and Church of the first
born, whose names are written in Heaven.
Then, indeed, all our years below will be gone; "gone like
some small star that has been twinkling in the curtain of night,
gone, like the dying cadence of distant minstrelsy as it vanishes
into air, gone, like the word just spoken, never to be recalled, gone,
like the clouds after the rain, gone, like the leaves of the autumn
forest, gone, as yesterday is gone," never, never, never to return.
But of that congregation, none shall be removed, none shall be
offended, none disciplined for offences; none shall sicken, or,
sigh or, weep, none shall sin, nor suffer and none die ; but with
unwearied voices, and untiring strains, from hearts overflowing
with soul-satisfying, eternal, growing joy, we shall ascribe, "Sal-
vation to our God," even, "blessing, and honor, and glory and
power, unto Him that sitteth upon the Throne and unto the
Lamb, forever, and, ever," Amen.
PROCEEDINGS*
OF THE
ANNIVERSARY MEETING
INCLUDING ADDRESSES
by
REV. DR. BEATTY. AND REV. A. M. REID.
On Sabbath, the 17th of November, it was just twenty-five
years, since the Rev. Dr. Comingo began his ministrations in the
First Presbyterian Church, Steubenville, and the interesting
occasion was celebrated in a becoming manner.
At a meeting of the congregation, previously, it had been " Re-
solved that we celebrate the Quarter Centennial Anniversary of
the relation of Dr. H. G. Comingo, as Pastor of our Church, and
that we extend an invitation to the ministers of all the Evangelical
Churches, and to the congregation of the Second Presbyterian
Church." The congregation of the Second Church united with
the First in all the exercises of the occasion.
On the morning of the Sabbath, Dr. Comingo preached
to a very crowded house, the discourse which is now pub-
lished. Dr. Beatty, the predecessor of Dr. Comingo, as Pastor of
the First Presbyteriau Church, had been invited by the Session to
fill the pulpit in the evening, but was prevented from being
present, by indisposition. The Rev. J. B. Patterson, of the Second
Church, preached, instead, an admirable sermon from the text,
"No man liveth to himself."
In continuance of the exercises of this joyful occasion, a meet-
ing was appointed to be held in the First Church, on the Tuesday
* This account of the Anniversary is prepared chiefly from an article published in the
newspapers at the time.
22
evening following. When the appointed hour had arrived, the
house was filled with a deeply interested audience, the clergy of
the place occupying seats about the pulpit.
The exercises were opened with prayer by the Rev. Mr. Abbott,
of the Methodist Protestant Church. The Rev. Dr. Beatty then
introduced the proceedings, by referring to the action of the
congregation ; and after speaking of the advantages of long pas-
torates, bore strong testimony to the great excellence of Dr.
Comingo as a preacher, a pastor, and a brother greatly beloved ;
— somewhat as follows :
ABSTRACT OF REMARKS BY DR. BEATTY.
This is a rare, as well as interesting occasion, upon which we
are met this evening. The purpose is to celebrate the twenty-fifth
anniversary, of the entrance of the Rev. Dr. Comingo, upon his
ministerial labors, in this congregation. Such occasions should
not be rare, according to the good old Presbyterian usage of
making the pastoral, like the marriage, relation, to be one for life,
But from some cause, perhaps the influence of our Methodist
brethren, who continually change the location of ministers, or
from the restlessness of the age in which we live ; — this good
old custom is so much out of fashion, that a minister seldom
continues twenty-five years in the same congregation. This is to
be deplored, according to my opinion, whose views on the perma-
nency of the pastoral relation, are pretty well known to most of
you. There are advantages in the continued labors of a minister
among the same people, where children grow up to maturity
under his instructions, which cannot be compensated by any
either fancied or real advantages of rotation. Such, however, is
the fondness for change, both with ministers and Churches, that
we are not often permitted to note such an event, as the quarter
century anniversary of a pastorate. It speaks well then for both
pastor and people that this relation has been so long maintained ;
and the interest of this season is equally creditable to both. I
congratulate them upon it. Nor is this peculiar to this congre-
gation ; as it seems a trait in the character of the community, (I
speak it to their praise,) that it is not given to change. My ex-
cellent brother here, the Rector of St. Paul's, (Dr. Morse,) has
been such, more than forty years; — it is not very long since the
Pastor of the United Presbyterian Church was carried to his grave,
after a continued pastorate of upwards of forty years ; and I trust
23
that his worthy successor may as long occupy the same place.
Even the Methodist Churches, so far as their rules will admit,
have showed the same inclination.
When I came among you, almost forty years ago, it was with
no other expectation than that my relation as Pastor would
last through life; but God ordered it differently. When this
brother entered upon his labors in my place, how very little did
I think that I should live to see even half as many years elapse.
But I rejoice and thank God that it is so, and that I am privileged
to unite with you on this pleasant occasion — offering our mutual
congratulations. We have been permitted to enjoy each others
society in close and intimate relations, and have labored long and
delightfully together, without a serious jar or misunderstanding
to interrupt our mutual, Christian and ministerial intercourse. I
must think it evidence of unusual kindness and amiability that
he could have so long forborne with one conscious of so many im-
perfections and errors.
His labors among you in preaching faithfully and earnestly the
Word: — in pastoral visitation, and other good works, you all
know as well as I do ; but none of you can know, as well as I,
the deep anxieties of his mind, and his fervent desire for your
spiritual and eternal good. — If the brother was not present I
might be induced to say more concerning him : — but you know it
is not my wont to praise or compliment, — especially in the
presence of the object.
And now it is well and fitting that this Church and congrega-
tion have prepared a suitable testimonial for their Pastor on this
occasion ; and with these few prefatory remarks, I give way to
that member of the Session, who is charged with this matter, and
as I understand is ready to make the presentation.
Mr. B. Drennen, on behalf of the officers and congregation of
the First Church, then presented to Dr. Comingo a purse of gold
and a handsome suit of clothes, as a testimonial of their love to
him, and t"heir gratitude to him for his abundant and faithful la-
bors, since he had been their Pastor.
"The Dr., in accepting the gift, said that he had generally, been a 'Looker-on in
Vienna,' and he now found that to be " the observed of all observers," was rather a sore trial
to his modesty. He said that while he felt conscious that he had ever sought them and not
theirs — the flock and not the Jkece — yet this evening he suddenly found himself in possession
of the fleece, and that the finest of the wool ; nay more, without becoming an Argonaut,
he found himself in possession of the golden fleece. He felt that there were circumstances
in which even St. Paul would acknowledge that it ' is a great thing that we should reap
your carnal things ' when it betokens so clearly the good feeling and affection of a grate-
ful people to their pastor ; if a cup of cold water given to a disciple in the name of n
disciple should not be without its reward, then their reward was sure."
24
Several short addresses were now made. Rev. J. B. Patterson,
of the Second Church, said he and his wife (the Second Church)
had come back to spend a pleasant evening with their mother.
(The Second Church was a colony from the First Church.) It
was delightful to them, on this occasion of joy and gladness, to
meet once more at the old family hearth. The Rev. Mr. Andrews,
of the United Presbyterian Church, and the Rev. Mr. Christian,
of the Episcopal Church, also made addresses appropriate to the
occasion.
Professor Reid, of the Steubenville Female Seminary, gave a
pleasant reminiscence of his first meeting with Dr. Comingo, in
remarks as follows, at the close presenting Dr. C. with a little
bouquet of "wild flowers, gathered by himself on Mt. Blanc :
REMARKS OF PROF. REID.
In the month of September, 1855, 1 spent a long-to-be-remembered Sabbathin the Vale
of Chamouni, in Switzerland. Toward eventide I walked out to worship in Nature's Ca-
thedral. Scarcely a cloud was to be seen in the clear sky. And Mt. Blanc and the granite
spires of his range and the glaciers at his feet, were all out in their glory. I ascended the
Flegerc a celebrated mountain opposite Mt. Blanc, a few thousand feet, for a better view.
About midway up, I saw a stranger whom I took to be an American, whose face and mien
greatly pleased me. He was gazing intently on the scene before us, and seemed to be
entirely absorbed in the contemplation. I saw his thoughts were in the same channel with
my own, and I ventured'to address him. " Can an Atheist," said he, " look upon such
scenes as these and be an Atheist still ? Can he look upon these mountains and not see the
hand of God, who piled them thus ? " So the interesting stranger went on, directing our
thoughts through Nature up to Nature's God. Right before us was the great white dome
of Mt. Blanc, rising from his silent Sea of Pines. And
" Mt. Blanc is the Monarch of Mountains,
They crowned him long ago
On a throne of rocks, in a robe of clouds,
With a diadem of snow."
And our thoughts ascended from the snow-crowned mountain to the great white throne
which it suggests and Him who sat on it, from whose face the earth and the heavens fled
away. And those thousand spires of granite, glittering in the sun-light, around the mighty
dome of Mt. Blanc — piercing far, far, into the deep blue of the sky, carried our thoughts at
once to the glittering spires of that Celestial City, whose walls are jasper and whose streets
are gold. And the grand glacier, with its sheen of light, right in front of us, reminded us
of that other "Sea of glass mingled with fire." And a3 we looked, and listened to the
voices of Nature, and worshipped ; as Nature's music came to our ear from pine-grove
and cataract, " like some sweet beguiling melody," we could almost fancy them standing
on this sea of glass too, " having the harps of God and singing the song of Moses and the
Lamb," saying, " Great and marvellous are thy works, Lord, God Almighty." And the
crystal river (the Arveiron,) that flows out from the foot of the sea of ice — the great glacier
that lies in the lap of the Monarch, reminded us of the pure river of Water of Life that
proceeds from the throne of God and tho Lamb, and we felt that " Earth with her
thousand voices praises God."
With such glorious views before us, with such high thoughts and holy contemplations
we descended, the stranger and I, from the mountain Bad felt that life swells into grandeur
25
when diguified by recollections pf such scenes. And ere we readied the little village that
nestles at the foot of Mt. Blanc, I felt that I had found in that far off land a Christian
friend and Christian brother. That friend was he whom we honor to night. That brother
was the beloved Pastor of this Church.
I hold in my hand a very little bouquet of Alpine flowers — flowers plucked, by my own
hand, from the side of Mt. Blanc, and I beg, Sir, your acceptance of this little offering as
a memorial of our first meeting on the top of the Alps, and as a very slight token of my
high esteem for you as a Christian gentleman and a Christian minister, an esteem which
1 assure you continues to increase with every passing year, And may I not hope that this
little bunch of flowers will be a pledge that our friendship, begun in a far-off land and now
cemented by Christian love, will extend into that other far-off land from which no traveler
returns.
Dr. Comingo said, in reply, "that he had a very vivid recollec-
tion of the day, and, scene so eloquently described by his friend
the Professor. He greatly appreciated the kind spirit which dic-
tated the words just spoken. He would keep these flowers as a
precious memento of a very pleasant incident in his life. He
thanked very heartily all the friends who had so often shown him
kindness. God would reward them. He felt that "he had borne the
heat and burthen of the day," 'that the shadows were lengthening and the
quiet evening teas coming, but he could look forward with hope, nay
with joy, to the hour, when he should be re-united to some who
had gone before, and should be ready to welcome those who
came after."
After the singing of a grand anthem, in fine style, by the Choirs
of the two Churches ; the assembly was dismissed with the Ben-
ediction by Dr. Morse, of the Protestant Episcopal Church. But
this was not the conclusion of the affair. The whole assembly
adjourned to a large hall in the city, to partake of a magnificent
supper, which had been prepared by the ladies of the First Church.
Probably eight hundred people partook of the supper. It was
really a joyous and happy occasion. The Pastor's heart was re-
freshed by so many cheering evidences of affection : he felt
strengthened for his future work, and the hearts of his people
were knit to him in closer bonds than ever. Long will it be re-
membered with pleasure, by all those who participated in it,
D
It is with the greatest hesitation, and reluctance, that these last sermons, of Mr.
Comingo's last earthly Sabbath are permitted, in their fragmentary, and, imperfect state,
to see the light ; and they are only yielded to the affectionate urgency of a sorrowing
people, and in the remembrance that he ever held his own reputation, subordinate, to th»
good of men, and the glory of God. Mr. Comingo rarely wrote out his discourses with
completeness, and always with abbreviations which others understand with difficulty, the
following ones, from the fatal but unsuspected disease of the chest, which made writing
irksome, and the premonitions of his own heart which led him to depend on the inspiration
of the moment, are marked examples of this. The greatest care has been taken to pre-
serve his own expressions, even when ambiguous, or mutilated, rather than desecrate them
by the shaping of another pen. The whole speak plainly, that the hand, that wrote but
did not correct, is in the dust.
TWO SERMONS:
BEING THE LAST DELIVERED
BY THE
EEV. DR. HENEY G. COMINGO,
Sabbath Morning and Evening, November 24th, 1861.
"Peace be unto you." — John 20 ■': 19.
This was a common form of oriental salutation, at meeting, or,
parting ; and like our own terms "good-bye," "farewell," its pro-
fessed import, was good-will, kindly interest in, and prayer for,
the welfare of the person addressed. Often, however, these are
the merest, idlest, emptiest forms, that fall from the lips only,
without a response in the heart. But they are not always a
thoughtless utterance. That Mother who says " farewell," as she
presses to her heart for the last time, the son who is hastening to
the vessel, that will put a hemisphere between them, means it all.
And here that beautiful salutation, "Peace be unto you," from
Him "who spake as never man spake" expresses more than
Mother's heart with all its overflowing tenderness can feel, more
than the human understanding can comprehend.
27
What a day was that first day of the week which dawned so
many centuries ago upon the ancient city of Jerusalem ! What a
day of days to be remembered while the world stands, as the day
spring of joy, and salvation for ruined man. The early dawn of
that day presents to our view the Lord of Glory, bursting the bars
of death, conquering our last enemy, leaving the grave triumph-
antly, and becoming "the first fruits" of them that slept, saying,
"I will ransom them from the power of the grave ; I will redeem
them from death ; 0 death, I will be they plagues, 0 grave, I will
be thy destruction."
The sorrowing women "came very early in the morning"
"when it was yet dark" to the sepulchre to perform the last offices
for the lifeless form of Him they loved, and were followed by
Peter and John, they found the tomb untenanted by Him they
sought, and wondering and perplexed at the angelic vision, "had
gone away again unto their own home," Mary remaining at the
sepulchre weeping, then Jesus made Himself known to her, and
honored her with a message to His disciples. That same day saw
Him walking with two of the disciples to Emmaus rebuking them
as " slow of heart to believe all that the Prophets had spoken,"
uttering that emphatic interrogatory, never to be forgotten by one
sinner saved by grace, " Ought not Christ to have suffered these
things and to enter into His glory?" and then expounding and
illustrating the teachings of Moses and all the Prophets, and
showing their direct application to Himself.
That evening He came to the city whence He had gone out in
the morning, and sought the secluded chamber where the disciples
were met with doors closed to keep the hostile, and persecuting
Jews from malignantly intruding to overhear their conversation,
or, disturb their worship. It is difficult to conceive the thrilling
emotions of that company of sorrowing disciples when they beheld
their Lord standing in their midst, prefacing His words of grace
and mercy, with the salutation "Peace be unto you."
This was a -mighty, heart-quickening thought, all the
past, its sins, its perversions was forgiven, forgotten ;
He came not as a wrathful Judge to reckon with them
for their unbelief, and unfaithfulness ; He came not to reproach
them with their blameable conduct ; He brought with Him from
the sepulchre something very different from upbraidings : He
came with peace in His heart, and, upon His lips, He said "Peace
be unto you."
28
Let us consider
First, The significance of that "peace" here declared to the
trembling, anxious disciples.
Secondly, The extent of the benefits then assured to them.
Thirdly, The future blessedness it would bring to their ex-
perience.
So far from uttering an unmeaning form of words, the Savior
employed one weighty as eternity, and designed to convey, when
falling from His divine lips, more than tongue can adequately
express.
A learned expositor says the word ffirene, peace, in a civil sense,
is the opposite of war, and dissension. Then in a tropical sense it
means peace of mind, tranquility arising from reconciliation with
God and a sense of the divine favor. " Therefore being justified
by faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ."
" Now the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace in believing,
that ye may abound in hope through the power of the Holy
Ghost." " The peace of God, which passeth all understanding,
shall keep your hearts, and minds through Christ Jesus." The
evangelical Prophet sets before us the same great Gospel thought.
"He was wounded for our transgressions, He was bruised for our
iniquities, the chastisement of our peace was upon Him." This is
the great foundation stone of man's security and happiness. The
procurement of this peace was the grand object of Christ's
mission, and mediation. The accomplishment of this peace was
first secured as He rose from the sepulchre, for He "was delivered
for our offences, and raised again, for our justification." Hence
that which was upon His heart in all the course of His humiliation,
in all His sufferings, and abasement, in all His teachings, and
sacrifices, in all His prayers, and, agonies, and only finished when
He gave up the ghost, and, was under the power of death for a
time, and rose the victor over the grave and over death, He
hastened to cry to His beloved followers, "Peace be unto you."
It links itself with happiness and bliss as their procuring cause.
Hence we read of "the way of peace," that is, of happiness, and
of the "sons of peace," or bliss or happiness.
Further the Saviour also included in this benediction, the earnest
good wishes, and, kindness of his heart
Tims wo Bee that such a word upon the Savior's lips comes to the
cars of mortals, with un importance, and, significance that language
can scarcely express. He points to what He has purchased for
His people, to what He would cause to be proclaimed and pub-
lished abroad by His ambassadors, "Peace on earth, good will
toward men."
Here words are things, things of the greatest magnitude, of
the highest intrinsic value to all men. His word created the uni-
verse, and at his bidding, in the twinkling of an eye, ten thousand
worlds would spring forth again in order, and beauty. But such
words would not procure for poor, helpless, sinful man, one-half
such gifts and blessings as we find in his address to the secluded
worshippers in the holy city. .....
Secondly, Here we glance at the extent of the benefits then
assured to them by the words of our Lord. "Peace," says Baxter,
" containeth infinite blessings, it strengthened faith, it kindleth
charity." .......
These words now spoken were not simply designed to allay the
sudden perturbation, and, alarm that might have been awakened
by His unexpected presence in their midst.
The Saviour had said much to them ahout Peace before His
death; "Peace I leave with you, my peace I give unto you."
" These things have I spoken unto you that ye might have peace."
Nay long before His advent He was proclaimed, " The Prince of
Peace."
Though they had been conscious of once standing in open hos-
tility to God, had defied His anger, and wilfully trampled His law
under foot; yet now coming up from the tomb His work finished,
His Father's seal of approbation upon him, His "everlasting right-
eousness, " now "brought in, "as assured to every believer; as these
now believed, hoped, trusted, worshipped, He proclaimed as theirs
peace, reconciliation between God and their own souls, and ac-
ceptance as righteous in His sight, for the sake of the divine mer-
it now made .theirs in an everlasting covenant. This was a boon
that could never else have been attained and realized. There was
but one ransom price that could avail; that was now offered and
accepted, and therefore they might receive the assurance of peace
with God through our Lord Jesus^Christ. "
"Jehovah Tsidkenu ! my treasure and boast,
Jehovah Tsidkenu ! I ne'er can be lost:
In Thee I shall conquer by flood and by field,
My cable, my anchor, my breast-plate, my shield."
30
Besides this they then had peace of conscience, the direct out-
growth from the state of pardon, and acceptance secured by the
merits of Christ.
Great imperfections, short-comings, and sins would constantly
recur to the jealous observation, of the anxious heart, but the
blood of Christ would allay the accusations of conscience and re-
lieve from all apprehension of falling under God's wrath, or of
coming into condemnation. "Who shall lay anything to the charge
of God's elect? It is God that justifieth. Who is he that con-
demneth ? It is Christ that died."
How blessed is this condition compared with that of the soul
in which conscience is ever pointing to fearful retribution that
shall wring the soul with sorrow, and writing accusations that
could not fail to bring to our minds the treasures of wrath laid up
in store for us. ......
They then also had the assurance of the Saviour's gracious wishes,
and, all sufficient offices, so that nothing should harm them, or,
make them afraid.
Our catechism defines the benefits we receive in this life — "as-
surance of God's love, peace of conscience, joy in the Holy Ghost,
increase of grace, and perseverance therein to the end."
"Assurance of God's love, peace of conscience."
Guilt being purged from ua in the
sight of the Lord we stand in His favor. . ...
"Come with boldness to the throne of grace," cheerfully acquiesce
in the dispensations of God. .....
"Joy in the Holy Ghost." .....
. "Increase of grace" and the principle of perse-
verance therein to eternal life.
Thirdly, The future blessedness this peace shall realize to their
experience.
As they are by the righteousness of Christ reinstated in the eye
of the law, and judgment of God so shall they reach the meet-
ness and qualifications requisite to enable them to enjoy Heaven.
The appointment of sorrows and reverses good.
all efficacious
"For I reckon that the sufferings of this present
time are not worthy to be compared with the glory, that shall b«
revealed in us. " . . . . . .
3r
" rejoice in hope of the glory of God. "
"we glory in tribulations."
The resources whence their joys flow ....
the exhaustless well-springs in Christ. We must
survey His merits, we must see the treasures of His wisdom, we
must follow the exertions of His power, and the outpouring upon
us, of His heart of hearts, in that" love which passeth knowledge."
It must be commensurate with the capacity of
the soul to receive of God, and, of God to give, and with eternity
in duration.
These words were better than the offers of gold and silver,
houses and lands, honor and authority, crowns and sceptres. In-
deed no greater gifts were in His hands, than these He declared
to the eleven.
As Christ was there so He delights to be in every company of
worshippers. "Where two or three are gathered together in my
name there am I, in the midst of them."
He is there not as a mere spectator but to dis-
pense consolations and blessings. How sad the fact that many
are so slow to believe this, and wound our Lord by cold neglect.
Peace
Let me exhort you to maintain this among yourselves. "Behold,
how good, and how pleasant it is for brethren to dwell together
in unity !"
But I proclaim this peace to you . . every one ;
if you only really, and truly believe,
see what is yours.
From this time forth let us ever hear these words of Christ as
we kneel in our closets . . . at
the family altar, where the few meet, to call unitedly upon His
name, or, as we pour the public prayer in the sanctuary.
When we enter His church He will teach us the
immeasurable blessings He conveyed in these words of peace.
. . . He will whisper them in our
ear, as the last of earth fades from the glazing eye ; and salute us
with them as we enter the habitations of His glory.
" Occupy till I come." — Luke 19: 18.
The occurrences which drew from our Saviour the wonderful
parable in which our text is found, took place in the city of Jeri-
cho, as Jesus passed through on His way to Jerusalem. The
many marvellous works He had done had excited the curiosity of
a citizen of that place, a man of fortune and position, a collector
of customs. Being little of stature, the crowd that surrounded
our Lord seemed likely to prevent his seeing Him, but forgetful
of his dignity, and impelled by a divinely implanted desire, he
climbed up into a sycamore tree that over-shadowed the wayside.
Thompson in his admirable volume "The Land, and the Book,"
concludes this was not the mulberry, as some have supposed, but
the Kliarub or Syrian Sycamore, a tree usually planted along thor-
oughfares in oriental countries, and admirably adapted to the pur-
pose for which Zaccheus selected it, having a rough, shaggy trunk,
and giant arms.
Our Lord was not unobservant of the workings of his heart, and
graciously responded to his deeply felt, but unuttered desire by
saying to him, "Zaccheus make haste, and come down for to-day
I must abide at thy house. " The processes within his heart are
not developed, but we find as the blind saw, the deaf heard, the
dumb spoke at the Saviour's bidding, so the selfish worldly spirit
of this man soon became conscious of a great change, as was
evinced by the quick and ready benevolence expressed, and the
earnest avowal of resolutions for the future. The Saviour then de-
clares in the presence Of others that He had thus signally blessed
Zaccheus "forasmuch as he was a son of Abraham," and further
intimates that the great object of His wonderful mission to the
earth was to seek and to save the lost. The gross views of the
Jewish people blinded them so that they saw nothing higher in
the sublime spiritual lesson the Lord had just spoken than the as-
sumption of a temporal kingdom, and their deliverance from the
Roman yoke. Indeed as they drew near to Jerusalem, they were
bo carried away by this delusion as to look for his immediate en-
thronement. In His inimitable wisdom the Saviour designed to
33
correct their erroneous views, by the brief and instructive parable
which He proceeded to narrate. A nobleman went to receive
the investiture of a kingdom, falling to him in a distant country.
Of this they had familiar examples. Most of the Kings of the
East at this time were vassals to Rome, and the heir, seldom ven-
tured to ascend the vacant throne without her sanction and some-
times a journey to the Capital was requisite to ensure their suc-
cession. Herod, and, Archelaus reigned by favor of the Romans. —
To ten servants the nobleman delivered ten pounds (equivalent
to the talents of the parallel parable in Matthew,) with which each
was to do business till his return, enjoining their duty and obli-
gations, in the words of our text, " Occupy till I come. " I know
few words says an eminently pious writer more searching and
impressive than these four. They are spoken to all who profess
and call themselves christians. They address the conscience of
all who have not renounced their profession and turned their
backs on Christianity. They ought to stir up the hearers of the
Gospel to "examine themselves whether they are in the faith, and
to prove themselves. " After such a process of self-inspection, a
large company here, but recently met at the Lord's table, not we
trust with any such misguided apprehensions as bewildered the
minds of the secular, sensuous Jews but we have reason to hope
you ordered your purposes and plans of life for the glory of the
Master who so lately placed in your hands, fresh tokens of His
love and pledges of His return.
It will not be unprofitable we trust to dwell upon these four
significant, and, impressive words so earnestly spoken by the
Lord Jesus. They are as really and truly addressed to us, "on
whom the ends of the world are come " as to those who gathered
round Him in the home of the publican.
It is an impressive thought indeed that Jesus speaks to us. His
very words are ringing in *our ears. It is true we hear not the
sweet tones of voice, which conveyed his blessed lessons of truth
and consolation to all hearts so that they wondered at the words
of truth and grace which He spake.
But when we have a lesson so brie£ and practical from the un-
derstanding, that is infinite, from wisdom, that is unsearchable,
from a friend that loved us while we were his enemies, who gave
Himself for us, that He might redeem us from all evil, and make
us kings and priests unto God, when He has gone to prepare a
E
34
place for us, and declared that He will return again, and receive
us unto Himself that we may be with Him, and behold His glory;
surely it is but reasonable that we should most deeply, earnestly
and, reverently give our thoughts, and careful and practical atten-
tion to every syllable that falls from His lips !
But in the next place we inquire
into the significant import of these words.
The servants of the nobleman were to do business, and, increas-e
wealth, the christian is to do good and promote the glory of the
Master. Behold what He has entrusted to each one of His chil-
dren. . . .....
The germ of the new life is planted by His own hand in your
heart.
One grand stage of the development, pertains to the part of our
pilgrimage anterior to the grave.
What a work is to be wrought in the riddance of all those evil
growths, that spring like noxious weeds, to retard the better,
and more valuable plants in the garden of your soul. Selfishness
is adverse to the heaven-born benevolence of the new nature, it
must be eradicated ; sloth is opposed, to pains-taking labor and,
dilligence in all the appointed duties of the christian walk ; sen-
suality to faith, sinful pleasure, to the spirit of devotion, self-right-
eousneBs, to the habitual trust in Christ . . the flesh to the
spirit, corruption to grace.
the course of duty when we be-
come new creatures.
What has He given into our hands to be accounted for, and use-
fully employed till the day of release.
Consider, — your bodily health and strength, mental gifts and
capacities, money, and earthly possessions, rank, and position in
life, example, and influence with others. Liberty to read the Bi-
ble, and hear the gospel, plentiful supply of the means of grace.
All these are your pounds, all these are to be used and employ-
ed with continual reference to Christ's glory. Of Him come both
riches and honor, His is the silver and His the gold, His is your
body, and His your spirit, He appoints your habitation, and He
gives you life and health, "ye are not your own — ye are bought
with a price." Has God imparted to you new life
th e Holy Ghost . opened to you precious prom-
ises. . . the throne of grace
given you daily access, to christains and the impenitent
35
assurod us not a cup of cold water unrewarded 1
To what specific ends are wo to direct our efforts in following
the spirit of this injunction?
This is the best and most successful method of turning them to
our own spiritual advantage. Job's captivity was turned when
he prayed for his friends. The deepest gloom and despondence
of the christain's heart have often broken away when he became
interested for others, and his own troubles havo been wholly for-
gotten. The effort and desire to benefit others, and especially
labor and care for their salvation and spirituality marvellously
bear the souls of believers onward in assimilation to Christ.
We look at Captain Vicars maintaining a near-
ness to his Saviour, amid the bustle of camp life, — amid the intens-
est war excitement, it is because he was not ashamed to bear
Christ to others, wherever ho mingled with his fellow soldiers,
officers, or privates.
But the glorious results to be expected from these agencies af-
ford a mighty incentive. . . Dr. Abed
conceive the labors of the Sabbath School teacher
those little seeds of truth placed in the soil of youthful hearts
The Bible class . . the instance
of 3Ess Ching.
The word spoken to cold languishing believers, — an instance
in my recollection. Many years ago there was in this church a
christian of whom it might be said he was " faithful in a little "
he loved the courts of the Lord's house, and ever filled his seat in
the prayer-meeting assisting in his humble way in its devotions.
On his way to the latter he passed the house of a brother in the
church, a man of richer gifts and longer christian experience, but
alas! one who had never tasted the sweet fulfilment, of that prom-
ise " where two, or, three are gathered in my name there am I in
the midst of them." Meekly, but perseveringly the humble man
plied the older christian with entreaties, and expostulations,
rather than argument, until at last he yielded, accompanied him
to the prayer-meeting and became a joyful, and most edifying
participant in its services, and though then far advanced in life
lived to plead with God for this church, and prevail, when even
the wise virgins around were sleeping.
In primitive times the gospel was thus diffused by all classes
even down to slaves. In our own land, and day we have a beau-
tiful illustration of what even this humble class may do for that
36
gospel which makes tliem freemen in Christ. " Old Moses " was
a slave on the eastern shore of Maryland; converted by the grace
of God he prayed that his master might partake of the same bless-
inge. These praydrs, overheard at his master's dwelling gave
offence, and he was sold, but he who proclaimed himself the hear-
er of prayer, brought their subject to the feet of Jesus.
This is the only time for this work. In it you may engage for
a brief day, and then never have access to do aught again for
eternity ........
Christ promises to be with you and . . . His grace
sufficient for you. He will give His holy spirit too to them that
ask Him. Thus an open door is set before you to occupy :
as Christ did in His day as
many of the cloud of witnesses who are now in glory.
But the great thought is that Christ comes, " till he come. " This
we understand in the general import, to indicate to his people
and church, the great requirement at their hands, till he shall
gather His elect from the four winds.
But to the individual it points out that nearing
period within perhaps a single step, when this vapor-like life shall
vanish, and we shall be seen in our familiar walks no more, "in
such an hour as ye think not the son of man cometh."
Then although we had labored unseen, and endured pain and
insult and often mourned our ill success, we shall find that in
every step of our faithful occupancy we were sustained by His
presence, care, and sympathy.
It shall then be seen that not any of our efforts were forgotten,
or overlooked, — that at an unexpected moment, a word dropped,
fixed itself in the memory, — took root in the heart, and sprang
forth, under the energy of the new life.
Oh ! what answers to prayer, what happy and vast results from
the exertions of those who sought to obey this injunction, five —
ten — an hundred-fold results, and life everlasting. The reward
when He comes, — the rest, — the joy, the future occupancy when
He bids us "come up higher," — "eye hathnot seen."
But the Lord cometh; say, ye, who bear the name of Christ
what is your present attitude ? are you hiding your Lord's money
making no exertion, do you not think of
the work to be done ? do you exonerate yourselves on some flimsy
pretext ? are you hurrying to meet Him with nothing to show
but a few outward formal acts, on the unerring records of your
37
coming Lord ? . . . . .
Your heart barren of interest for others, your hands utterly idle
that you never labored, or prayed for the
ungodly, that your talents were neglected, or wasted on your own
selfish aims and purposes.
What must we say when we meet our Lord to account for that
He has granted, and we shall find nothing of all he intrusted, of
the ample means, temporal and eternal, material and spiritual, all
were abused, neglected despite these solemn words.
If you have not made the experiment believer, consider that
your course locks up from your enjoyment the treasure house of
christian experience.
Oh, what a blessed vision
do I behold, this church awaking to the import, and obligation of
these words ! How many mentally confessing past delinquency,
resolving to obey their Lord . . . How many saying,
"Lord what will Thou have me to do ?"
Three hundred prayers in secret addressed to the hearer of
prayer for the welfare of the whole, and the conversion of sinners.
Three hundred words, — sentences, spoken, or efforts daily made
for the impenitent. Three hundred bright and impressive exam-
ples of Christ-like walk and devotion.
These, in the mass . in the house of prayer
and sanctuary all making out an account in the record of the an-
gel, well-pleasing to the Master. And as one and another is call-
ed, the Saviour's salutation meets each on the confines of the ce-
lestial city "well done good and faithful servant."
Then . . . the final gathering of all, while
growing numbers shall remain "to occupy," and thus from this
spot till the end of time, a stream of faithful occupiers ascend to
glory ...... and at last
the reward, and bliss complete before the throne of God and the
Lamb.
FUNERAL OF REV. H. G. COMINGO, D. D.
The following account is taken from the Presbyterian Banner,
and was written by the Rev. James Allison:
At 9 o'clock on Wednesday morning, after a ride on the railroad of two hours, we found
ourself at the station in Steubenville. This place we had frequently visited, and every
time before this there was a kind voice to welcome us and a warm hand to grasp us. But
to-day that voice is silent, that hand is cold. And we, along with multitudes of others,
have come to attend the funeral ceremonies of the Rev. Henry G. Comingo, D. D., who had
died on the previous Sabbath morning, in the 53d year of his age. The whole city seemed
to feel that it had met with a great loss. The children in the streets played less merrily.
The countenances of men and women were more than usually serious, and they talked in
subdued tones. While business seemed almost entirely suspended.
At the hour of 1U o'clock, the body of our deceased brother was carried into the church
by the Elders, followed by the widow, her two orphan boys, and her relatives. After
these came the clergymen of the city and others from a distance. The church had been
already filled by the congregation and inhabitants, so far as they were able to obtain
admittance. As the body — enclosed iu a beautiful burial casket, and arrayed in the suit
of clothes presented him a few days previous to his last illness — was slowly carried up the
aisle, an involuntary sob escaped hundreds of lips. So audible was the weeping that no
heart was untouched. The house was completely draped in black, the daylight excluded
and lamps lighted.
The solemn services were introduced by singing the 633d Hymn —
"Vital 6park of heavenly flame."
The Rev. J. B. Patterson, pastor of the Second Presbyterian church, then read appro-
priate selections of Scripture, taken principally from the 15th chapter of 1. Corinthians.
After this, prayer was offered by the Rev. James I. Brownson, D. D., of Washington, Pa.
Then the Rev. C. C. Beattt, D. D., who conducted the exercises, said, that owing to the
fact that he had been the predecessor of Dr. Comingo in the pastorate of that church, and
his long intimacy with his deceased brother, it would naturally be expected that he should
6ay something, on this occasion, of his worth and of his hopes. But neither the state of
his health nor his emotions would allow this at present, and he would give place to others.
On a future occasion he would discharge this duty, at a time of which due notice would
be given. He then introduced the venerable Rev. Henry Weed, D. D., of Wheeling, a
member of the first class that graduated at Princeton Theological Seminary. Dr. Weed
6aid : What is the voice of a poor and infirm old man, amid this drapery, these mournful
faces, these weeping eyes, and thes^ throbbing hearts ? An inaudible voice was speaking
to them to-day; it was the voice of God. Gladly would the speaker be silent, but in con-
sideration of the dying request of his brother, who so deliberately contemplated death, he
could not refuse to speak.
He had lost a friend, all there had lost a friend. And that loss was great. Every one's
thoughts at once recurred to his labors, his services, and his death. To us the loss was
sudden, but the change was not so to him who had just left us. Before mortal symptoms
had presented themselves he had felt and said that his work was finished. It was not im-
possible to believe that God by his holy Spirit could impress his servant with the convic-
tion that his work was done. It was consoling in this case to know that the Lord had
not suddenly broken the ties that had bound him to earth. Thus he could quietly meet
the approaching change, saying ''My work is done," when the hand of disease was con-
firming his previous anticipations. How like Paul ! and there was much of the Paclinb
in his character. How like Christ I He desired to meet those of his charge who had gone
before to the general assembly and Church of the first born. He could leave the people
he loved, because he loved his Lord more. Estimable as he was as a man, it was of grace,
and not of man, that he was enabled to die thus — so peacefully and so hopefully — most of
30
those present had often heard him commend Christ. God made him to realize in his owii
experience that grace of which he had testified.
His death is a warning to Christians to be ready. Especially is it a warning to the un-
converted. For, successful as his ministry had been, all of them had not accepted the
Gospel. He had besought them with an affectionate solicitude and a holy earnestness
never to be forgotten. Even amid the pains of death he had sent messages to his people.
In your retirement forget not these.
The Rev. A. M. Reid, of the Female Seminary, then said : *
I should not speak in this presence, to-day, christian friends, but that I have a message
entrusted to me, for his congregation, from our dear brother who is gone. When I was
with him about noon of last Saturday, the day before he left us, he spoke freely of his
death and his bright prospect beyond. After giving me messages of kindness and love
for different members of our family, even to the youngest of the household, and for the
young ladies of the Seminary in whom he always felt a deep interest, and of whom he often
spoke as "the strangers in our midst," he said: "And my dear congregation, tell them-
how much I love them. My dear, dear people, I did not know how much I loved them.
They have been very kind to me ever since I have been with them, bearing with my im-
perfections and short-comings. Ask them to forgive me if I have wronged any one of
them in any wise. And 1 do freely forgive any who may have wronged me. And tell my
dear congregation from their dying pastor's bed to give their hearts to Jesus. Oh, why
will they reject my Saviour ?"
My impenitent friends, you, who have long listened to that voice now silent can best
answer that question: "Oh, why will they reject my Saviour ?" Oh, my dying friends,
let the stillness and silence of this solemn scene impress this last sad question of your
dying pastor upon your hearts. You would not listen to his voice from that pulpit, will
you not listen to his voice from this coffin '? Oh, if his spirit could come here from
heaven to-day and re-animate those cold lips, with what passionate earnestness would he
beseech and urge you to give your hearts to Jesus. Rejectors of Jesus, if you would see
your pastor again in yon bright world, listen to his last words, give your hearts to Jesus.
If you would die like him triumphing over death, give your hearts to Jesus. I have seen
him in many a joyous and happy hour, the most joyous of the joyful the happiest of the
happy. God only knows the many pleasant hours we have spent together — for he enjoyed
the higher and purer pleasures of social and religious life as much as any one. But I
have never seen him so happy, in such a rapture of exalted happiness, as when, in the
near prospect of death on last Saturday, he said, "I shall awake in His likeness. Oh,
precious thought, to be like Jesus." Then clasping his hands, with light from heaven
upon his face, he said:
"0 glorious horn- ! O blest abode !
I shall be near and like my God."
He had not the shadow of a doubt as to the future. "To-morrow" said he, "is the first
Sabbath of December and I shall spend it in heaven." He was anxious to depart and be
with Christ which is far better. "Are you willing to die?" I said to him the night of his
death. "0 yes," he replied, "I am afraid 1 am impatient to be gone." The language of-
his heart in his last moments is well expressed in a hymn which was very dear to him.
"Let me go, the day is breaking,
Dear companions let me go."
And when the day was breaking his spirit took its upward flight and he did spend the first
Sabbath of December in heaven as he had predicted. "Meet me in heaven," said he. — •
God grant that we all may meet him in heaven.
The Rev. Mr. Andrews, of the United Presbyterian Church,
remarked :
That he felt constrained to say a word to magnify the grace of God, to cheer and ani-
mate. Five years ago he had come to this place, was most cordially received by brother
Comingo. And from that hour to this he had found him the friend in whom he could
confide and the brother he could love. On last Saturday evening he had gone to his
room, and as he entered, the dying pastor exclaimed, "Almost home, come along brother,
and bring your people with you." Two weeks ago, in this place the people, like Mart
of old, had brought the alabaster-box and broken it. The perfume was grateful. And
though an envious spirit might have said, why all this waste — why was not this sold and
given to the poor ? He could have replied, pointing to the clothes they had given him,
"they have done this against my burial." He had often seen brother Cominuo happy, but
*MI R. furnished' his remarks inserted, instead of the abstract in the Banner.
40
never in so much ecstacy of enjoyment as or. last Saturday evening, when the Bilver cord
was being loosed, and the golden bowl broken.
He was followed by the Rev. Mr. Ahbott, of the Methodist Protestant church, who bore
testimony to the generosity, worth, and christian character of the deceased.
The Eev. Dr. Jacobus, of the Western Theological Seminary,
said :
At the risk of disturbing the impression now made, he must refer to another feature of
the character of his dear departed brother. He had met him twenty-six years ago, in the
Seminary at Princeton. He was a senior, I a junior. Then he was the same genial friend
and devoted Christian as ever since. He was a man of public spirit in all great and good
enterprises. He would be missed in the General Assembly and in the Synod; and
especially would the members of Synod remember his holy earnestness at the last meet-
ing. He would be missed in the Presbytery, at "Washington College, and in the Western
Theological Seminary. Is it possible that brother Comingo lies there ? What a beautiful
winding up of a quarter of a century. You met to receive his salutation, and give him
those garments, not to preach in, as you fondly hoped, but to lie in death. How instruc-
tive the course of such a father, husband, and friend ! How do our eyes follow this chariot,
this horseman as he steps out of these vestments into heaven ! Well do we remember
when the last Convention met in Pittsburgh for prayer, with what a prayer he opened
that solemn convocation; how he poured out his great soul. How appropriate his last
texts ! In the morning, "Peace be with you;" and in the afternoon, "Occupy till I come."
And on Monday, when he felt the first attack of disease he had said, "How becoming if the
Master should now take me home !" There was not a blight on his character — not a stain
on his memory. He could say with the Apostle, "I know that my Redeemer liveth," <fcc.
May his blessed experience be ours. We are like soldiers in the army; some fall, and
others must rush forward to take their places.
Prayer was then offered by the Rev. Mr. Swanky, of the Presbytery of Steubenville. —
After which the 639th hymn was sung, and the benediction pronounced by the Rev. Dr.
Morse, of the Episcopal Church.
At the close of these services, the vast assemblage, including Christians of all denomina-
tions and classes, even Jews, and those having no regard for any forms of religion, passed
in front of the pulpit, with slow steps and tearful eyes, to behold for the last time on earth
the face of him whom they all loved; and then the long procession took its way to the
beautiful Cemeterj. west of the city, where the body was committed to its resting place,
till the resurrection,
The Rev. Henry G. Comingo, D. D., was a native of Kentucky, and a graduate of Centre
College at Danville, in that State. Here, for a year after graduation, he acted as tutor,
having for one of his pupils Ex- Vice President John C. Breckinridge, whose treason was
a source of great pain and mortification to his former instructor. In the Theological
Seminary at Princeton, he passed through the course. And now, after twenty-five years
of successful pastoral labor, he has died, in the very midst of his usefulness, mourned by.
all who knew him. His church, his wife, and his orphan sons, have the sympathies and
prayers of many — very many.
FUNERAL DISCOURSE:
PREACHED BY THE
REV. DR. CHARLES C. BEATTY,
On Sabbath Morning, December 22nd, 1861.
REQUESTED BY MEMBERS OF THE CONGREGATION.
"Precious in the sight of the Lord is the death of his saints." — Psalm 116: 15.
In the midst of a world apostate and sinful, it is matter of con-
solation that there are some, though few, to be distinguished from
others, and known as the excellent of the earth. These, the peo-
ple of God, by whatever name they may be called: — are pointed
out in the text as his saints. The eye of infinite wisdom discerns
and separates them from the mass of human society, pronouncing
"the righteous more excellent than his neighbor." (Pro v. 12: 26.)
They are called saints as persons relatively or really holy; and
this is their character. Men often lightly esteem them. But
however they may be regarded, or disregarded by their fellow
men, who are absorbed in things, in their own estimation, of
greater importance, we know from the Scriptures, that God, (who
seeth not as man seeth,) judges very differently, and regards them
with special distinction, claiming them as His in a peculiar rela-
tion.
That which in this passage deserves your particular notice, be-
cause it marks the genuine import of the whole, is that the peo-
ple of God are said emphatically to be His saints. It is true in-
deed that the earth is the Lords, and the fulness thereof. He says
(Ezek. 18:4.) "Behold all souls are mine"— yet there is a sense: —
very peculiar and precious; — in which the saints and they only are
His people. It is that sense in which property is put for appro-
bation, affection, delight and covenant relation. In many instan-
ces, and in various respects, is this appropriating language applied
by the Lord in his word, to those who truly love, fear, and obey
Him. According to these, they are His in the everlasting purpose
of His love: — they are His by the purchase of the Redeemer's
F
42
blood: — they are His by the efficacious influences of His grace: —
they are His by their own voluntary choice, and covenant engage-
ment devoting themselves to His service: — they are His as He be-
comes the present and everlasting portion of their souls. It is in
consequence of this relation that God orders all things for their
good; bringing all events of His providence to subserve their ben-
efit as well as His own glory. "All things are theirs &c. (1 Cor.
3:21-22.)
The saints of God are nevertheless, mortal and dying. They
must go the way of all flesh. This is heavens righteous, and we
may add, gracious decision. Death though at first laid as a curse
upon man, is through God's mercy converted into a blessing to-
ward His people, and becomes an event desirable from its conse-
quences resulting in everlasting life, glory and blessedness. To
him who feels "I would not live alway," this termination of earth-
ly sorrows and sins: — this introduction to the bliss of heaven, is
an event deeply interesting. And the Psalmist so regarding it,
selects it from the catalogue of benefits which he might have re-
cited, fixes his eye solely on this article, and exclaims "Precious
in the sight of the Lord is the death of His saints." He does this
not from its exclusive character, but because from some circum-
stance it then arrested his attention; and for a similar reason we
now dwell upon it as the theme of our discourse.
I will endeavor to show briefly that the death of His saints is
precious in the sight of the Lord: —
1. In respect to its time.
2. In regard to its circumstances.
3. In reference to its consequences.
The truths which I propose to exhibit, though exceedingly im-
portant, are so plain and undeniable to all who believe in a partic-
ular providence, and the declarations of God's word, as to leave
no room for doubt. It becomes me, then, rather to furnish mat-
ter for serious and profitable meditation than consume the short
time in unnecessary reasoning or superfluous illustration.
1. The death of His saints is precious in the sight of the Lord
in respect to its time.
All events are at the disposal of the righteous Governor of the
Universe. Every hair of our head is numbered, and not a sparrow
falleth to the ground without our heavenly father (Luke 12: 6.) —
He hath determined the times, and the bounds of every man's
habitation. (Acts 17: 26.) Whether men be therefore the friends
43
or foes of God, their life while it continues is upheld by Him, and
their death, when it happens, takes place by His permission and
direction. But there is an important difference; and the christian
may say with a special propriety, in the language of the Psalmist,
(31-15,) "My times are in thy hand." Those who are God's child-
ren have the present and comfortable assurance that He watcheth
over them with a fatherly care, and that all things shall work to-
gether for their good (Rom. 8: 28.) Their life will be prolonged
so far as they themselves, if they were fully enlightened, would
ever wish for its continuance; and their death will be ordered at
the most seasonable time that infinite wisdom can devise. Though
ignorant themselves, and unfit to make a choice, their whole des-
tiny is in the hands of an omniscient, gracious father; and infinite
wisdom, combined with infinite goodness, is engaged to choose for
them, the very bestperiod for their departure from the world. Here
faith rests in confidence.
While God has a work for His servants to perform; — while He
judges that their continuance here will conduce to their real and
ultimate benefit, He will effectually protect them from the assaults
of death however formidable. They are immortal till their work
is done. The methods of preservation are various but calculated
to secure the object. The most absolute determinations of God
do not supercede, but include in them, the operation of second
causes. Therefore the truly pious man makes it his business un-
der a confidence in God's care, to be in the diligent and constant
use of every suitable and lawful means for the preservation of his
life, and then steadfastly to pursue the path of duty, and cheer-
fully to commit the event to God, who will never fail to preserve
him until the fittest time for his dissolution be fully come. (Job
14:14.)
It follows too, that when this period has really arrived, the^ath-
er of mercies will surely take His children to Himself, however in-
auspicious the time may seem to human eye, however reluctantly
those who remain may yield to the dispensation, however fondty
they may have hoped, and however fervently have prayed, that
it might be otherwise. All true prayer is made with the qualifica-
tion "Not as I will, but as thou wilt."
God alone is the proper judge when it is the most fit and con-
venient to remove His children to the mansions of eternal rest. —
The order of His providence in this respect is various. Some-
times even to our eye, ignorant, short-sighted and selfish as we
44
are, there seems a propriety in the time which God appoints, but
more frequently this is hidden from our view. The eminently
pious, and those with great prospects of usefulness are sometimes
seen to take their departure at an early age. Many persons of
distinguished abilities and religion are cut off, in what appears to
man's eye, the midst of their years. Of this we have most affect-
ing instances. The dispensation may be mysterious and beyond
our ability now to explain. "What I do thou knowest not now,
but thou shalt know hereafter. (John 13: 7.) God's thoughts are
not ours, but they are infinitely higher and better. He may take
away the righteous from the evil to come. He may intend to
teach us that He needs not the instrument, which we esteem the
most suitable to do his work. He may do it to instruct us that
we should enter upon our fondest endeavors even for the promo-
ting of His glory with entire resignation to His disposal, and the
lively recollection that we may not be permitted to finish our de-
signs, so that what we sow another may reap. He may design
and make it the means of more extensive and permanent good to
the living than all their labors would have been; to teach to sur-
vivers the duty of submission to His will, and perhaps convince
them in the result, how unprepared they are to practice it. Or
he may purpose thereby to accomplish some great and blessed
end which we do not .now think of, and which shall only be re-
vealed to us in the light of heaven. But, whatever may be His
design in regard to the living, we know that in all such cases the
dead receive an unspeakably precious benefit. Their anxieties
and labors on earth are happily exchanged for an eternal repose
and triumph in heaven.
2. We shall now consider, somewhat more directly, what has
already been in a measure anticipated, that the death of His saints
is precious in the sight of the Lord, in regard to its circumstances.
We have indeed, my brethren, no assurance that the circum-
stances which surround the death of the good man shall be such
as are most desirable to our natural feelings. It may be in ways
most trying and dismaying. But the promise on which the be-
liever trusts is "My grace is sufficient for thee, for my strength is
made perfect in weakness," (2 Cor. 12: 9.) and the truth of this
he. will not fail to experience, no matter what the circumstances
which accompany his exit from life.
"Sure the last end
Of the good man is peace. How calm his exit,
Night dews fall not more gently to the ground,
Nor weary worn out winds expire so soft'*
45
Some are called out of time into eternity in an easy and gradual
manner; in other instances the vital cord is suddenly cut or snapt
asunder. In the departure of some the pillow of death is smooth-
ed and softened by a thousand alleviations — kindred, family and
friends left in health, wealth and safety, and placed in circum-
stances of the most comfortable and desirable kind, and the last
farewell is taken without a distressing thought concerning their
future. ' In other cases how different ! The loved ones they
leave behind may be sick and helpless, without the prospect of
earthly support, exposed to suffering and without religion; the
good man, even in his last moments, cannot but have many an
anxious care for their future comfort and their eternal welfare.
In spiritual as well as temporal respects there is also a variety
attending the death-bed of christians, which by no means at first
view seems to be encouraging. Here one chooses for him wiser
than himself, and infinitely regardful of his welfare, but who often
keeps hidden the reasons of His choice. Some truly have such
elear and animating views of their interest in the Saviour, and of
the glorious state on which they are about to enter, that they die
in transport and triumph. Death then is the most desirable event
that they ever contemplated. Some though wanting in these
exhilarating cordials to the soul, have yet a firm and unshaken
confidence in God's favor, and a pleasing prospect of the future.
Some are merely composed and tranquil. Some vibrate between
hope and fear. Some perhaps are surprised into heaven, when
they scarcely dared to expect it; their sun set under a dark and
gloomy cloud: and some awake and find themselves there after a
delirium or a torpor which had benumbed or suspended the
powers of the soul.
Do you ask: If there be such a variety in this most interesting
concern, and especially if such distresses are suffered by God's
people, at the time of their decease: How can it be that all the
circumstances of it are precious in His sight, and ordered in His
mercy ? This is my answer: God seeth not as man seeth. He
has infinitely wise and gracious reasons for all these allotments,
though He may not see fit to display them to us. His benevo-
lence is not a weak and changeable pity. "Were it so, and did it
yield to all the desires and feelings even of His own children,
some of them would scarcely enter into their rest at all. They
are often seen "clinging, in the weakness of their faith, with the
greatest tenacity to the world, and their Heavenly Father is
46
obliged to force them away — to force them to be happy. In the
variety which takes place in regard to dying comforts, infinite
wisdom has doubtless kind purposes to answer, which we at pres-
ent are unable to discern, and utterly unfit to appreciate. Yet
this one thing we may know and that most surely, that God takes
special care that all these circumstances are regulated by infinite
love, for their final and greater benefit.
But how evidently, even to our imperfect vision, have; in the
case of our departed brother, the circumstances been ordered as
precious in the sight of the Lord. What more befitting than at
the close of a quarter century of active and successful labor: —
when the congratulatory salutations had just passed between him
and his people; after the celebrating of that anniversary which
had been so earnestly anticipated, and so pleasantly enjoyed. —
And when, too, with the feelings which disposed him to say "now
lettest thou thy servant depart in peace," and, as it were, the
strong presentiment, more than once expressed that his work was
perhaps closed: — and which induced him to say, after preaching,
on the last Sabbath, "How becoming if the Master should now
take me home." — And then those sermons, which were his last,
so interesting, so instructive, so appropriate if he had known
surely that they were to be the last; giving his pastoral benedic-
tion, "Peace be unto you," (John 20: 19) and the admonition of
his last charge. "Occupy till I come." (Luke 19: 13.) How fit !
How beautiful !
And in all the Lord was very gracious. God did not suddenly
or violently break the ties which bound him to earth. There
was a preparation for it. He looked from the beginning of his
illness that he should go hence; and he was ready. He could
and did look calmly, even in all his uneasiness, oppression and
pain, upon the approach of death. It had no terrors to him. In
regard to his views in the earlier part of his sickness, he said. —
Though I have not those bright and joyful feelings which I wish,
yet "I know in whom I have believed," &c. But these views
grew brighter and brighter, till he said "almost home, brother,
almost home; to-morrow I shall spend in heaven." And then so
desired and triumphant a death in such happy circumstances,
made it almost like the chariots of Israel and the horsemen thereof
to this dear servant of the Lord.
What desirable surroundings were these ! How peaceful and
happy an exit from this dark world of sin ! The sun has gone
4T
down beyond the western hill in its glorious effulgence; and in
the calm sweetness of the summer's evening, the bright radiance
of its setting beams sheds roseate hues on all the sky, even on the
light clouds behind, which hover over.
But is this all, and are its rays now quenched forever? No. —
If a man die, shall he live again ? Yes. An immortal life is
brought to light in the gospel of Christ. This is not the end.
3. We are most certainly assured that the death of His saints is
precious in the sight of the Lord with reference to all its conse-
quences.
To this, no doubt, the Psalmist had a principal view in the
words before us. Precious indeed, indescribably precious, will
be the issues of death, which a faithful and loving God will bring
about to all His people. And is not this the main consideration?
Often does the solemn scene, or the circumstances attending it,
become an opportunity to survivors, friends and others, tending to
their conversion or sanctification as well as the honor of religion.
And this precious effect is not to be overlooked. But we speak
particularly of its result to the saint himself. "As it is written,
eye hath not seen, nor ear heard, neither have entered into the
heart of man, the things which God hath prepared for them that
love Him." (1 Cor. 2: 9.) It will take an eternity, my friends,
fully to learn what are the riches of the inheritance of the saints
in light. There is scarce time to glance at this as revealed in the
gospel.
Here we learn that one of the precious consequences of their
death is an immediate cessation from all sorrows. "God shall
wipe away all tears from their eyes." (Rev. 7: 17.) No more shall
trouble or anxiety disturb their peaceful breast. — To be entirely
free from the remainder of sin is another of the happy conse-
quences of death to the saints. The soul rises pure and spotless
to God and the mansions of holiness, never again to be infected
with sin or even vexed by temptations. Here, too, it is admitted
to the immediate vision of God, and of the Lamb. Neither is the
rest which remaineth for the people of God an inactive and inglo-
rious one, but all their powers enlarged and purified, shall be
employed with delightful constancy in obedience and praise. —
And as we have reason to believe that all the capacities of the
soul will be not only preserved, but extended and invigorated, it
is pleasing to think how memory will be employed in the man-
sions in heaven, in retracing, with wonder and glad surprise, the
48
past scenes of life. How different will then appear to the saint,
in the light of eternity, the things of time. He will review with
astonishment his unreasonable fears, groundless apprehensions,
his unbelief, want of confidence in God, and misapprehensions'of
His dispensations. Ah ! how will he discover with gratitude the
kind designs of a faithful God in all the scenes of life, and the
circumstances of death: — even in those events which while on
earth appeared most inexplicable; — and a light will then glow
around those places here dark to his mind, which will transport
his soul with grateful joy, and raise the notes of his praise, in the
fulness of divine love, towards him a sinner.
The creation of God appears to be in all its parts a system of
gradation and subordination. There are different orders of
angels, and there will be, as we gather from • scripture, different
orders of saints. But this, where the will of the Lord, the sover-
eign, is the only fountain of happiness, will give greater delight
to all, and in no respect diminish it in any. All will perceive
and rejoice in the reasons of this distinction. Those who have
labored, and loved, and sacrificed, and suffered much, in the cause
of God, will be greatly distinguished. While a cup of cold water
given to a disciple, in the name of a disciple, shall not pass with-
out its reward; he that converteth a sinner from the error of his
ways shall be more highly honored; and they that have turned
many to righteousness shall shine as the stars for ever and ever.
(Dan. 12: 3.) Faithful ministers of God's word, who have worn
out their lives in His service, and have passed away whether
earlier or later, will appear as stars of the first magnitude in the
heaven of unfading glory. Precious in the sight of the Lord is
the death of His saints, in these happy results.
In the language of a modern poet, who sings "the Course of
time and final doom of man."
"Oh who can speak his praise ! great, humble man !
He in the current of destruction stood
And warned the sinner of his woe; led on
Immanuel's members, in the evil day;
And, with the everlasting arms embraced
Himself around, stood in the dreadful front
Of battles, high, and warred victoriously
With death and hell. And now has come his rest,
His .triumph day. And round him gathered, clad
In white, the vouchers of his ministry —
The flock, his care had nourished, fed and saved.
Illustrious, like the sun,
In that assembly, he, shining from far,
Most excellent in glory, stands assured, .
Waiting the promised crown, the promised throne,
40
The welcome and approval of liLs Lord.
The faithful minister ofQod: —
where be walks on yonder mount, that lifts
It-* summit high, on the right hand of bliss,
Sublime in glory, talking with "his peers
Of the incarnate Saviour's love, and past
Affliction lost in present joy ! See how
His face with heavenly ardor glows, and how
His hand enraptured strikes the golden lyre !
As now conversing of the Lamb, once slain
He speaks — of conflicts o'er and glorious victories
Achieved through faith."
I see him there,
• Our brother, pastor, friend so well beloved,
Joining the glorious throng in praise of God.
Yes, among them, that dear departed one who so lately filled
this place, we doubt not now stands. And what remains for us
is seriously and gratefully to record that grace of God which made
him what he was on earth, and then removed him hence to
Heaven. Time will not permit, did my abilities warrant it, and
the materials allow, more than to give an imperfect sketch of the
life and character of the departed pastor of this church. But to
those who knew him so well, it is almost superfluous for me to
testify of his worth; the piety and single purpose of his life, and
the earnest and conscientious discharge of his ministerial duties.
The Rev. Henry G. Comingo was born near Harrodsburg, Ky.,
on the 2d of February, 1809. He was descended from a pious
ancestry, originally from Holland, but more recently emigrating
from ]Sew York to Kentucky. His grandparents, with others
of the same stock, seem to have come to that vicinity as a colony,
with their minister of the Reformed Dutch church, the Rev. Mr.
Labagh, and a place of worship was erected by them, (known for
some reason as the Mud Meeting House.) But the minister hav-
ing returned to the East, and no one succeeding him, the church
organization fell into decay, and the condition of things was unfa-
vorable to the piety of the survivors, who did not readily enter
into other church relations.
The parents of Mr. C. did not make a profession of religion
until after that he had. His education was rather moral, than
religious. He was their eldest child, and his uniting with the
church made such an impression on their minds that they soon
became members also. The rest of the family seem to have fol-
lowed the religious inclination which was given to him, when he
made a profession of religion in the Presbyterian church. At
what particular date this was made, or under what circumstances,
G
50
we are not informed; but it was under the ministry of the excel-
lent and talented Cleland, whom he ever held in the highest
regard; and probably when he was not more than 18 years of age.
Soon after becoming a professed follower of Christ, Mr.
Comingo felt a strong desire and call to the ministry, and wished
to enter upon a course of study preparatory to that work. Though
he met with no countenance then, from Mb parents, but the con-
trary, yet God raised up other friends to encourage and aid him
in this excellent desire; especially Judge Green, of Danville, in
whose family he resided during his college course. Of his early
religious history we have no particular account, nor of the cir-
cumstances of his entering college, or how long he was a student
there. It was several years. At Danville he commenced and
completed his course. He was a diligent student, universally
esteemed for his kindness of heart and devoted piety. He grad-
uated at Centre College in 1832, with much credit, receiving the
appointment of delivering the valedictory to his class; not so much
on account of superiority to others in scholarship, as a com-
pliment paid to his diligence in study, his estimable character
generally, and his abilities as an earnest, pathetic speaker.*
While at College his whole walk and demeanor was exemplary;
and he exerted a tine christian influence upon all with whom he
was associated, whether religious or not. Though standing well
in his class, he was chiefly eminent for his decided and consistent
piety, and his kind and genial disposition and manners. He was
always ready to take part in meetings for social worship, and for
every good work. His religion was of a sound, substantial and
earnest character, that commanded the respect of the most thought-
less students; and it was, at the same time, of a cheerful and
attractive kind, in the reality of which all had confidence. His
vacations were spent in Bible distribution in destitute regions, in
visiting and addressing Sabbath Schools, in holding prayer meet-
ings, exhorting, delivering lectures on temperance, and such other
services as might be useful: while it was always manifest that his
aim was to glorify God in efforts to lead men to lives of piety. —
Such was his christian character, that from the time of his profes-
sion, none who were acquainted with him, even for a little season,
had need to ask if he was a member of the church. His life was
a living epistle. (2 Cor. 3: 2, 3.)
After his graduation, he was appointed a Tutor in the College
* I give the testimony of cotemporaries.
51
at Danville, where lie taught with rmich acceptance for the ensu-
ing year or perhaps longer. In the Spring of 1834 he went on to
Princeton, to attend the Theological Seminary. While there his
character, and course, and standing, was similar to that at College.
He was a favorite with the Professors, and with the better class
of students. While attending the Seminary he was licensed to
preach by the Presbytery of New Brunswick, Feb. 3, 1836. He
remained, however, to the close of his course of theological studies;
and in the succeeding Autumn came to Steubenville, under the
following circumstances.
In consequence of the ill-health of the then pastor' of this church,
he had tendered his resignation in the Fall of 1835. This was
declined, but the congregation agreed to employ an asststant, and
for this purpose called Mr. E. T. McLean, who, after preaching a
few months, — when about to be ordained in the Spring of 1836,
was seized with such symptoms of pulmonary disease, as made
necessary his immediate removal to a southern climate, greatly to
the regret of this people. Mr. McLean had been a fellow student
of Mr. Comingo, both at College and the Seminary, and spoke
favorably of him as a suitable successor. In the course of the
Autumn, having it suggested to him by the venerable Dr. Miller,
and an invitation having been extended to him to visit the church,
and spend some time as an assistant to the pastor, he came in
November, and preached during the winter. f
Mr. Comingo was then a young man just from his theological
studies; but he made a most favorable impression, especially by
his agreeable manners, and his earnestness and devotedness to
his work. He entered upon his ministry, with a zeal for his mas-
ter's cause, and the conversion of sinners, which suffered no dim-
inution for the twenty-five years that he continued among us. It
was not long before he began to see the blessing of the Lord, in
the baptism of the Holy Ghost, and the ingathering of souls, as
the fruit of his labors.
On the same day that this congregation agreed to accept my
resignation as pastor, it was voted to call Mr. Comingo, as my suc-
cessor. At the stated Spring meeting, (April 4th,) the Presbytery
having first acted upon the pastor's resignation, immediately
received and handed over the call to Mr. Comingo, who had just
been received from the Presbytery of New Brunswick; and he,
having aceepted the same, was ordained and installed pastor, on
the 24th May, 1857.
•
52
Mr. (Jomingo was an industrious and successful minister; and
eminently a man of faith and prayer. Though during his whole
course scrupulously diligent and faithful in the discharge of all
duties as a pastor, he had a felt and deep consciousness that with-
out the Divine blessing all his labors would be in vain. Hence
his earnest, fervent, wrestling prayers with God, not only in
public, as you often heard them, but in private, — for the power of
the Holy Spirit. And that blessing was, again and again, vouch-
safed to the people of his charge.
A particular review of his pastorate having been so recently
and so fully made on his 25th anniversary, it will not be repeated.
In the year 1855, Mr. C.'s health being seriously impaired, he was
induced to take a voyage to Europe. This did not, at first, pro-
duce the beneficial results expected; and in view of his protracted
absence, and gloomy prospects of health, as well as on account of
discouraging accounts of his congregation received, he was led to
tender his resignation: this the people, with great unanimity and
cordiality, refused to accept. He returned in the early part of
1856, apparently with recovered health, and entered upon his
duftes again, with renewed earnestness and ability. But it is
doubtful whether he ever was so well as previously. There seemed
a weakening of the chest, which appeared in greater liability to
colds and affections of the throat and breast. Occasionally some
among the people complained of his frequent absences from home:
yet they couid not know the need which he had for recreation,
and for the recuperation of those powers, which were run down
by the unabated diligence with which, when at home, he per-
formed all his pastoral duties.
How these duties were done, you, my dear friends, well know.
For twenty-five years he had broken to this congregation the
bread of life, and gone in and out before them in all the sweet
relations of a pastor to his flock; — uniting them in marriage, bap-
tizing their little ones, and some of these same lambs of the flock
in after years admitting to the full communion of the church, con-
versing with the anxious, directing inquirers to the cross, watch-
ing at the sick bed, and whispering peace to the dying, burying
the dead, consoling in sorrow: — weeping with those that wept,
and rejoicing with those that rejoiced: all with an earnest fidelity
and devotedness of soul, in true sympathy, as you have known
and experienced; but which I truly tell you is rarely equalled, still
less excelled even among the best ministers of our church. And
53
all because it was a service of love, from his whole heart lie loved
his work and his people as men seldom love: and this was felt,
and expressed even in his d}'ing hours.
But his twenty-five years of ministerial work were now com-
pleted. He had looked forward to its anniversary with desire,
and he enjoyed it greatly as the spontaneous act of a beloved
people. Little did they imagine in presenting him with a token
of their affection for a pastor of so long standing, that, as one well
said, they were anointing him for his burial, and that the hand-
some apparel presented to him for his service in the sanctuary,
would be so soon the habiliments of the grave. "Against the
day of his burial, they had done this. (John 12: 7.) It was not
our expectation: — but all was fully known to Him, who seeth the
end, even from the very beginning.
That week was to him one of great enjoyment; especially as he
rejoiced with others, yet it was with a subdued and chastened
spirit, as though it was the last. On the Sabbath I was so happy
as to have heard those two discourses with which he wound up
his ministry among you, and to which I have before alluded. He
was not well then, though the first serious symptoms of his disease
did not appear till Monday. "When it came, it was a most violent
attack, and soon beyond the reach of medical aid. Such was
God's ordering. He sank rapidly, though without losing streDgth
of body or mind, retaining his faculties even to the close of life,
and able to converse, though not very audibly or easily, until the
very last.
From the first he anticipated the results; and said he should not
recover; but he cheerfully acquiesced in the Divine will, looking
to a speedy admission to his father's house in heaven. Towards
the last he not only expressed a desire to depart, yes, that he
would rejoice to be gone; but that it would be a great disappoint-
ment to him, if he should not go: and that he was afraid indeed
that he was impatient to be released and be at rest.
He had no anxiety about those whom he left behind him. "I
know," said he, "that the Lord will abundantly provide for my
wife and children." Though not in the beginning enjoying those
bright views and hopes which he longed for: — there was no fear,
no doubt; but a calm and tranquil frame. "I know," said he, "in
whom I have believed, and that he is able to keep that which I
have committed to him." But his views gained brightness and
joyousness every day and almost every hour, until he could say to
;>4
one, not only pleasantly but triumphantly — " Almost home,
brother, almost home. To-morrow I shall be in heaven."
It would be impossible to repeat all or much of what he said to
those present, or the messages sent to friends, some of whom he
expected would follow him at no distant time. He talked mucji,
and seemed anxious to speak to all about him, his mind being
active, elevated and happy; and often asked his brethren to pray
with him, and them and others to sing.
Of himself he said, "I have been a poor miserable ainner, but
God has been merciful, very merciful. I have been unfaithful,
but God has graciously owned my labors."
Often did he remember, and much and tenderly did he speak
of his congregation. To one of the elders he said very earnestly,
when speaking of the selection of another pastor, (and it was
equally a charge to all his people,) — "Do not be hasty." Pray very
faithfully and a great deal over it. Let the Lord choose for you.
And then he himself followed with a prayer that the Lord would
choose and send a pastor, after his own heart — one that would
win souls to Christ. To another he said: "Give my love to my
people, my dear, dear people; my first and only love." And again:
"My dear congregation. I did not know how much I loved them.
Tell them how much I love them. They have been very kind to
me, ever since I have been with them, bearing with my faults and
shortcomings. Ask them to forgive me, if I have wronged any
one of them, in any wise; and I do freely forgive any who have
wronged me, I entirely forgive them all." And then he sent his
messages to those who have continued impenitent. "Tell them,
from their pastor's dying bed, to give their hearts unreservedly to
Jesus. Oh, why will they reject my Saviour."
Though the night gathered round, it was light in his soul. As
he neared the eternal world, visions of heaven seemed to break in
upon him. "I shall awake" said he "in Christ's likeness. Oh,
precious thought, to be like Jesus. To-morrow is the first Sab-
bath of December, and I shall spend it in heaven."
"0, glorious hour ! O, blest abode !
I shall be near, and like my God."
And so it was to be — the next morning — the morning of the
holy, blessed Sabbath: — about half past six o'clock, — just as the
day was breaking: — his spirit passed away, from earth to heaven.
"And I heard a voice from heaven saying unto me, Write,
Blessed are the dead, which die in the Lord, from henceforth; yea,
16
Math the Spirit, that they may rest from their labors, and their
works do follow them." (Rev. 14: 13.)
It is exceedingly difficult and delicate to speak, on such an occa-
sion as this, in a truly becoming manner, faithfully yet modestly,
of the character and worth of a departed pastor. The language
of eulogy, which the personal feelings of the speaker might dic-
tate, and the affectionate regards of a sorrowing congregation
expects, would perhaps be displeasing in the sight of that Holy
One, who will not give his glory to another. Yet as our beloved
brother often said, and always practiced, we should never speak
ill of the absent; — least of all of the dead. Surely in this-
time of our grief we cannot even remember faults in the departed:
and he himself would be the readiest to attribute every excellence
to divine grace. We desire to avoid every excess, and to utter,,
in sobriety, such things as are true and faithful.
Having, then, narrated briefly some events of his life, let us-
proceed, in this spirit, to speak of the tiaits of his character as a.
man, as a christian, and as a minister of the gospel.
The first thing which strikes us in considering him, as a man,
was the geniality of his temper: his happy, cheerful and cheering
nature; his winning manner of intercourse in life. There was
something in his first approaches even to a stranger, so open, so
frank, so hearty: — as to make a most favorable impression, and
gain an access and a confidence which was very unusual. It was;
remarkable, not only in reference to the general mass of mankind,,
to whom affability is a virtue, which always gives an introductions
but to those higher and more exclusive sets, which stand upon
ceremony, yet which were favorably impressed with the ardor of
his nature and the heartiness of his manner. And one reason for
this with them was, that it always was connected with the gentle-
manly bearing of one who had such a self-reliance as never to be
thrown into awkwardness or embarrassment; and yet so much
true modesty as never to be chargeable with obtrusiveness. Accus-
tomed to gooti society, he always felt at home in such, and made-
himself acceptable and interesting. And by the amiableness of
his general deportment, and the urbanity of his manners, ho
retained what he had gained on his first approaches.
He was a scholar from education, and the cultivation of his;
mind; not profound or professional, but varied and expansive; and
his stores of information were always so at his command, as to be-
upon all proper occasions ready for use, to himself and others; the
56
great advantage for which learning is valuable. Not a student, in
the exclusive sense, yet who made himself somewhat acquainted
with almost every subject, and could and did bring the powers of
his mind to bear more fully upon those topics which he deemed
of greater importance to his work, and standing in society. As
a tribute of respect to his talents, his acquirements, and his char-
acter, the College at Danville conferred on him the honorary title
of Doctor of Divinity, about two or three years ago.
He loved society, and shone in it; with a fine flow of spirits
himself, he inspired life to all about him; cheerful and compan-
ionable, he drew forth the conversational powers of others. As
one well said, he had a peculiar and happy faculty of extracting
the gold and sunshine from every thing. His temperament was
ardent, and ifc was carried into all his modes of thinking, speaking
and acting. It was readily seen and felt that he was a man of
impulse, but to those who knew him it was most evident that
these impulses though warm were generous; and though in the
heat of his sentiments and feelings his impetuosity sometimes
hurried him to expressions and actions from which a calculating
judgment would have preserved him, yet behind and under-
neath there were no feelings of' bitterness or malignity. Never
did he appear desirous or even willing, by word or deed, to injure
a human being. He did not cautiously guard himself against
misapprehension by others, because he was unsuspecting himself;
and anxious not to give offence to any, he was never ready to take
offence at the banter of another. His wit was never severe or sar-
castic, but playful ; provocative of spirited and pleasant reply, but
not of anger or pain of heart. Indeed, such was the natural kind-
ness of his disposition, or that gracious charity which thinketh no
evil, that he could not bear to hear ill spoken of another, and was
hopeful in thought and word even of the doubtful. He readily
recollected the good in the character and course of others, and
was prompt with the most favorable construction, sanguine for
good — but if faults came to his memory they were seldom per-
mitted to gain body from his lips. Finally, he was remarkably
free from every manifestation of selfishness, and from all that was
mean, narrow, vulgar or contracted.
We might further consider him as the affectionate husband, the
kind father, the good neighbor, the warm hearted and fast friend,
the patriotic citizen, and as always carrying with him, into all
companies, the amenities of social life. Indeed, on one point, as
.>!
a friend, true, firm and constant, as wcli as a companion and asso-
ciate, my personal feelings tempt me strongly to expatiate — yet I
forbear. Few men had more true friends and warm friends — all
over the country — than Henry G. Comingo.
On one thing I remark for a moment: It was his intense interest
for his country in the present crisis. He was not only a loyal and
faithful citizen, but a patriot in the truest sense of that word, as
it is a part of religion; sympathizing deeply in the distraction and
distresses of his country; never hesitating to designate the course
of the rebels against the Government, as most wicked and flagi-
tious; and especially mourning over those of his friends and
acquaintance who had cast in their lot with the Southern Confed-
eracy. To the last moment of his life he watched with painful
solicitude the dark cloud which had gathered over us as a nation.
His most constant and earnest prayers were for his country's wel-
fare; for in God was his trust. He was deeply oppressed with a
view of the future, and among his last earnest outcries upon his
dying bed — was "Oh, my country! my country, my poor country!
what is to become of it ?"
In the second place, I delight to speak of his character as a
christian. With all his other excellencies, even as a man, which
seemed largely to partake of and flow from christian feeling; I
have ever been in the habit, both in thought and word, of placing,
in the very forefront, his religious character. From the first of
my acquaintance with him I was convinced that he was a man of
God, and from this conviction never wavered. His religion,
though partaking of the natural temperament as a man, and both
of them modifying, somewhat, the other, was nevertheless a vital
principle in his heart, influencing all the springs of feeling,
thought and action. This was evident, not so much from any
profession of it by the lips, for our brother was not wont to speak
often or at large of his own experiences, or exercises of mind,
either present or past, except as they seemed to come up in the
course of general remark; but there was in this a spontaniety
which evinced that it flowed from the abundance of a heart im-
bued with divine light and love; and this was sustained by that
course of consistent conduct, and natural flow of pious sentiments,
which showed that he lived near to God. "We have but little
knowledge of the inner life and workings of divine grace in his
own soul, except what was casually manifested, and yet this was
so constant, and unforced, as clearly to show us where his heart
H
58
Was, and where his communings had been. His piety was scrip-
tural, evangelical, experimental, actuating and regular. Usually
it was -cheeeful, hopeful and happy; though occasionally he woulc^
have his dark and even desponding hours, (more on account of
his church and his labors than his own hope,) and these were
lightened by his habit and resource of prayer. I mean secret and
devotional prayer; and those who have marked his unusual unc-
tion in this exercise in public, cannot doubt that he gained it by
his intimate converse with God in the closet.
His religion was not professional, or occasional, but a sincere
and constant, living and actuating principle; as was evident to all
those who came most nearly in contact with him; for it was always
there; continually beaming forth in words and deeds which had
their vitalizing source, evidently, in the love of God, and love of
souls.
He was a man of faith. He had great confidence in God. The
promises of the Scripture, and the grace of the Saviour, were the
foundations upon which he built his hope, not only for his own
salvation, but of others — for the church — his country — the world.
Another characteristic of his Christianity was its catholicity. —
Firmly attached as he was to his own church, and to its doctrines
and worship, after an intelligent consideration of them, yet there
was nothing in his feelings narrow, intolerant or bigotted. He
embraced, in the arms of his christian affection, all whom he
thought Christ's true disciples, wherever found, and he was very
ready and easy to find them. He had no feeling which would
confine his christian charities to the pale of his own denomination,
but had a hand and heart open to all; feeling a deep interest in
the prosperity of God's work under whatever denominational
form it was carried forward, and especially interested in the vari-
ous churches in this place, uniting with them in all good works,,
most readily and cordially.
It only remains to me to speak of Dr. Comingo, as a Minister of
the Gospel. For this office he had always a high regard, and
thought no one should enter It but one called of God in his prov-
idence and by his Spirit; and who did not devote himself wholly
to it. From the beginning of his christian life, this was his own
thought, and this his purpose. He had laid a foundation for the
due exercise of its functions in a thorough preparation, both col-
legiate and theological, and to its duties he brought his whole
ieart and soul, and devoted all "his resources. Higher than to be
59
an able and faithful minister of the Lord Jesus, he had no aspira-
tions, and because he felt that there was no higher calling. He
then gave himself fully to this work, deeming that as it filled his
heart, so it might till his hands. His learning various, if not pro-
found, was all made subservient to his office; and he only desired
to enrich his mind, and increase his attainments, that he might be
better qualified to discharge all its multiform duties.
As a preacher, there was a very remarkable combination of his
characteristics as a man and a christian, and the employment of
them in his work. These peculiarities were clearly distinguisha-
ble in his labors; especially his ardent temperament; earnest man-
ner, and sanguine hopefulness. His great and constant aim, in
preaching the gospel, was to win souls to Christ. For this purpose
he put forth all his power. He was unequal in his efforts, and
those most labored were not always t|ie most successful. Indeed
it was not abroad, but at home, among his own people, that he
appeared the best. His forte was, not in argumentation, much
less controversial or even doctrinal discourses, but in warm and
pungent addresses to the heart and conscience. He was fully in-
structed in the system of theology, and was never wanting in the
presentment, full and plain, of the great truths of evangelical re-
ligion, yet this was rather incidental and unavoidable, than regu-
lar and systematic, and only, or principally, as it subserved his
great design, through the understanding to reach the inward
springs of emotion and action. Hence his style and manner,
characterized by great affection, was, with occasional exceptions
only, rather hortatory than didactic. His warm sympathetic heart,
combining with the love of perishing souls, gave a peculiar ten-
derness and emotional tone to his pleadings with sinners, and his
presentations of Christ to the awakened. Christ, as his own
Saviour, he ardently desired to have formed in the hearts of all
his hearers as the hope of glory; upon which theme he was never
weary of dwelling. And then his prayers — his soul breathing
and soul affecting prayers — who of us has not felt their moving influ-
ence upon his soul ?
God had given him a dignified and commanding presence, and
a voice clear, easily inflected, and in its higher modulations and
more earnest tones, exceedingly thrilling; and then his whole
body, as well as soul, seemed working in the utterance of those
addresses, which he made to his hearers, on the great interests of
their salvation. All of you know the power of his graphic de-
60
ecriptions of the sinner's doom, and have felt the earnestness and
overwhelming force of those eloquent appeals which he made to
the impenitent, to turn from his way to the Saviour. And this
impressed his heart even at the last, when he sent his message. — •
"Tell them from their dying pastor's bed to give their hearts, un-
reservedly, to Jesus. Oh! why will they reject my Saviour!" and
to the messenger, "Live near the cross, dear brother," said he. —
"Labor earnestly for the salvation of souls. That is the great
thing."
But it was his desire, and design, to declare to men the whole
counsel of God; to keep back nothing which was profitable to the
spiritual interests of his people. And this reminds me, of that
which was most evident, that however much he felt for the con-
version of the world, the salvation of sinners in general, yet his
heart and interest circled round the people of his charge, with a
peculiar force. They had been particularly and solemnly com-
mitted to his care; and he expected to account for them in the
great day. He was pre-eminently their pastor. He loved his
charge with a special love. His very affection at times made him
unhappy. "When difficulties and misunderstandings arose among,
and with them, and some did not manifest that regard for him
which he desired and longed for, he was jealous of their affection,
and thought they did not appreciate and sympathize with him, as
they might, and should. The difficulties with, and coldness of
any among his people, was to him the occasion of the sharpest
pain and discouragement which he ever felt; and this because he
had given to them all his heart.
And then, not only in the pulpit, but especially in family visita-
tion and personal address on the subject of religion, how happy
and successful was he. There was a most enviable facility and
felicity with which religious conversation was introduced or inter-
mingled with his social intercourse: — not forced, but springing
up most naturally and easily, as that which lay uppermost in his
mind and heart. This really was the secret of much of his suc-
cess; not so much or mainly from his set discourses and pulpit
exercises alone, but from these, in connection with the intercourse
of daily life, the casual observation, the constant breaking forth
of a christian influence; the leading of an awakened or serious
mind to the Saviour's love.
But I must forbear. . We might also speak of his public spirit
which made him fill an important place in the courts and councils
61
of the church, especially the Presbytery and Synod; where hi*
voice was often heard and his efforts given for the diffusion of
truth, and the building up of the Redeemer's kingdom. Here
his kindness of heart drew his brethren to him with confiding
affection. In these bodies the occasional addresses, exhortations,
and stirring appeals of brother Comingo were always highly ap-
preciated as among hh happiest efforts.
I might also refer to his hearty and earnest co-operation in the
educational efforts of "Washington College and the Western The-
ological Seminary, both of which will miss him from their Boards.
Nor can we — nor shall* we forget the interest which he felt in, and
the aid he gave to the Female Seminary at home, displayed even
to the last, when he sent his last — his dying message. "Tell the
dear girls to be good and love Jesus."
How many interests — how many circles — how many hearts will
feel his loss. But God still lives — the only sure and certain, un-
failing and everlasting stay, support, portion and' joy of the soul.
Mortal friends must die; all earthly things will pass away; the
brightest scenes below will fade; and we, ourselves, are changing
too: — But God, our God, the living God, will never, never change.
He is the same — yesterday — to-day and forever.
And now, my dear friends, in the summing up of all these
things: — our first and highest sentiment should be that of grati-
tude to God; — for such a pastor — so long continued among us,
and with so much profit: and then so delightfully — yes, I must
say, so delightfully, removed to his master's house in heaven. To
God be all the praise. It was His grace which made our brother
what he was, which was truly excellent: — it was His goodness
which prolonged his life, and continued him here, amid not a few
discouragements, for so long as to fulfill his quarter of a century,
and permitted him and you to enjoy that anniversary. And to
God's mercy and love be it ascribed, that at so befitting a time
and in such opportune circumstances, he was made to ascend
from earth to heaven in so comfortable and triumphant a manner.
"Precious in the sight of the Lord is the death of His saints." —
Once more we say, "Let God have all the praise."
In the review, while we would not forget that our brother was
a man of like passions with us, and subject to the common infirm-
ities of human nature; — that he doubtless had faults and fallings,
errors, even sins, which we do not now recall; yet we rejoice that
his life was so pure, so consistent, so lovely: — that there is nothing
62
to vitiate the sweet savor of his memory, and, so much to shed
brightness upon our review of his character and course. Blessed
he God, for our memory of the departed.
What a rich legacy has he left to his family and his friends. A
good name, rather to be chosen than great riches. (Prov. 22: 1.) —
Yes, a good name is better than precious ointment. (Eccles 7: 1.)
The example and precepts to which they can revert: and the
prayers on their behalf which he treasured up in heaven. "I can"
said he, "leave my wife and children, confidently with God."
To those of this congregation or assembly who are yet impeni-
tent, I would say that his last message was to you, "Ah, why
will they reject my Saviour ?" Oh, whyl "Would you not die
the death of the righteous ? "Would you not have your last end
like his ?" Then let the life of the righteous be yours. Turn. —
Turn to God.
And you, the members of this church; the elders — the deacons
— every communicant Shall you not so live that you may meet
your beloved pastor in the realms of light ? Live near to God. —
Neglect not the means of grace, and especially the weekly lecture,
to which he attached so much importance. Prepare to follow,
you know not how soon.
"We mourn his loss; but let us imitate his example, and apply
the lessons of his life. A voice seems to linger in this sanctuary:
and sounds from this sacred desk. "Remember the words which
I spake unto you, while I was yet with you."
Ah yes, he has gone; but it is
To sit down with the prophets, by the clear
And chrystal waters; he has gone to join
The Song of the Redeemed; and to walk
With Hoge and Hening, Hallock and the host
Of the just men, made perfect.
Already has he met with those of his charge who went before,
and as time passes on, and the rest of his beloved flock, beside
those whom he spoke of as resting in their graves, shall one by
one go up to God, he will there meet them at the gate of heaven,
and lead them to the Lamb, saying, "Here, Lord, am I, and the
children thou hast given me."
Oh, may we — all — be there.
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