The North Star (Rochester)/1848/01/14/A Standard-Bearer Has Fallen

From the New York Advocate and Guardian.
A STANDARD-BEARER HAS FALLEN.


A man of God, found faithful to his trust,
As God's ambassador, but yesterday
Was standing at his post, and words of truth
Fell from his lips with solemn earnestness,
As from a dying man to dying men.
To-day those tender tones are bushed in death!
The loved, the good, the gifted, speaks no more.
His lyre is tuned in other worlds than this;
His earthly toils all left to other bands.

The friendless and oppressed have lost a friend,
Reform in all its forms has suffered loss.
Virtue no firmer advocate e'er knew,
Her bleeding cause has few such friends to lose—
Who from the sacred altar shall arise,
To fill the breach, and utter "all the law."


From a communication received from a friend in Poughkeepsie, dated Nov. 23d, we copy the following extract:

* * * * "I presume before this you have received the sad news of the death of that truly devoted friend of the cause of moral purity, Rev. Charles Van Loon. You will, I know, pardon me for intruding so much on your time, but I felt constrained to give vent to my full heart, in penning a few lines relative to the departure of one whose loss is so deeply felt by this community, and by others. He was taken last Sabbath, just before the time for evening service, and died about 12 o'clock the same night. He preached in his usual impressive manner, on Sabbath morning, from the text, 'I am not alone, for the Father is with me.' In his closing remark upon death, he said the Christian was not alone. 'Hark,' said he, 'what voice is that I hear? It is the receding voice of the watchman just before the morn, saying, All's well, all's well. Oh, I felt as I held his cold hand while being paralyzed by the chill of death, and looked upon that beautiful face as the change of death was passing over it, if those lips could speak, they would say, 'All's well;' but that was not permitted: he was speechless from the time he was taken until the last. He was taken with paralysis, occasioned by disease of the heart, but breathed his last calmly, without a struggle, so we could hardly believe he had gone. He was to have preached in the evening from the text, 'We all do fade as a leaf,' and said, as the congregation were about leaving, 'Remember, my friends, the withered leaf will preach to you this evening.' Oh, it seemed prophetic; for how emphatically it did preach.

"But his work was done, and well done. There was no man that would so fearlessly speak the whole counsel of God, and reprove sin, all sin, as he. The people of this village can bear testimony to that. I ever felt satisfied in sitting under his ministry, that I was listening to one who made no compromises, and who would do his duty, regardless of consequences. He thought not a moment about worldly expediency, but when he heard the voice of his Master saying, 'This is the way; walk ye in it,' he conferred not with flesh and blood, but went forward. The oppresed, the fallen and exposed of every class, have lost a friend indeed. Oh, that we may be anew consecrated to that work to which he was so devoted.

"Rev. H. G. Ludlow, in an affecting manner, pronounced an eulogy upon him as a man and a Christian, and such an one as I never heard before. He said he 'was a nobleman in every sense of the word; he was truly a holy man. Never did I know a man like Charles Van Loon. May his spirit fall on us all.' He was so affected that he could hardly proceed.

"Mr. Waldo feels his loss deeply; they sympathized with each other in the moral reforms of the day, and were like brothers. While he gazed upon that lovely countenance, cold in death, it seemed as if his heart would break. We never shall look upon his like again, nor can his pulpit be filled by another like him. You will excuse my saying so much, but you know not how we loved him. His poor, afflicted widow is almost heart-broken, and a wide circle of bereaved friends will deeply mourn their loss." * * E. W.

It will be recollected that our departed brother was one of the speakers who addressed our late meeting at Troy, where address has doubtless been expected ere this in our paper. The brief notes taken of it would have been given with the proceedings of the meeting but for the fact that we relied on a personal promise received, that the address should be furnished entire for our pages. We had anticipated in reception, and feared that illness caused the delay, up to the receipt of the above painful announcement. This address contained a better, more conclusive argument in favor of legal enactments for the suppression of vice, than any we have yet beard, and appealed most persuasively to the consciences of the legislators, several of whom were providentially present to hear it. The claims of the cause in its several departments were pleaded with the earnestness of one whose words were but the simple utterances of the heart; and the closing appeal to the friends present to hold on their way, taking encouragement from the indications of Providence and the promises of God, would not, probably, have been couched in stronger terms, had the speaker been fully aware that he was speaking to us as an association for the last time.

Beloved friends of moral purity, in the solemn assembly, in the social circle, we shall hear his voice no more. With the friends of temperance, and the friends of the slave, we may well wear the badge of sorrow. More cause have we than they, for our efficient advocates are fewer among the teachers in Israel. The dear departed was not only a faithful champion in the cause, but a brother in adversity. We well remember his words of encouragement and sympathy, when the trial hour was darkest. "Learn," said he, "to sail complacently upon troubled waters, knowing that the Lord of the storm is above them;" and once and again, by precept and example, has he bid us "to tread the thorns down," and press onward.

We cannot contemplate his early exit without deep emotion; and yet we rejoice that he has gained the bliss of eaven, and that he was so long spared to do good.

Are we not admonished on every hand by the voice of sudden death? Many, during the past year, who, to human view, could ill be spared from their posts of labor, have suddenly obeyed the summons to depart hence. Who among the living shall be next to fall? Who of us, in view of the coming shaft, would be ready to respond with sweet composure, "My Master's time is mine?"