W. Ed. Snyder

Autumn—The Fading Leaf—Fruit in Old Age—His Later Labors—Present Home.

“We all do fade as a leaf,” was the lamentation of an ancient prophet in a melancholy mood. The fading leaf speaks in sad but beautiful language of waning vitality. It is the harbinger of autumn, telling us that nature is getting ready to close her books for the season. It brings with it a tinge of sadness mingled with sweetness; for there is compensation in even the saddest experiences. What would the year be without the pensive days of autumn? They are the golden fringes of the bounteous summer season. Sad, indeed, would they be if the summer has been ill spent. Then might the melancholy wail arise from the forlorn heart, “The harvest is past, the summer is ended.”

But when autumn looks back upon a springtime of bountiful seed-sowing, and a summer of bountiful reaping, it becomes the year’s climax of joy, the beneficiary of all its blessings. Enriched by the summer’s heritage, it is beautiful and peaceful and happy.

“We all do fade as a leaf.” May it be said philosophically. The fading of the leaf reveals more perfectly its innate qualities, and rounds out its brief existence. The red or brown or yellow, in mute language, tells its life history and closes the book.

It is said of the aged, sometimes, “They are set in their ways.” That is because in them character has become a finished product. The incidentals and accidentals have become eliminated, and the accumulated results of years of striving and hoping, sorrow and pain, defeats and victories are plainly discernible. Personal traits stand out in bold relief so that all may fittingly say, “Behold the man.”

Thus, Uncle Jack—for we may now use this affectionate designation, having passed his three score and ten, is now in the autumnal glory of a life beautiful and bountiful in its fruitage. And so the autumn of his life is enriched and made fragrant by the year’s benedictions. Blessed, indeed, is he to whom it is given to enjoy a long period of service, and who can then gracefully let his mantle pass to others whom God has called and prepared to receive it. To grow old sweetly, to let the sun go down amid the splendors of an unclouded evening sky, is the crowning glory of old age.

Blessed, indeed, then, is Uncle Jack. He approaches this period in life, not only in the spirit of a true philosopher, but in the spirit of a true Christian. He still lives in the sunshine, he keeps the windows open to the breezes that bring to him the fragrance of flowers, the song of birds, and the “music of the spheres.” The world smiles upon him and he returns its smile.

He has lived in an active, changing age, but has always kept up with the procession. He performed a vital part in the changing order in which he lived and moved and had his being; and he who helps to fashion events, who has a part in directing the movements of progress, is not likely to be left behind or to be trampled under foot. He not only kept pace with the world, but with a prophet’s vision, he anticipated the course of human events. So, as great changes approached, he was ready to march out to meet them. Like a true prophet, he had a message for his own day and generation, but the message was more potent because he had a vision of things yet to be.

In him is illustrated the Psalmist’s observation concerning the children of God, “They shall bring forth fruit in old age.” For him there is no “dead line.” The body may lose its agility; it may fail to do the bidding of the mind properly, but the mind and heart remain abreast of the times. The dead line means more than physical infirmity, and it often occurs that the mind lingers near that dread spot while the body is in its prime. The dead line belongs to the mind and not to the body, and hence, taking that view of it, there is no dead line for Uncle Jack.

It is given to but few men to continue in the public ministry until they pass their three score and ten. Uncle Jack had never been out of the active connection in some form from the time he entered the ministry until his seventy-third year, giving more than a half-century of unbroken service to the public work of the Church.

In the interest of accuracy and completeness, more specific mention should be made of his later work. After spending eleven years as presiding elder in Tennessee Conference, he returned North for a time, serving as pastor at Veedersburg, Indiana, as college pastor at Westfield, Illinois, as pastor at Olney, Illinois, and three years as presiding elder in Upper Wabash Conference. His work as pastor at Veedersburg included two periods, one of three years’, and the other of four years’ duration. This was one of the wealthiest and most influential churches in Upper Wabash Conference.

Returning to Tennessee—now East Tennessee—Conference, he was again elected to the presiding eldership, serving five years in that relation. Altogether he spent twenty-one years in the Tennessee Conference, serving five years in the pastorate besides sixteen years in the presiding elder’s office.

His last work in the pastorate was at Clarinda, Iowa, being called from there to the field agency for Indiana Central University at Indianapolis by the trustees of that institution. He has always been interested in the educational work of the Church. In his varied experience in religious work he has seen demonstrated in so many ways the need of an educated ministry. So he entered upon this latter work with a deep conviction of its importance, and with the earnestness and zeal which characterized his labors all through life; but finding his physical strength insufficient for its taxing demands, he was compelled to relinquish it.

In the fall of 1910 he again attended the East Tennessee Conference session, desiring only to enjoy its fellowship. He had no thought of assuming again an active relation in the conference, but his brethren were loath to let him escape. When the election of presiding elder was called, their minds once more centered upon him, and he lacked but four votes of being the unanimous choice of the conference. This, however, brought him to face a delicate matter which set a task for his tender conscience. Seeing that his election meant the crowding of a worthy young man out of an appointment, he very generously resigned the office with instructions to the Bishop that this young man be given the place.

His present home is at Odon, Indiana. Here he finds himself among sympathetic friends, and is near the scenes of his early childhood. He takes pleasure in doing what he can in the local church, setting a wholesome example to the membership by his faithful attendance at all the services and by loyal and liberal support of all its interests. Here he enjoys the hearty good will of old and young alike, and has frequent calls for addresses at various functions, where he is always greeted with unfeigned delight.

While not employed in a regular way by the Church, an appreciative public will continue to recognize his worth, and keep ajar the door of opportunity for rendering valuable service to his fellow men.