The Church of the Pilgrims, 
 
 BROOKLYN. XP:W YORK; 
 
 ITS GHAMllER AND *H'ORK, WtTlfTHE CHANGES AROUSI) IT, DURING 
 FORTV YEARS OF PASTORAL SERV'ICE. 
 
 A DISCOUESE, 
 
 DELIVERED XOVEMBER 14. 18 8 6, 
 
 lUCHAKl) S. STOKHS. D.l)., LLD., 
 
 PASTOR. 
 
 'X7I50 
 '8C5 
 
 ARNES & COMPANY, 
 
 NEW YORK & CHICAGO. 
 
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 -^t/GlGALSi^,^ 
 
JUL 10 IS- 
 
 The Church of the Pilgrims, 
 
 BROOKLYN, NEW YORK; 
 
 ITS CHARACTER AND WORK, WITH THE CHANGES AROUND IT, DURING 
 FORiy YEARS OF PASTORAL SERVICE. 
 
 A DISCOURSE, 
 
 DELIVERED NOVEMBER 14, 188 6, 
 
 BY 
 
 RICIIAKD S.^TOIIUS, D.D., LL.D., 
 
 PASTOR. 
 
 A. S. BARNES & COMPANY, 
 NEW YORK & CHICAGO. 
 
COPYRIGHT, 1886. A. S. BARNES & CO. 
 
DISCOURSE. 
 
 " Now therefore ye are no more stranfrers and foreigners, but fellow citizens with 
 the saints, and of the household of God ; and are built upon the foundation of the apostles 
 and prophets, Jesus Christ himself being the chief corner-stone ; in whom all the build- 
 ing fitly framed together groweth unto a holy temple in The Lord : in whom ye also are 
 buildtd together, for a habitation of God through the Spirit." — Ephemitts ii : 19-22. 
 
 MY DEAR CiiEisTiAN Feiends I — The conipletiitn of forty years of 
 continuous pastoral service in this cluirch inclines my thoughts 
 to-day, and possibly yours, with a natural impulse, toward a rapid 
 survey of what the church has hitherto been, in its unfolding life and 
 power, and of what it has done, or sought to do, in service to the Master. 
 There may be nothing in such a survey of special interest or importance 
 to others, but for us the story cannot fail of signiiicance, and perhaps 
 we may take incitement from it to liner, larger, and more fruitful work 
 in the time which remains. The changes constantly occurring around 
 us — never betVire so frequent or im])ressive in our community as in 
 recent years — admonish us forcibly that such a sketch, by the only 
 Pastor whom the church has yet had, should not be deferred to some 
 other anniversary, which for him may never come. With no other 
 feeling, therefore, than one of humility in reviewing my ])art in the 
 work here dcHie, of profound affection toward those with whom I have 
 been associated in the church and congregation, and in their respective 
 official boards, and of grateful praise toward Ilim who has blessed our 
 common effort with the power and grace of Divine benediction, I would 
 I'ccall some principal facts in our church-history, with some of the 
 characteristic traits which have marked our church-life. If I ask your 
 attention for a longer time than is usually allotted to sermons, even when 
 preached on special occasions, you will remember, I am sure, how wide 
 a range the subject contemplates, how many particulars it must include, 
 and how impossible it naturally is that another equal term of years 
 should present itself for our common review. 
 
 This church was constituted, as a distinct Christian society, in the 
 love of Christ, and for the furtherance of His earthly kingdom, by n:en 
 wlio not only belie\ed llis teachings, i-ejoiced in His offices, and wor- 
 
4 DISCOURSE. 
 
 shipped His person, but who had a tender and reverent sense of the 
 sacredness of the Church, as essentially related to the manifestation of 
 His life in the world. The "congregation of faithful men" was not to 
 them a mere assembly of persons statedl}^ meeting to listen to dis- 
 courses. It was not a simple human society, for self-cultivation in 
 ethical or philosophical knowledge, or even in religious thought, and in 
 the gi'aces and forces of character. It was to them, as it had been to the 
 apostle by whom were written the words of the text, as it has been to 
 us, the living and continuing household of Christ ; knit together and 
 quickened by faith toward Him ; endowed by Iliin with the riches of 
 His truth, and the treasure of His sacraments ; in which He personally 
 meets His disciples, to impart to them a heavenlier life than earth can 
 offer ; before which He opens celestial gates. Sacred fellowships with 
 each other, a supreme and transforming consciousness of His presence, 
 exulting and inspiring worship, with joyful service rendered to His 
 cause — these were therefore the aims of those who felt themselves drawn 
 by the motion of His Spii'it to form this church. Every effort for it 
 was to their apprehension an offering to Him, whom God hath set in 
 the heavenly places to be the Head over all things to the Church. 
 Vocal Avith His praise, it was to be also vital with His life. They 
 expected it to stand, in whatsoever local independence, in essential 
 alliance with all communions of those who love Him ; and they expected 
 it thus to stand, still testifying of II im, still pervaded by His gracious 
 energy, and still in its measure serving the progress of His kingly" cause, 
 while generations should come and go. This tender and lofty concep- 
 tion of the church, with this aspiration concerning its spiritual work in 
 the world, has been a constant moulding force in its development. 
 
 It has been constituted, from the first, of Christian families, living 
 for the most part in near neighborhood, while lirought into closer sj)ir- 
 itual connection by their common faith in the I)i\ine ilastei', and their 
 common desire for the supreme and immortal attainments made possible 
 by Ilim. Under the impxdse and law of the Gospel, with the ajiproval 
 of kindred churches, such families were here formally associated, for 
 common \\-orship, witli instruction and prayer, and the due celebration 
 of Christian sacraments, for mutual helpfulness toward whatever is best 
 in wisdom, knowledge, and holy affection, and for united Christian 
 labors. The church has always continued to be what it thus was at 
 first, a household-church ; and the impress of the fact has been apparent 
 in all its history. 
 
 The very location of its house of worshi]i, in a part of the city 
 occupied by residences, and removed from the avenues along which 
 
DISCOURSE. 5 
 
 passengers are carried in cars, has contriluited to keep it a church of 
 tainilies, socially as well as religiously allied. At one time, indeed, 
 while this iiouse was undergoing reconstruction, we worshipped for a 
 year in the Academy of Music, at the point where several car-lines con- 
 verge, and where very large congregations were assembled, gathered 
 from every section of the city, and including elements as diverse as pos- 
 sible, in respect to religious opinion and character as well as to resi- 
 dence, previous associations, forms of occupation, social position. That 
 formed an interesting episode in our history which we gladly remem- 
 ber, for the widened opportunities which it afforded, with the happy 
 effects which followed the exhibition of the Lord in the Gospel to 
 wanderers and wayfarers as well as to clustered Christian households. 
 Some of us, perhaps, would not have been sorry if a similar opportunity, 
 thou<rh not presented by a similar occasion, had been opened to us sigain. 
 But the church was intentionally planted at iirst as a household-church; 
 and such it has continued to be, with whatever of limitation, with what- 
 ever of advantage, belongs to this distinctive constitution. 
 
 A certain reserve has therefore characterized it, such as used to be 
 more common in churches than it has been of late. There has never 
 been felt here the passion for publicity which finds the church-life most 
 exhilarating when public mention of it is frequent; to which the church 
 appears walking victoriously on high places when the newspapers are 
 occupied with what is said or done within it. AVe have preferred to 
 live in the privacy secured to us, and to do our work, in our special 
 sphere, without proclamation. It has never been our wont to advertise 
 our services, except on the rarest public occasions; and the many 
 strangers whom we have gladly welcomed to them have come from an 
 impulse in themselves, not as attracted by notices in the papers. I 
 implv in this no adverse criticism on a different plan. I see, indeed, 
 that that may have advantages. I speak only of what our o^vn custom 
 has been, as naturally suggested by the particular composition of the 
 church. 
 
 The families thus associated have by no means been wholly from 
 Kew England, or descendants of the Puritan stock; nor have they been 
 such, only, as had previously been accustomed to the Congregational 
 order or worship. English, Scotch, and German families have been as 
 pleasantly at home in the church as have been those of American 
 origin ; so have families of the Holland lineage, or those springing from 
 a Huguenot ancestry; families from the North of Ireland, or from 
 Canada ; from the West, the Middle States, or the South, as well as 
 those from >i'ew England. AVe have had among us, and have to-day. 
 
6 DISCOURSE. 
 
 those born and trained in the Presbyterian Church, in either of its 
 reunited divisions; those brought up trom cliildhood in the Episcopal 
 Church, in the Methodist, the Baptist, the Reformed, the Lutheran, the 
 Unitarian, the Society of Friends, as well as tliose born and baptized in 
 Congregational churches. They have dwelt together in tiie happiest 
 mutual confidence and sympathy, on tiie connnon foundation of faitli in 
 the Master ; and those who have come from other nationalities, or from 
 conmiunions remote from ours, have contributed as much as any others 
 to the furtherance of the church, by wise counsels, liberal gifts, and an 
 affectionate entliusiasni of spirit. To many of them, I know, this 
 church has become as lamiliar a home, as fondly beloved, as if they had 
 never known any other ; and the continual variety in unity which lias 
 marked the congregation has been to it a source of strength, to him 
 who long has ministered to it an occasion of constant refreshment and 
 joy. Two or thi'ee, certainly, have here worshipped who had been 
 trained in the Jesuit schools ; several are now here whose early disci- 
 pline was in convents. 
 
 Relatively, at least, this has been also a permanent congregation. 
 Of course changes continually occur in times like these, and in connnu- 
 nities like ours, where men easily move from place to place, and where 
 very few are born in the houses in which their parents had been children. 
 The event of death sadly and suddenly scatters households ; while, aside 
 from this, the reverses of prosperity, or rapid and large accumulations 
 of wealth, the claims of business, new social attractions, sometimes no 
 doubt the mere desire for novelty in environment, all contribute to 
 multiply changes in a city-congregation ; and no one notices such 
 changes more instantly', or feels them more keenly, than does the Pastor, 
 as familiar hands are loosened from his to grasp the unseen Hand above, 
 or as he sees families to whom he is attached removed to other cities, or 
 to parts of our city so remote that attendance on our services becomes 
 impossible. How many such changes have occurred among us I need 
 not remind you. We look in vain for many faces which used to be here, 
 keen in attention, earnest with a resolute pui-pose, orsuffused with joyful 
 confidence and hope. 
 
 Yet, as compared with many congregations situated like this, in the 
 midst of recent and mobile populations, this has been remarkably per- 
 manent. More than twenty families are represented among us which 
 were here when I first stood in this pulpit ; while the number of those 
 who have been here for twenty or thirty years is of course vastly larger. 
 The church has had the same cleric, the same treasurer, for nearly 
 thirty years each. Tlie treasure)' of the Society has so long had our 
 
DISCOURSE. 7 
 
 finances in his kind, faithful, and punctual hands, that we hardly 
 renicniber when his function began ; and even the weekly care of the 
 house in which we worship has been in charge of one officer for a 
 quarter of a century. Wliile, therefore, the changes in the congregation 
 hive been frequent enough to keep us from settling into ruts of routine, 
 and to furnish all the time fresh hearers of the Word, they liavo not 
 interrupted the essential continuity of the life of the church, or im- 
 paired in the least its early sense of unity in the spirit, and of grateful 
 and happy home attachment. 
 
 There is more than beauty in such a comparative permanence of 
 congreo-ations. A persistent and powerfid moral force comes to devel- 
 opment with and through it. The church has its impersonal conscious- 
 ness. A certain invisible spiritual force associates its members, selects 
 its aims, directs its conclusions, prompts or limits its organized action. 
 It cannot become a revolving mirror, to reflect the idiosyncracies of any 
 one in the ]iulpit. Its influence on the Pastor is as definite and positive 
 as is his upon it ; and its essential self-propagating life will not cease to 
 exhibit its ])0wer, and to work its eftects, whatever Minister comes or 
 goes. Such a church, with its roots in the past, and its living inspira- 
 tion from the mind of the Master, need not fear to fiice the coming 
 years. Its strength is inherent, not adventitious, and its history is 
 prophetic. Walls of stone, pillars of oak, are its natm-al shelter, not 
 buildings which may be moved, hither and yon, like the tents of a 
 circus ; but the permanent and diftn^ive force of its life will surpass in 
 endurance both stone and oak. 
 
 That this has been also a harmonious church hardly needs to be 
 said ; and the fact has been on the one hand a fruit, on the other hand 
 a source, of the interior continuity of its life. This harmony has by 
 no means implied that any one in the church, whether officer or member, 
 has always had matters adjusted to his preference. We have all of us 
 had occasionally to yield to a general judgment adverse to our views. 
 Xor has it implied that no subjects for discussion have been ];rescnted, 
 disclosing sharp difl:erences of opinion or feeling. We ha\e had, 
 rather, our full share of such ; touching matters of the inner adminis- 
 tration of church or society, or touching our relations to other churches, 
 or to benevolent organizations. But frank, courteous, and ample dis- 
 cussion, continued sometimes through successive sessions, has always 
 brought consent in the end on the part of a majority never, I think, 
 on critical questions, of less than three-fourths of those voting upon 
 them; and when such consent has been declared the minority has 
 yielded with ready compliance. A tactions minority in the chnrch has 
 
8 DISCOURSE. 
 
 never existed. It is not impossible that some may have left it, at one 
 time or another, because their wishes had been overruled, though I 
 recall only four or five instances in which I have any reason to suppose 
 this. But far the larger number of tiiose whose judgment or desire 
 had failed to control our corporate action have continued as affection- 
 ately attached to the church, and as eager for its welfare, as before such 
 action had been taken. They have fully understood that the Christian 
 neighbors and long-time friends with whom they here worshipped were 
 desirous to consult the best interests of all ; tliat while the general 
 mind of tlie church must be commanding on all questions affecting its 
 policy, there was no wish to restrain the expression of adverse opinion, 
 or to crowd a minority into a coui-se obnoxious to them ; and that, if 
 experience should show the inexpediency of any course of approved 
 action, it would cheerfully be retraced. So they have uniformly acqui- 
 esced in what has been done ; have borne their part in accomplishing 
 measures to which at first they had been disinclined ; ancl ha\e hoped, 
 with others, for the good results which for themselves they could scarcely 
 anticipate, but which I think they have afterward generally admitted to 
 be realized. 
 
 An incidental illustration of this prevalent liarmony is presented by 
 the fact that while the term of office of a Deacon in the church is limited 
 by our rules to six years, one honored brother — a man of the strongest 
 convictions and character, who was not nnfrequently earnest in debate 
 and inflexible in vote against measures which yet the church accepted — 
 was continued in that office, by successive reelections, for nearly forty 
 years, would be in it to-day if lie had not been called to go up higher ; 
 while of the present incumbents of the office each has held it since his 
 first election, one of them for twenty-eight j'ears, another for twenty- 
 four. Many other churches have been larger than this, and more con- 
 spicuous. I doubt if any one can be f )uiid which has had a happier 
 concord of feeling so long and so habitually manifest in it. 
 
 As a church of affiliated Christian hduseholds, this was not estab- 
 lished, and it has not existed, as a centre of either doctrinal or ecclesias- 
 tical propagandism; but it has consistently honored the Faith in the 
 acceptance of which it was founded, and the special form of organization 
 which at the outset it adopted. A Congregational church, orthodox in 
 doctrine while democratic in polity, was a distinct novelty here when 
 this church began. Congregationalism was associated, in the general 
 thought, either with Unitarian teaching, or with some variety of the 
 then odious Perfectionist opinions. It was widely expected that this 
 church would soon become absorbed in some established and command- 
 
DISCO URSE. 9 
 
 iiig communion preceding it on this ground ; or tiiat, if developing on 
 its own lines, it would take the attitude toward such conununiuns of 
 repellence and menace. It was frc(jueiitly suggested that its Confession 
 of Faith would not long be maintained, but that some attractive ration- 
 alizing scheme would emerge in place of it. It may not be said, per- 
 haps, that such fears, in either direction, were then unnatural ; but it may 
 certainly, with emphasis, be said that no such fears have been justified 
 bv our history, that none such can now continue. 
 
 We have not over-valued any special form of Cliiirch-eonstitution. 
 We have (piite understood that no arrangement of ecclesiastical rules 
 and rites can securely guard the inner church-life. The pi'elatical sys- 
 tem, which naturally enough grew up in the Empire after the apostolic 
 time, and which gave coherence and mutual support to the early congre- 
 gations, has shown itself in history, and in its only positive modern 
 development, in fatal sympathy with a system of doctrine which appears 
 as unlike the majestic and tender message of the Gospels as the gilded 
 and purpled Alpine ice is unlike the bloom of suuuner-gardens. Even 
 under the careful restrictive limitations on which Protestantism insists, 
 it hardly supplies substantive support to a distinctly evangelical teach- 
 ing. It accepts and fosters the arts of beauty, in connection with its 
 buildings; it diligentW cultivates the spirit and the manner of devout- 
 ness in worship ; to a certain extent it enriches ceremonial, and adds 
 stateliness to jndjlic Church-councils; it affords, I doubt not, valuai)le 
 guidance in the missionarj' etfort of a communion ; it makes the volun- 
 tary withdrawal from it of ministers or churches more difficult and con- 
 vulsive; and sometimes it gives a higher prominence, a wider influence, 
 to fine and strong character, or to generous culture, in its principal 
 officers. But it seems unable to exclude from its pulpits either those 
 who treat miracles as legends, the Word of God as largely the product 
 of a human literary craft, or those on the other hand who copy the dress, 
 emulate the manner, mimic the rites, and covet the dogmas of Eoman 
 priests. A mere ethical theism, and a carnal or mystical doctrine of 
 grace conveyed upon sacraments, appear equally at home in the sheliei- 
 of its chancels; and while, tor the most part, a common ritual is main- 
 tained, within the indulgent hospitality of that ritual conflicting opinions 
 so face each other that a stranger in one of its local congregations can 
 scarcely be assured beforehand whether he is to meet a selt-asserting 
 ])hilosophy of doubt, or a scheme of sacerdotal manipulation, which 
 attronts the intelligence and scouts the Keformation, or a clear and 
 delightful exhibition of the Gospel. '• The unity of the Faith " is largely 
 and eloipieiitly eulogized by the system, hut it is by no means guarantied. 
 
10 DISCOURSE. 
 
 Oil the other hand, it must equally be admitted that more popular 
 forms of Church-constitution, approaching more nearly the New Testa- 
 ment plan, are liable also to be iiisidioasly invaded or forcibly over- 
 swept by the insurgence of rash speculation, or by the subtler intrusion 
 of that sceptical spirit which begins with doubt and ends with tierce 
 and wide denial. The only real barriers against eitlier of these m\ist be 
 in the intelligent and experienced faith of the body of believers. The 
 essential chui'ch-life, iindecaying, invincible to assault, can rest only on 
 the immanent grace of the Divine Spirit. What carries disciples, 
 churches, or communions back to that, in simple and strong reliance of 
 the heart, is likeliest to keep them in accord with the Master, and in the 
 perennial fellowship of the Faith. 
 
 "While honoring, therefore, the scheme of Church-order which we 
 have inherited, we have had no fend with any other. We value, for 
 ourselves, the democratic equality of members; the open cluirch-nieet- 
 inirs, for important discussions; the wholly unhindered conference of 
 minds in the weekly religious assend)lies; the liberty we have in select- 
 ing and arranging oui' fdriiis of worship; the careful provision for intel- 
 ligent church-discipline, with the strict defenses of individual rights ; 
 the limited trusts committed to officers; and the insistence on personal 
 leadership, resulting from chai-acter, knowledge, consecration, as the 
 warrant and measure of ministerial privilege. More than all, we value 
 that freediim from an extreme denominational spirit which is natural to 
 a church which governs itself, which desires that others should govern 
 themselves, and which has no ambition to gratify by magnifying the 
 worth and extending the area of some elaborate external scheme. We 
 have loved these elements and traits of our system, and have felt 
 that they wrought beneficially with ns ; and we have rejoiced to aid as 
 we could in fostering similar Church-instittitions, near or afar. We 
 have been sensitive to any discredit which might be cast on them, by 
 what appeared the unworthy action of other churches; and when occa- 
 sion required we have taken some risks, accepted some censure — which 
 has done ns no harm — through etforts to prevent or remove such dis- 
 credit. But no slur or suspicion has been cast by this church on the 
 forms of organization preferred and prevailing in other communions — 
 the Presbyterian, the Methodist, or the Episcopal. We have frankly 
 recognized what is excellent in them, and have seen with joy the grf)Wth 
 and prosperity of congregations accustomed to them. Interlaced as we 
 are with such congregations by innumeralile ties, religious and social, 
 our relations to them and to their pastors have been candiil and con- 
 fiding. It has been natural that they sliould be, since no more com- 
 
DISCOURSE. 11 
 
 plete contradiction can be foiu-ieil of tlie fiiiulaniental pi-inciple Iving at 
 the base of a church like this than would be ottered by any denial of 
 the hhertv of others to associate themselves iii>Christian societies as they 
 may ]>refer, under the general law of Ciirist. A partisan temper, a 
 sharj) and censorious denominational zeal, must be to us intensely inap- 
 propriate. Any one of our iiouseholds might as well insist that its 
 neighbors shall live just like itself, and dress or build in the same pre- 
 cise fashion. Freednm of organization for Christian congregations, in 
 connection with any cuniiiiunion they select, or outside of any if they 
 prefer, is a ])rinciple vital to our scheme of order. I have no fear that 
 a steadfast attachment to our way of working, with this cordial respect 
 for any other which iu experience may prove itself effective, will ever 
 here languish or fail. 
 
 ' While the church has continued Congregational in order, it has 
 also remained evangelical in faith, and has shown no tendency to yield 
 or to modify the con\ ictions of the truth, august and transcendent, in 
 which it was founded. We have lived side by side, in the happiest 
 fellowship as neighbors and friends, with the families of the Unitarian 
 church, which was here before us; we have delighted to unite with 
 them in many large and beautiful works ; and we have affectionately 
 honored their pastors — him who already had passed middle life when I 
 came hither, and who continues among us, venerable in a serene age, 
 and liim who succeeded him in a like earnest and honorable ministry, 
 and whom we regret to miss henceforth from our streets and societies. 
 But no change has occurred in our Faith, bringing it to a closer corre- 
 spondence with theirs; while it has eqnalh' remained unaffected liyany 
 one of the fugitive opinions which during our time have taken and lost 
 in the public thought a transitory prominence. Our Confession of Faith 
 remains what it was ; and the practical power of the sj'stem of doctrine 
 articulated in it, for both Minister and people, is as positive as ever. 
 
 The impression not nnfrequently obtains that men and women of 
 cultivated minds, and of agreeable social surroundings, are losing the 
 hold which their fathei-s had upon the peculiar truths of tlie Gospel, and 
 are substituting for them some one or other of the shifting schemes of 
 rationalizing thought which are always in the air. But certainl}' sucrh 
 tendencies, if existing among us, have been singularly inert. We have 
 had our full proportion, always, of those generously trained in semina- 
 ries, colleges, and the higher professional schools, at home and abroad. 
 Between two and three hundred men so educated have been pei'sonaliv 
 known to me as attendants on our worship, the majority of them as 
 communicants in the church, many of them being in it to-day. Thej' 
 
12 DISCOURSE. 
 
 liave been lawyers, judges, pliysicians, editors, authors, teachers, bankers, 
 engineers, merchants, with occasionally retired ministers, of our com- 
 munion or of others. At tlie same time among the cultivated women, 
 who have also had the special advantage of a generous education, have 
 been writers, artists, teachers, as well as lionored maidens and matrons. 
 I by no means imply that all of these, whether men or women, have 
 held with clear and full conviction the doctrine here maintained and 
 taught. I know that there have been distinct exceptions. But it is dne 
 to tliie truth to say that if anj^ have been dr;iwn toward attractive spec- 
 ulations diverging trom our governing Faith, it has been ^vith pain 
 rather than with pride ; that they have made no attempt whatever to 
 unsettle the convictions of those around them ; and that most of those 
 who might have been expected to feel themselves fettered by any limi- 
 tation on the widest wanderings of thought have been as firm in their 
 allegiance to the truth here set forth as have been disciples less cul- 
 tured and alert. The Faith itself, as declared by the cliurcli, has 
 Buttered no change. 
 
 The Divine authority of tlie Lord Jesus Christ has been from the 
 .first its sovei'eign element; with the connected Divine authoi'ity of the 
 8eriptures through which lie is declared to the world. With the 
 human nature which plainly appears in Ilim we see united the essential 
 personal nature of God, in a true and transcendent Incarnation. What 
 He declares is, therefore, for us the ultimate truth in the sphere of 
 religion. His precepts present for our minds the nniversal and eternal 
 ethical law. Through His smiles and tears. His condeujnation of evil. 
 His sympathy with grief, His desire for human purity and peace. His 
 beneficent action, the heart of the Infinite is manifest to us. In His 
 work of Redemption, consummated in His death, by the blood which 
 was shed for the remission of sins, by the life which was given for the 
 life of the world, the Divine compassions — rising to the cliinax of stu- 
 pendous self-sacrifice — are set before us, in intimate coincidence with 
 innnaculate holiness. The sinfulness of man's nature, with the doom 
 he has incurred, are terrifically illustrated in this unparallelled interven- 
 tion from on high, which was the condition of his forgiveness. On the 
 other hand, the immortal possibilities of the soul, for character and 
 power, are sublimely suggested by the incalculable ofi'ering of Himself, 
 which He who knew that soul to the centre was ready to make on its 
 behalf. The Resurrection, the Ascension, and the present celestial 
 Kingship of the Lord, are only in the line, and on the majestic inacces- 
 sible level, of all the associated facts of His life; and to us they are as 
 certain as are stars in the sky. That His promise has been fulfilled in 
 
DISCOURSE. 13 
 
 tlie gift of the grace of the Divine Spirit, to awaken, renew, and bring 
 men to blessetl fellowship with Himself, is a fact of whicli we are certi- 
 fied by observation, are certified. I trust, b_v our lia])py experience. We 
 accept His statement of tlie Judgment to come, fnlhiwing death, at 
 wliicli He will preside, with the fair and clear discriminations of charac- 
 ter there to be made, and with tlie results of recompense or reward for 
 which Eternity is to ofler the .sphere. Tliat God had a purpose, from 
 the outset of history, concerning this astonishing mission of His Son, 
 we cannot doubt ; nor that that purpose now contemplates the efi'ect of 
 it in the world, on persons and on peoples. That He who yielded Him- 
 self to the Cro.-s, and thereafter arose to the skies, is to bring His King- 
 dom of righteousness and peace to final and glorious consummation on 
 earth, we are joyfully assured ; and equally that in supernal realms of 
 light and triumph, to which He has ascended, a home is prepared for 
 the humblest and tlie weakest who follow Him in faith. 
 
 This Gospel of the Christ stands apart, to our thought, from every 
 scheme of philosophy or ethics, from any human scheme of Religion. 
 We accept it as coming from the mind and will which fashioned the 
 heavens, and which here have interposed to give direct and inestimable 
 light on matters of iiiinuiital concern. If any one asks, "Do you fully 
 comprehend the niarvellous facts which you thus affirm '. " we cheerfully 
 answei', " Certainly not ; any more than we understand life, or mind, 
 the power of the will, or the secret of sunbeams; but we gladly accept 
 them, on what to us is the clear and sure witness of God." If any one 
 asks, " Are you not staggered, in the faculty of l)elie\"ing, l)y the story 
 of Miracles '. "' our reply is immediate, " Certainly not ; since we recog- 
 nize in them a Divine power, intervening in history, on an adequate 
 occasion, for a purpose as sublime as are the amazing means employed ; 
 and we can no more set limits to that power than we can coimt the 
 moments of Eternity." Miracles, from God, are intrinsically as credible 
 as is the poem or the picture to which genius gives birth, but which we 
 cannot rival. The only questions which appear to us pertinent concern 
 the ends which they subserve, with the testimony offered for them. Or, 
 if we are asked, '" How the Father can be Divine, the Son Divine, and 
 the Spirit Divine, and yet but one God fill the immensities?" our 
 answer is, that the mystery only enhances to our thought the Infinite 
 Glory, and opens into brighter depths the wonders of that exalted state 
 where wirat »ve cannot know on earth shall be revealed to illuminated 
 minds and purified hearts. 
 
 The mystery in any of the truths of the Gospel is not for us a iiar 
 to believing. It is rather an encouragement to such belief; since we do 
 
14 DISCOURSE. 
 
 not expect to comprehend God, or to learn from Him what is simply 
 commonplace. In accepting sncli truths we are gratefully conscious of 
 an immediate intellectual contact with the spiritual sphere. From 
 realms inaccessible to lenses or calculations descend upon our minds 
 these high instructions. We seem to ourselves to communicate with the 
 soul from which ours have sprung, and before which extend the shining 
 expanses of truth and of life. The earth becomes sacred, because such 
 revelations have opened above it celestial prospects. The order of 
 history takes its vivid interpretation from the Divine mission central in 
 it ; while the premonitions of glory or of gloom -which are shot upon 
 responsive spirits from the coming Immortality add solemnity to our 
 woi'ship, and the supreme intensity to our life. 
 
 We have been conscious of no burden whatever, and of no contining 
 limitations, in connection with our assui-ed conviction of these primor- 
 dial and superlative truths. The conviction has been imposed upon us 
 by no outward authority. We have not even been held to it by pleasant 
 affiliations with a wide coinnuinion, from which we did not wish to 
 withdraw. It has been our conviction because study and prayer, inter- 
 pi-cting the Scriptures, have brought us to it ; because it corresponds 
 witli whatever is loftiest in those aspirations which lift us toward God ; 
 because in the sternest crises of life its voice to us has rung as with the 
 cheer of heavenly trumpets ; liecause we have found in it the profound 
 and sovereign joy of our souls. Christianity would be the perpetual and 
 unparallelled romance of the world if it were not its most authoritative 
 doctrine, its supremely illuminating history. In their duller secular moods 
 it may doubtless seem to men distant and strange, almost unreal. But 
 in the higher spiritual states of feeling and thought it brings its own 
 evidence, intrinsic and commanding, in its absolute fitness to what is 
 most tender and deep in desii'e, most exalted in hope, most affectionate 
 and exulting in our consciousness of God. 
 
 Nor has our conviction detained us from any excursions of thought, in 
 which the aspiring mental force might fruitfully work or playfully 
 disport. I know of no congregatiim in which minds have been more 
 open than in this to whatever light science can give, or philosophy, or 
 histoi-y, on the themes of chiefest interest to man. I do not think that 
 you ever have felt that the pulpit has been narrow in its range, imperious 
 in its tone, or averse to considering whatever the greater minds of the 
 world have thought and taught. I have not been prodigal of historical 
 or philosophical discussion. I have wished to present the results of 
 thinking, rather than the processes ; the gathered metal, instead of the 
 lumps of earth and stone in wliich it had been lodged. But it has been 
 
DISCOURSE. 15 
 
 part of the business of my life to investigate as widely and itiipartlally 
 as I could whatever movements, of action or thought, have liad Cliristian 
 significance ; and there are not many of them which have not at some 
 time here been traced. But nothing in all this has tended to unsettle 
 our faith in the Gospel, or to prompt us to displace it for recent 
 ambitious and showy speculations. On the contrary, the very variety 
 of our studies has shown us that often what has called itself light has 
 been but a deceptive glitter, born of decay; that there are temitorary 
 fashions in thought, as there are in dress, or in the I)uilding of houses; 
 that opinions which loom like the mass of continents turn out, not nn- 
 fretpiently, to be vanishing mists; and that even the path leading to 
 heaven, which the Master opens, and in which the humble may joyfully 
 walk, may be bidden, as it has been, by fantastic speculations which 
 one age produced and the next age forgot. 
 
 While ready, therefore, to welcome instruction from ;iiiy quarter, we 
 have not gone forth on restless quests after new theories. It seems to 
 ns a temperate belief, warranted by the Bible, and simply just to the 
 Author of that, that in religion as in science the supreme facts are fixed, 
 and that we have only to adjust our minds to them. If the essential 
 meaning of the Gospel is not evident in the Scriptures, and has not 
 been sufficiently illustrated in the vast experience and the intense 
 many-sided discussion of Christian centuries, it is idle to hope for cer- 
 tainty about it. Yet in such certainty is the spring of whatever is 
 noblest in action, or finest and divinest in achievements of character. 
 While, therefore, attachment to the centre of certainties has left us free 
 for untrammelled speculation on themes which the certainties do not 
 cover — no more manacled by our confidence than the astronomer is by 
 his assurance that the sun is a globe of substance and fire, not a painted 
 balloon, or than the geographer is by his conviction that the continents 
 of the earth are not mere fringes of floating foam — we have not suffered 
 from that vagrancy of mind which hates, constitutionally, to rest in 
 conclusions ; to which everything grandest and most serious in the uni- 
 verse remains a moot question ; which is only conscious of gladness and 
 force when in unguided motion along dim and perilous tracks of thought ; 
 and which is almost certain to bring up at last, where Paul says that in 
 his time some fouinl their conclusion, in a '" vain jangling,"' '• under- 
 standing neither what they say, nor whereof they confidently affirm.*' 
 
 We prefer the old doctrine, which came with prelude of heavenly 
 song, which He who is The Truth declared, which conquered the ancient 
 Pagan society as sunshine conquers the fierceness of frost, which has 
 blessed the earth, wherever it has touched it, as only a force from 
 
16 DISCOURSE. 
 
 heaven could, and which conies to us commended l)y successions of 
 ilhistrious lives, as well as 1j)' the lueniories of lathers and mothers 
 whose hearts it had uplifted, whose personal action it had nobly inspired. 
 A world like ours— which is not uuide up, either physically or unjrally, 
 of garden and greensward, but in both its departments is rugged with 
 granite, ]iestilent with morasses, swept by storm-winds, embosoming 
 fire — needs such a religion, of grace and of marvel, with the thunder of 
 Divine authority in its tones. Blessed be God that for ages it has had 
 it ! that a church even as recent as this is knit ijy its Faith in vital 
 connection with the churches which apostles planted and watched! A 
 dignity descends on its young life from beliefs sublimely honored afore- 
 time by confessors and martyrs. It is spiritually nm'ted, according to 
 our conception of things, with the ever-expanding Communion of Saints, 
 waiting on earth, triumphant on high ; even with angelic spirits of 
 light, who see in the mission of the Lord of the Gospel, more than in 
 creation, the lovely and holy mystery of God. No uncertain order of 
 historical occurrences, no imperfect apparent equivalence of forms, 
 could miite ns in a fellowship so vital and pi'ophetic with nniltitudindus 
 fraternities of beautiful souls. Until the entire life of the church has 
 essentially failed, this Faith which it has honored can no more lose the 
 place of preeminence in it than the substance of the walls within which 
 it worships can be resolved into painted glass or perishable tissues. 
 
 It is related in the memoirs of Bartoli, one of the distinguished 
 Italian antiquarians, that when excavations were made at Home on the 
 Palatine Hill, at aliout the middle of the seventeenth century, under 
 the pontiticate of Innocent Tenth, a chamber was found lined with 
 a brilliant gold brocade, whose rich splendor almost dazzled the eye, but 
 which faded as sunlight streamed upon it, till the fascinating brilliance 
 had entirely disajjpeared. An apartment near this was found lined with 
 silver ; and another, covered with sheets of lead. The silver was 
 eagerly stripped from the walls ; the lead was left. But when after a 
 time the lead was removed, misuspected riches of coined gold were 
 found securely lodged behind and hidden by it. A fair image seems 
 here presented of the dift'erence between theories which superficially 
 attract and transiently dazzle, or schemes of opinion which have a v^dne 
 but not the highest, and that mystery of the Gospel which liehind a 
 common and sober aspect conceals inestimable riches of truth and of 
 heavenly promise. These riches we have assiduously sought. I trust, 
 in some measure, their wealths we have found. 
 
 Of the general character of the ]Miblic teaching M-hicli has here been 
 familiar it is not proper for me to speak, except as a few words may be 
 
DISCO V USE. 17 
 
 permitted concerning its governing aim and method. Of course, with 
 our conception of the Gospel, of the Lord whom it presents, and of tlie 
 essential transformation U> be wrought by Him in the spirit <.f man, 
 forensic teaching is not the chief means of building uj) among men the 
 kino-dom of Clu-ist. There is a common iiriesthood of believers, which 
 is to be especially exemplitied in the Pastor, by which spiritual imiires- 
 sion passes in radiation from one to another, and a soul which i;; Idled 
 with the life of the Master communicates that, in immediate etlluence, 
 to others whose centres of life it touches. However one may question 
 the rites and rules of an earthly organization arrogating to the Minister 
 the priestly preeminence which prelacy offei's, he may and he must 
 fulfill his duty to those who give him " the cure of souls " by such direct 
 mediation for Christ. The pastoral office has in this its perpetual sig- 
 nificance. The supremacy of character over learning or eloquence in 
 the clerical e<piipment becomes self-evident. Courage, patience, gentle- 
 ness, reverence, affectionateness of temper, habitual converse with things 
 unseen, these are more needful to any Minister than scholarship, logic, 
 or an educated taste. In the masterful and dilfusive energy of faith, 
 pervading his life, is the seci-et and measure of his success. His iirst 
 duty is to keep his own soul in instant and happy alliance with the 
 Lord, that he may sympathetically transmit to others the gracious and 
 elevating force which he gains. If he fails in this, tiie failure is vital, 
 and nothing else can compensate for it. But with this is also closely 
 associated the office of systematic public instruction ; and how this has 
 here been managed I may briefly remind you. 
 
 It is certainly not a trifling task to stand week by week, for forty 
 years, in the presence of a numerous and cultured congregation, and to 
 speak, without conscious or frequent repetition, on subjects not always of 
 equal importance, but always lying within the sphere of philosophical or 
 practical religion. In so prolonged a ministry to one people there is 
 danger of an increasing monotom' in forms of expression, and in the 
 customary modes of exhibiting subjects, with a greater danger of 
 monotonous recurrence of favorite themes. Against the first danger 
 I guarded myself, as far as I could, when twenty years since I sub- 
 stituted sermons prepared with care, but carefully unwritten, for the 
 manusci'ipt sermons which before I had used. This was not the 
 result bf a wish to save labor — it has never done that ; but of a 
 desire to make public discourse more natural, free, and flexibly vigor- 
 ous, less literary in tone, more direct and energetic. Imperfect as 
 the success has been, it has been sufficient, to my apprehension, to 
 justify the change. Against the second danger, of limitation in range 
 
18 DISCO UliSE. 
 
 of thouglit, the congregatiou made watclifiil provision when it arranged 
 the Pastor's Study as a permanent part of its house of worship, and 
 when, subsequently, withont solicitation, it laid tlie foundation of a 
 Pastoral Librarj^, to which annual approjiriations have since been 
 made, and which has become a rich collection of valuable books, in 
 various languages, especially helpful to the study of the Scriptures, or 
 of those signiticant developments in history which illustrate the progress 
 of the kingdom of God. The plan of teacliing thus suggested it has 
 been iny aim, though with an imperfection which no one can have seen 
 more clearly than myself, to carry out. 
 
 I have always had in view a various instruction, for myself as for 
 you, itroceeding through years, rather than any rapid succession of 
 startling appeals, such as might have been appropriate in a promiscuous 
 and unstable congregation ; an instruction, too, on themes pertaining 
 to the spiritual life, rather than on matters of temporary interest, which 
 may be more aptly and sufficiently treated on platforms or in journals. 
 
 I may perliaps fairly say, with the assurance of your assent, that the 
 primary and inspii'ing aim of this ministry has been to set distinctly 
 before you the Son of God, in His tenderness and His majesty, His 
 unique personality. His supreme offices, Plis welcoming invitations, in 
 His proper lordship over the world, and in that glor}' with the Father 
 to which He ascended, and into which He receives those who follow 
 Him in foitli. This general purpose has practically subordinated all 
 things to itself, and has given to the preaching its motive and rule. Of 
 course, in the protracted and passionate debate on African Slavery this 
 pulpit was not silent, conceiving that question to belong to Christianity, 
 not only or chiefly to secular statesmanship. In the storm and stress 
 of the Civil War, it was needful that constant succors be ministered to 
 spirits which would have felt too deeply the scathe and scar of the fiery 
 contest, unless protected by confidence in Him to whose sublime plans 
 for the welfare of the world the victory of Liberty appeared indispen- 
 sable. In the presence, too, of great tragic events — the conflagration of 
 cities, the swoop of pestilence, the assassination of Presidents, the death 
 of men illustrious in our history — the discussions of tlie pulpit have fol- 
 lowed, while seeking to elevate and enlighten, the thouglit of all minds. 
 But, in general, the public teaching here has been limited to themes of 
 a spiritual significance, especially to the person and the offices of Christ, 
 and to the nature and immortal effects of the faith which associates the 
 soul with Him. It has been felt that herein lies the power to bless 
 men, and to lift them toward God ; not in the realms of philosophical 
 discussion, or amid the wide outlying spaces of archceological inquiry, or 
 
DISCOURSE. 19 
 
 on any chance lines of eccentric thought. The written Word, setting 
 fortli in fullness the living Word, that is the power of God to salvation ; 
 thoui''h no one can know so fully as does he who tries to exhibit it how 
 true are the lines of George Herbert, — 
 
 " Oh, tbat I knew how all thy lights combine. 
 And the configurations of their glory ! 
 Seeing not only how each verse doth shine, 
 But all the constellations of the story ! " 
 
 Even the ethical and political questions which constantly challenge 
 public attention have not here been largely treated. This has not been 
 accidental, but the fruit of a distinct intention. If any things are plain 
 on the face of the New Testament this seems to be among them, that 
 neither the Lord nor His apostles entered as disputants into the political 
 arena of their time, or undertook, by particular precepts, to control and 
 direct the action of disciples in secular affairs. A thousand questions of 
 personal practice, in regard to amusements, social customs, business 
 occupations, the household life, the duties of men in their public rela- 
 tions, were as prominent then, and in the centuries which iumiediately 
 followed, as they have been since ; and a sentence from the Master, or 
 from either apostle, upon such questions, would have saved prolonged 
 and perplexing debate. But the sentence was not spoken. They insist 
 upon the duties of chastity, temperance, honesty, industry, fidelity to 
 obligations, abstinence from impure associations with the world, a sys- 
 tematic effort for holiness in the spirit ; but beyond this their plan is to 
 push the impression of celestial realities, and of man's need of trans- 
 fio-urino- m-ace, into the intimate conviction of men ; to bring them thus 
 to penitent faith, to heavenly hopes, and to a conscious tellowship with 
 the Lord; and then to leave the new moral life, so quickened and 
 instructed, to work itself out, in individual expression, in their several 
 social relations and activities. The ground rule is always the same: 
 " If thine eye be single, thy whole body will be full of light." The 
 end aimed at is always the same : " That ye should show forth the 
 praises of Him who hath called you out of darkness into His marvel- 
 lous light." I conceive this method the true one, lying, in fact, at the 
 foundation of personal moral education, and of Christian civilization ; 
 and while I have always exercised the right of free election and unfet- 
 tered action, in matters of civic or social concern, I have left others as 
 free as myself, and have not sought ti) use the pulpit for furthering my 
 particular opinions. 1 am utterly certain that the one thing essential to 
 a just and noble conduct of life, such as honors the Lord, and prepares 
 for a career on higher levels, is the sense in men of the greatness of 
 
20 DISCOURSE. 
 
 Immortality, of the glory of Christ, and of their personal relationship 
 to Him as Saviour and Judge. Whatever commends itself to tlie 
 believing and loving heart, under this illumination, cannot ofl'end the 
 law of the Spirit. To substitute for it any precise rubrical code of 
 mandatory uiaxims does equal dishonor to the servant and to the Lord. 
 
 Even on themes touching directly the spiritual life, I have felt that 
 a congregation constituted like this needed thoughtful suggestion, with 
 the persuasions of careful argument, cpiite as much as any innnediate 
 stress of appeal. Archbishop What ely has forcibly said that the appeal 
 of a discourse is to its argument wliat the edge of a sabre is to its back. 
 If the blade is all edge, it will break at a stroke ; if all back, the blunt 
 weapon will bruise but not cut. This fairly applies to the structure of 
 a sermon ; and while earnest exiiortation has not, 1 am sure, been 
 wanting here, I have desired to make no appeal which had not been 
 justified by a fair and sufficient intellectual process. Perhaps I have 
 erred in seeking too uniformly to enlist the judgment before attempting 
 to animate feeling. I wholly agree with what Mr. Longfellow once 
 said : " To me a sermon is no sermon in which I cannot hear the heart 
 beat ;" as I also agree with the remark of another, which he quoted 
 with approval, that '' it is useless to apply the reasoning faculties to 
 things beyond their jurisdiction, in the realm of the affections." But 
 the general tone of the teaching here has seemed properly iiulicated by 
 the character of the church, as a permanent assembly of associated 
 cultured Christian households. It has not had it for its aim to silence 
 the gainsaying, to rebuke the Ijlaspheming, or to startle the ribald assail- 
 ant of the Gospel. It has been educational, more than hortatoiy ; an 
 appeal to the moral reason of men, and to their capacity for spiritual 
 affection, rather than to their excited sensibilities. Variety has been 
 sought, in theme and treatment, rather than intensity of ]3articular 
 appeal. The tone of the pulpit has been one, I trust, of affirmative 
 conviction, with an eager desire foi- the welfare of men, and the honor 
 of the L(jrtl ; but it has not been, as it well might have been in a differ- 
 ent environment, of rebuking I'emonstrance, of sharp invective against 
 offensive opinions, or of continually exciting admonition. 
 
 The tone of Christian feeling prevailing in the church has been 
 appropriate to the Faith which it has honoi-ed, and to the general char- 
 acter of the teaching through which that Faith has been set forth. 
 While characteristically cheerful imd hopeful, confident and courageous, 
 rather thoughtful than sentimental, rather strong in purpose than quick 
 in emotion, it has been also sympathetic, energetic, often impassioned, 
 always intelligently and adoringly devout. I speak of it with assurance. 
 
DISCOURSE. 31 
 
 because I have watched it so many years. There have been times in 
 our history when fervor ot" feeling rose to intensity, and when tlie swing 
 of an impulsive enthusiasm was in all the religious activity of the 
 church. We have only to regret that such seasons have not been more 
 frequent, that such states of feeling have not been permanent. There 
 have been individuals among us, often, in whom the sorrowful sense of 
 sin, justitied by their view of the Divine holiness, has pierced and trans- 
 ti.xed the sensitive spirit, making it for the time wholly incapable of 
 confident hope ; and there have been others in whom a certain mystical 
 rapture — what they felt to be a miraculous peace — has followed grief, 
 preceded great duty, become the incentive to great endurance, or the 
 reward of supreme consecration. Sometimes, especially at the sacrament, 
 the very air of the church has seemed charged with an influence from the 
 unmeasm-ed majesty, from the beauty beyond thought, of worlds unseen. 
 It has seemed to us then as if the rush of angelic plumes were not 
 far off; as if gleams were shot upon our faces from gates of pearl. 
 
 But in general the tone of feeling here has been, as I have saiti, if 
 not always intense, yet not, on the other hand, inert or intermittent. It 
 has been liberal, conscientious, resolute, hopeful ; with its penitence 
 suffused by the light of the promises; its enterprise inspired by the 
 sense of accordance with a Divine plan ; its affection exalted by the 
 clear apprehension of the sacrifice of the Lord ; its quietness of spirit 
 replenished by assurance of His supremacy. The temper which counts 
 service a joy has been combined in it with the sweet expectation which 
 finds the coming celestial felicities predicted in the heart, as well as 
 foreshadowed in the images of prophecy, and sublimely foretold by the 
 Cross. " I like the vital restfulness of this church," a lady said to me 
 years ago, who had recently come to it : "I seem, when I worship here, 
 to be girt about by invisible helps, with the spirit braced on eternal 
 realities." '' I go from the church," many have said, " feeling mot'e 
 distinctly my immortal relations, with life more noble and sacred than 
 before." I have felt the same influence often present, in private as well 
 as in public ministrations. It has faced me amid scenes as startling and 
 sad as one ever meets on the pages of romance. It has been an elixir 
 of life to the weak, and has conquered and dispersed the shadows of 
 death. Radiant and memorable has been its expression on the faces of 
 those who across the crumbling edges of time were looking to the 
 Immensities, wherein the Lord, sovereign and tender, seemed to rise 
 before them in palpable presence. There have been emergencies in not 
 a few lives, of those present or gone, where nothing could have helped 
 except the religion here familiar. There are rooms in the city in which. 
 
22 DISCOURSE. 
 
 lias appeared an almost visible glory, as from shining salients pushed 
 forth in front of heavenly walls. If any one has needed a fresh illus- 
 tration of the power of the Gospel, under God's grace, to inspire and 
 nurture a spiritual life distinct from anything which society produces, 
 or which learning, ethics, and art inspire, I cannot but feel that here it 
 has been offered. 
 
 A chui'ch constituted like this, and free for any action which may tend 
 to invigorate and enrich its church-life, has naturally made its Ordei' of 
 Worship repi-esent its own judgment as to what for it would be happiest 
 and best. Without haste, but with the timely and plastic touch of an 
 intelligent choice, it has sliaped and expanded this, till, without departing 
 essentially or largely from that adopted in other churches of a non- 
 prelatical constitution, the social element takes an increased prominence 
 in it, and the office of worship becomes one of common concern and 
 attractive dignity, not a mere incident to the preaching of sermons. 
 
 No prescribed forms of prayer have been used among us, except as 
 the prayer of General Supplication is closed with the Lord's Pi'ayer, in 
 which the congregation andibl}^ unites. Even this seemed at first, to 
 some who had been bred in the Puritan traditions, an innovation of a 
 questionable nature. But a general feeling, reverent and resolute, 
 insisted upon it, more than twenty years since. The responsive reading 
 of the Psalms, at each service, by the Pastor and the people, was asso- 
 ciated with this ; and, at a later time, the recital together of the Apostles' 
 Creed. The Gloria Pati'i, which follows the Creed, appropriately 
 closes the opening worship, which is exclusively of prayer and praise, 
 with the direct Divine instruetion conveyed by a lesson from the 
 Scripture. The sermon which is to follow is preceded by a hymn sung 
 by the choir as a prelude to it, not by the congregation as an act of 
 praise. In rendering this hymn the choir has a ministerial ofiice, 
 peculiar to itself, of inspiring power, and of delightful significance. 
 When sung with tenderness or majestic foz'ce, to music sympathetically 
 selected or arranged, such a hymn has had often a memorable eifect, 
 touching the heart with the patlios of penitence, or with glad aspiration, 
 sometimes opening the heavens more clearly before us, through distincter 
 vision of the Lord on His tiirone, and of tlie great Immortality. I have 
 been consciously animated by it to speak to congregations into whose 
 minds it had put a fine and powerful impulse. With devout feeling 
 matching and crowning its nnrsical culture, a choir has power, by such 
 a service, to illuminate and impress the following sermon, perhaps 
 beyond its own conception. Worthily performed, its office, on the 
 earthly levels, is like that of the shining ministering spirits who stand 
 
DISCOURSE. 33 
 
 before God, and who go from His presence on wings whose every beat 
 is music, to speak glad tidings to the Church and the World. 
 
 Aside from this choir-hymn, giving musical rendering to a theme or 
 feeling prelusive to the sermon, and aside from an opening anthem in 
 the evening, the singing of the cliurch is a popular service, led by the 
 choir, from the Doxology with which it commences, to the evening 
 Doxology with which it concludes. In the evening, after the read- 
 ing of the Psalter, a chant takes the place of the Creed ; but it is one 
 of a brief series of permanent chants, sung to appropriate ecclesiastical 
 music, in which the assembled worshippers unite. It is never intended 
 for artistic display, or to serve as the vehicle of musical novelties. 
 
 The changes thus gradually made have not been designed, as they 
 are not adapted, to make our worship more ornamental, oi- more agree- 
 able to an importunate esthetic taste. On the other hand, each par- 
 ticular of change has been subordinated to the constant purpose of 
 making the worship more reverent and sympathetic, and of engaging 
 the largest number to take personal part in it. Of course, the changes 
 have not been designed to assimilate our mode of worship to that 
 obtaining in any communion using a liturgy ; for to this, also, they are 
 not adapted. We are not insensible to the various excellences of the 
 Anglican liturgy: its venerable associations, its rhythmic forms, the 
 majestic cadences of its prayer and praise, the suggestions and incen- 
 tives of devout feeling infolded in phrases some of whicli it transports 
 from the age of the Catacombs. Familiarity with it is part of our 
 English inheritance; and we quite understand, if we do not share, the 
 affectionate regard for it of those who would nowise give it up, though 
 they anxiously desire to make it more flexible, and to add richness to 
 it. But for oui'selves we, as a body, distinctly prefer a form of worship 
 in which prayer shall be free, offered by the Minister " according to his 
 ability," as it was in the day of .lustin Martyr, uttering directly' the 
 heart of the speaker to Him who heareth, and carrying up the hearts of 
 others on the fervent pleading of personal desire ; yet in which, also, 
 the social element shall have its proper and permanent place, children 
 taking part in it with their parents, and the assembled Christian house- 
 holds, united in faith, and in the service of grateful adoration, lifting 
 spirit and voice in common praise. The flower is no more truly deter- 
 mined, in form and fragrance, by the seed from which it springs, than 
 is our particular Order of Worship by the social and spiritual character 
 and culture of the cliurch which has shaped it. If it should ever be 
 further modified, this will certainly be done under the same controlling 
 law. It is gratifying to see how surely and widely a similar spirit in 
 
24 DISCO URSE. 
 
 otlier churches is working itself into similar expression. In this, as in 
 all departments of life, the variety and richness of diversified unity are 
 the natural truit of intelligent treedom. 
 
 It is another tendency natural to a church constituted like this, and 
 developed along its special lines, to attach peculiar tenderness and 
 sacredness to the Baptism of children, to invest this with forms of a 
 gracious solemnity, and to follow it with a service, separate from itself, 
 yet allied and supplemental. The days on which the rite is adminis- 
 tered are those on which, at a later hour, the Lord's Supper is celehrated. 
 The initial rite has its proper yilace in the front of the Morning Service, 
 succeeding directly the Invocation. While the parents, with their chil- 
 dren, are assembling at the font, organ and choir fill the church with a 
 welcouiing chant. Before the baptism a public Covenant is accepted 
 by the parents, with God and with the Church, pledging them to train 
 the children whom they pi'csent in the knowledge of Christ, and for 
 His gloi'y. After the bajitism, and the following prayer, a closing chant 
 is sung by the choir, as tlic ]>arents withdraw. The name of each child, 
 with the date of its birth, the date of its baptism, and with the names 
 of its parents, is permanently recorded on the Eegister of the church. 
 
 So far, no doubt, the service in substance corresponds Mith tliat 
 observed in other churches, our only aim being to iiiake as distinct and 
 impressive as we may the import and the promise, the sweetness and the 
 dignity, which belong to the rite. But when the children so baptized 
 have reached the age of seven years, they are met by an additional 
 service, arranged specially for them, to remind them that the church 
 holds them in its remembrance and its aflfectionate hope, and that it 
 desires to open before them, plainly and fully, the Way of Life. On 
 the opening Sunday of each new year those who dui'ing the preceding 
 year have passed from infancy into childhood are again assembled, 
 around the font at which they were baptized, and each receives from 
 the hand of the Pastor a copy of the Scriptures, in a beautiful and 
 complete English edition, presented to it on behalf of the church. On 
 the cover this bears the inscription, "The Church of the Pilgrims, to a 
 Child of the Covenant." On the inside the name of the child is writ- 
 ten, with the date of its bii'th, tlie date of its baptism, and the signature 
 of the Pastor. After the Bibles ha\e been distributed, with a flower- 
 token to every child, a prayer is ottered, — of thanksgiving for the con- 
 tinued life of those thus reassembled, of renewed consecration of each 
 of them to the Lord, with su|)plication for His blessing upon them, 
 njion the households from which they come, and upon the churcli to 
 which they are bound by sacred ties, and with tender remembrance of 
 
DISCOURSE. 25 
 
 those before wliose tearful eyes tbc occasion brings up tlie vanished 
 forms of children siiniiariy consecrated as baijes, and already gone to be 
 with tlie saints. The Pastor, for the church, greets eacli child "with 
 a holy kiss;"' and after the benediction they are again dispersed to 
 their places, in the joyful expectation that they will stand, in after 
 years, in an equal group, before the Table of the Lord, and finally at 
 His Marriage Supper. 
 
 I know that we sliall unite in saving that no service known anions 
 US is more delightful or impressive than this; and certaiuly no copies 
 of the Bible, in the hands of the young, or of those who having received 
 them in childhood still retain them in middle life, are more fondly 
 prized or more affectionately used. In not a few instances a child dving 
 in faith and hope has wished the last words read in its hearing, or read by 
 its coffin, to be read from its beloved "Church Bible." I only wcmder 
 that the custom observed here for many years, and which will here 
 be as permanent as the chureli, has not been elsewheiv and widely 
 adopted. 
 
 It is only natural that this care for the children nnrtured in our 
 households should extend to the Sunday School, and provide rherein for 
 their assiduous Christian training. It has sometimes been the fact, it 
 may be still in some congregations, that the Sunday School is in a large 
 measure independent of the church, having rules, officers, and methods 
 of its own, with a distinctly self-centred life which repels instead of 
 inviting or welcoming church-supervision. I have no pi-esent criticism 
 to make upon such an arrangement. I speak of it only to emphasize 
 the difference in the relations with which we are tamiliar between the 
 church and the school. Here, the teaching body is simply the church 
 itself, acting through selected representative members, to assist parents 
 in training the young in spiritual things. The Superintendent and 
 Assistant Superintendent must, by our rules, be members of the church, 
 who have previously had experience in the school ; they can be desig- 
 nated only by those, also members of the church, who have been asso- 
 ciated with them in teaching; and this primary election is not valid 
 until confirmed by the church, at its annual meeting. The school, bv 
 its constitution, is under the constant oversight of the church, with 
 more of responsibility committed to the Pastor in connection with its 
 work than he has always been able to meet. Its reports are annually 
 presented to the church, and become a part of its' permanent records. 
 
 It has thus come to |)ass that the officers of the school have uni- 
 formly been of the most honored and bclcjvod in the church; that the 
 beautiful, commodious, and stately liome-clia]>el a'ljiropriated to it has 
 
26 DISCOURSE. 
 
 been emphatically the Children's Church ; and that many have come 
 from it, and are all the time coming, to sit with ns at the holy Lord's 
 Supper. The home-school of a church like this can never be remark- 
 able for nuaibers. It lias no adjacent mission-tield. Its range is limited 
 to the circuit of the parish ; and the number of households embraced in 
 this, living in convenient proximity to the church, and including young 
 children, is not in the natui'e of the case very large. Xumbers, too, 
 pass out of the school, year by year, to chapel or mission, to take on 
 themselves the work of teaching, leaving places not always at once 
 supplied. The schools which reckon their pupils by thousands would 
 therefore think ours, with an average of perhaps three hundred mem- 
 bers, extremel}' small. But what we aim at, and feel for us to be indis- 
 pensable, is that the spiritual life of the church shall pervade and ani- 
 mate the school, while the school, on the other hand, shall refresh, 
 replenish, and continue that life, adding to our membership, while add- 
 ing all the time to the knowledge, faith, and fervor of the church. I 
 gladly testify that in a measure very gratifying certainly, if not unusual, 
 these effects have here been attained. Scholars have found, as well as 
 
 teachers, that 
 
 " Sundays the pillars are 
 On which Heaven's palace arched lies." 
 
 Those Sundays have been made lovelier to their hearts by the sweet 
 and gracious instruction which has met them, in things Divine ; and into 
 many households, as into my own, has come an influence, beautiful and 
 strong, from the teaching and prayer, and the jubilant praise, of the Sun- 
 day School chapel. The church of the futu]'e is there being all the time 
 trained and moulded liy the church of the present, to tollow, and I trust 
 to surpass it. 
 
 A few words may not be improper u])(>n the social character of the 
 church. Composed as it is of Christian households, associated through 
 their faith in the Master, by their purpose to serve Him, and their 
 desire to rise through Ilim into a nobler spiritual life, it ought to be 
 pervaded by social sympathies quick and constant, knitting all in 
 delightful union, and growing more intimate as the years pass on. In a 
 measure such natural expectations have been realized here, if not in any 
 ideal completeness. We may hope that they point to a yet more full 
 and charming development, to be reached by and by. 
 
 Undoubtedly, if any have come to us, as some perhaps did come in 
 oui- earlier history, expecting an instant effervescence of welcome, as to 
 those whose aid was imminently needed, they have been disappointed, 
 and may have felt that the spirit of the church was inditlerent and cool. 
 
DISCOURSE. 27 
 
 1 am sadly aware, too, that excellent families who have tarried with us 
 perhaps tor years, but who have taken no persunal part in our social re- 
 unions, or in the interior activities of the church, liave felt something of 
 reserve in its temper and tone, and have missed the subtile and cordial 
 sympathies for which they had looked. Xor do I In" any means imply 
 that we have been without fault in this. We live in an incessant hurry of 
 affairs, at a centre upon which converge the lines of continental enter- 
 prise, amid the unceasing and imperious demands of business and 
 society. It is not easy to know, personally, all whom we should be glad 
 to know ; while the intimate affiliations of symj>athizing minds must 
 always be personal, not official, the spontaneous fruit of mutual acquaint- 
 ance, not the purposed result of a conscious effort. The very perma- 
 nence of such a congregation involves a danger, limiting or menacing 
 at just this point the richest development of the conmion church-life. 
 Families long associated in it become by degrees so affectionately allied, 
 and so content in their happy relations, that they fail to reach out as 
 promptly as they shoidd to welcome others to a fellowship as complete. 
 It is not pride, or a selfish exclusiveness, Vthich detains them from this, 
 so much as an undefined passiveness of temper, which has found its own 
 rest in pleasant companionships, and which now expects others, without 
 hindrance or help, to do the same. It is by no means a beautiful spirit, 
 or one befitting a Christian church ; but it easily grows up, without 
 purpose or notice, in a congregation of many years standing, whose 
 position is secure, whose means are equal to its needs, and most of 
 whose families have known each other long. After an interval it gives 
 way ; but in that interval those who have come from villages or cities 
 where their social relations had been wide and delightful, reaching back 
 very likely to their earliest remembrance, have easily felt themselves 
 sojourners and strangers, parted from an old home, with no new one to 
 greet them. 
 
 But if they have continued with us, and not holding themselves 
 shyly aloof have sought the opportunities for acquaintanceship and 
 friendship constantly presented in om- religious and social assemblies, in 
 the Chapel-school, the Home-school, the Young People's meetings, or 
 other organizations for counsel and work, I hazard nothing in saying 
 that thev have found themselves embosomed ere lows, in a welcominjr 
 regard most genial and sympathetic. They have often, I know, been 
 themselves surprised at the readiness, even eagerness, with which the 
 congregation has expanded its fellowship to infold them as closelv as if 
 they had been of it from the beginning. And the fellowship has not 
 been in form and in name, but the outreach of glad and saluting confi- 
 
28 DISCOURSE. 
 
 deuce. I know of no congreg;itiou where the spirit has prevailed more 
 consistently than here, of ati'ectionate thoughtfulness for those joined 
 with us in worship and work, of earnest solicitude when sickness has 
 threatened any of our tauiilies, of heartiest sympathy when grief has 
 come. Tour consciousness, I am sure, will in this respond to mine. I 
 have oftentimes been freshly and delightfully reminded of the fact when 
 tliose who had been here only for a time, and then had left for residence 
 elsewhere, have spoken to me, or have sent me word, of the loving 
 remembrance in which they continued to hold the church, for the happy 
 fellowsliips which in it tiiey had found, and the spiritual help which those 
 fellowships luid brought. Nor do I think that this experience has been 
 at aiiv time more general or spontaneous than it is at this hour. 
 
 I have sjioken thus far, as it iias seemed fit that I should, only of 
 the inner life of the church, as that has appeared to those immediately 
 familiar with it. The work atteniiited, and in a measure accomplished 
 by it, in its outward activities, we may also properly recall. We have 
 not lived a cloistered life. We have not been disproportionately 
 absorbed in high meditation, or in devout revery. The pressure of the 
 Gospel has been always upon us, prompting to immediate practical use- 
 fulness ; and while we have done nothing the remembrance of which 
 should stimulate pride, we may, I think, with manifold reason, offer 
 praises to God for the opportunities opened before us, and for the 
 measui'e of power and consecration with which we have been enabled 
 to use them. 
 
 A church composed of Christian households, neighboring in residence, 
 and touched by one impulse from the Master, must natui-ally be inter- 
 ested, actively and largely, in what concerns the prosperity of the city 
 m the midst of which its life goes on ; especially in what tends to foster 
 and further the liberal, humane, and religious institutions appearing in 
 the city, and to advance its generous culture. Such an interest has been 
 shown by this church with unabating and liberal vigor, since my 
 aecpiaintance with it began. It has not been in preeminent degree a 
 wealthy church, thougli most of the' families associated in it have been 
 prosperous in affairs, and it always has embraced some families of 
 wealth. But the duty of usefulness has had general recognition, and 
 the gifts proceeding from the congregation for the jJromotion of public 
 interests have been constant and large. In its singularly rapid and wide 
 expansion the city has needed, more than most, large outlays of money, 
 as w'ell as the push of a foreseeing and liberal enterprise, to make its 
 institutions keep abreast with the times. It is pleasant to remember 
 that in both forms of aid, financial and moral, we have done our full part. 
 
DISCO V USE. 29 
 
 Tlic only institutions here, of a literary or pliilaiitliropic character, 
 when my acquaintance with Brooklyn began, were the small and recent 
 Orphan Asylum, then on Cumberland street, the City Hospital, w^hich 
 had an act of inci)ri)()ratioii but nothin<;- hesitles. the Association for 
 improving the condition of the Poor, still in its infancy, the Brooklyn 
 Institute "on "Washington street, which had no pmmising pecuniary 
 basis, and the Female Academy, which had been opened a few months 
 before. Only a small nucleus of a library, for tiie use of subscribers, 
 existed in the city. The City Bible Society had scarcely a name to 
 live; the Sunday School Union, which now includes nearly a hundred 
 and fifty sciiools in our part of the city, with more than sixty thousand 
 teachers and scholars, was apparently not strong enough then to pi-eserve 
 its own records ; and what has been since the prosperous and efficient 
 City Mission Society was a changing company of individual Christians 
 vol'unteei-ing year by year to distribute tracts. It had no legal organi- 
 zation, was limited in effort, faint in courage, always in debt. Its entire 
 revenue for the year preceding the beginning of this pastorate was 8113. 
 
 Tiie changes which have since been accomplished you have seen ; 
 and the record of them is one in which all who have had a part in 
 securing them may well take pleasure. You know how the Orphan 
 Asylum, in its better location, has been splendidly housed in its new 
 building— a superb Cathedral of charity— and how it is being not only 
 sustained in its continually expanding work, but is being slowly but 
 surely endowed; how the City Hospital has unfolded into a great insti- 
 tution, with ample equipment of modern appliances ; how the Associa- 
 tion for the relief of the Poor has secured its commodious building, 
 ■with its abundant annual revenue; and how the burned Female 
 Academy rose from its ashes, into the ampler accommodation and the 
 statelier "beauty of the Packer Institute, known and honored throughout 
 the land. You know, too. how other kindred institutions have been 
 added to these, with a rapidity constantly surprising, yet in a strength 
 which justifies glad admiration and hope. The Long Island College 
 Hospital, the Homeopathic Hospital, the Eye and Ear Hospital, have 
 been among these. The :\Iethodist Hospital, to which a public-spirited 
 gentleman, not of our connnunion though then worshipping with us, 
 gave four hundred thousand doUars, still awaits its completion. 
 
 Of more general humane institutions, the Old Ladies' Home, the 
 Home for Aged Men, the Children's Aid Society, with its Newsboys' 
 Home, the Diet Dispensary, the Industrial School Association, the 
 Home for the Friendless, the Female Employment Society, the Home 
 for Working Women, the Brooklyn Nursery, the Faith Home, the Union 
 
30 DISCOURSE. 
 
 for Christian Work, the Home for Consumptives, the Bureau of Chari- 
 ties, the Seaside Home, witb its deiiglitful summer arrangements for 
 mothers and children among the poor, tlie Christian Association, with 
 its magnificent building, and its important though inadequate fund of 
 $150,000— all these have been established within this term of forty 
 years. So have equally the literary or educational institutions — the 
 Polytechnic Institute, with its constantly enriched and multiplied 
 courses, the Adelphi Academy, the Historical Society, the Philharmonic 
 Society, the Brooklyn Library, the Art Association, the Academy of 
 Music, besides flourishing and useful private institutions for culture or 
 for literary pleasure. As no other community along the seaboard has 
 increased like this, from small beginnings to an aggregate population of 
 nearly or quite three quarters of a million, in these forty years, so in no 
 other have such incessant demands been made on those liberally disposed 
 for large ct)ntributions toward the equipment which a great city needs. 
 In Boston, in New York, in PJiiladelphia, Baltimore, in smaller cities 
 like Hartford or Providence, a consitlerable proportion of such institu- 
 tions now existing have been inherited from the past. They have 
 needed only to be maintained, or perhaps more abundantly furnislied. 
 Here they have had to be built from the base ; and the burden of doing 
 it has been laid upon a people not unusually wealthy, not commonly 
 native to the soil, and hardly capable, by its recent and changeful com- 
 position, of being pervaded by that public spirit which comes as a 
 tradition to those long resident in a town, whose parents perhaps were 
 there before them. 
 
 As a matter of course, much of the work has had to be done by 
 comparatively few. It has had to be done almost wholly by the living, 
 since important legacies to public institutions from the wealth of the 
 dying have been distressingly few. It has brought its privilege to those 
 who have done it, but it also has laid heavy duties upon them. On no 
 other continent could an equal achievement have been proposed — to 
 supply a vast city, within a few years, by voluntary gifts, with the 
 needful institutions for training its intelligence, moulding its character, 
 organizing its charity, ennobling its future. The work is by no means 
 wholly done ; but so far as it has proceeded it is simi»ly due to the truth 
 to say that those united in this congregation have taken their share with 
 liberal energy, have been prompt to lead when that was required, as 
 well as always i-eady to follow. The exact tigures of the gifts made 
 here to institutions within the city, I cannot command ; but except in 
 the instance of the Adelphi Academy, remote from us, and having its 
 numerous and wealthy constituency upon its own ground, I think that 
 
DISCOURSE. 31 
 
 «o one of those which I have named has tailed tufiiid among us effective 
 assistance. Several of them liad here their initiative. Ail of them 
 have received large aids in money, with constant and vigorous moral 
 succor. 
 
 Nor can it be said tliat the sympathies of this people have betMi 
 limited to the community of which it is part. The first large contribu- 
 tion here made, in the second or third year of my ministry, was of eight 
 tiiousand dollars for a distant college, on the Western lleserve. Much 
 lari>-er individual contributions have since been made to colleges at the 
 East. To many churches, near or remote, gifts have been forwarded, 
 aggregating tens of thousands of dollars, for the erection of houses of 
 worshiji, or of parsonage-homes ; while our regular monthly contribu- 
 tions have not l>een interrupted, to the Home Missionary work, to the 
 cause of Foreign Missions, to t!ie Seaman's Friend Society, to the Asso- 
 ciation which specially ministers to the red and the black races in our 
 land, to the societies which plant Sunday Schools, or erect and i'urnish 
 new houses of prayer, or distribute the Bible, to the cause of Chi-istian 
 education. The society whicli seeks to establish Sunday Schools in 
 foreign countries had its origin here, and has now in this church some 
 principal officers. The contributions to all these branches of Christian 
 etibrt have been sometimes enlarged, as families have beconie more 
 interested in them, or again have been reduced, as such families have 
 removed, to be replaced by others less conversant with the work or less 
 active in promoting it. But the general level has been fairly main- 
 tained ; and from what I know of individual gifts, passing outside the 
 treasury of the church, and not unfrecpiently through my own hands, 
 as well as from the treasurer's collective reports, I hazard nothing in 
 saying that twenty thousand dollars a year, for the forty years, would be 
 less rather than more than the amount here contributed to philanthropic 
 and Ciiristian institutions. It has far surpassed what has been used, in 
 the same tei'm of years, for our current expenses. The sum is not 
 extraordinary, of course, as compared with the gifts of wealthier 
 churches ; but it shows a spirit of steady liberality, for whicli we may 
 appropriately give thanks. 
 
 It has been a special aim of the church, from an early period in its 
 history, to make tiie Gospel which it honors and loves familiar to the 
 poor, and to carry the message of Divine invitation to those in the city 
 to whom this otherwise might not go. We gladly offer free seats in this 
 house, to the number of nearly two hundred, to those who wish to hear 
 the Gospel but who can make no pecuniary return. The rental of onr 
 pews is carefully adjusted, so that, while some of them bear an annual 
 
33 DISCOURSE. 
 
 cbarg'e of luiiidreds of dolhirs, otlieiy are rated at fifty, or forty, or 
 twenty dollars a year. We have gladly aided churclies in parts of the 
 town which at the time were less attrautive than this, and have seen 
 some of them grow into splendid strength and tame. For many years 
 we eoiitriinited annually thousands of dollars to the City Mission Society, 
 besides giving important assistance in practical counsel and in stimula- 
 ting purpose. With the increase in the number of churches cooperating 
 in its work, with the augmented demands made ui)on us by our particular 
 Mission-field, I am sorry to add, with the passing from among us by 
 removal or death of some to whom the Society had been dear, our con- 
 tributions to it for several years have been seriously diminished. It will 
 be an omen of good to the church, and to the city, when they rise again, 
 as 1 trust they soon will, to the higiiest level which they ever have 
 reached. A Mission-school among the poor was opened by members of 
 this congregation nearly forty years since, while such schools were still 
 infrequent. Though limited, and sometimes seriously threatened, by 
 changes in the population around it, tliis was not suffered to languish or 
 decay ; and ten years since the church erected, and amply furnished, a 
 charming Chapel, at a cost of forty thousand dollars, into which the 
 school was then transpoi'ted. At an annual charge of some thousands 
 of dollars, which the Society gladly meets, a vigorous Sunday-school is 
 there maintained, of eight hundred members, with Infant classes, Bible 
 classes, a Sewing-school, an Industi'ial Club, and a free Library ; a 
 faithful Minister of the Gospel conducts morning and evening services 
 on Sunday, with a weekly prayer-meeting, and does a large work in 
 pastoral visitation ; a second meeting for conference and prayer is cari'ied 
 on by the young people of the church ; while from eighty to a hundred 
 of our members and officers take active and effective part in the Sunday 
 instruction. 
 
 I do not affirm that all which has thus been done by the church for 
 the ministry of the Gospel to those not possessed of worldly goods 
 ought to content us. The plan may not be ideally complete. But it 
 certainly shows that the Christian households here associated, M'hile 
 happy in tlieir own fellowships and services, have not been unmindful 
 of the duty and the privilege of ministering to others. Nor do I yet 
 see another plan, for similar endeavors, better conceived or more com- 
 prehensive. The location of the church is in a part of the city remote 
 from the poor. Though our ft-ee seats are largely occupied, there are 
 many who will not take the time, or make the journey, needed to reach 
 them. There is with some an unnecessary shyness, nowise dishonorable 
 though wholly superfluous, about entering with confidence and regular 
 
DISCOURSE. 33 
 
 frequeiicv into a buildiiiij: helonsjing to others, to the iiiaiiitenance of 
 whose services they do not c-oiitribiite. Under these coiiditioiis, it seems 
 necessary to try to make the Gospel familiarly at home upon their own 
 ground. A church must of course have a certain revenue, as truly as 
 a college or an asylum, a family, or a city. If Tiot derived from perma- 
 nent endowments, which are rarely beneticial, or painfully wrung from 
 scanty purses under the threat of future terrors, or secured in some indi- 
 rect criss-cross fashion, on what is known as the Free-church arrange- 
 ment, this must be derived from a fair and detinite annual tax settled 
 upon the pews. If then extravagant salaries are not paid, and if in 
 addition to many free seats within its own walls, and universally free 
 seats in its beautiful Chapel, a church supports constantly from two to 
 four missionary teachers, with a cultivated lady-reader of the Bible to 
 visit scattered families at their homes, and if scores of its members take 
 active and earnest personal part in its Mission-work, I see not that it is 
 properly liable to any sharp criticism for alleged neglect or disdain of 
 the poor. Certainly such criticism comes with ill grace from those who 
 know not in themselves, and cannot carry to others, Christ's gracious 
 message of power and promise ; who have nothing whatever to otter to the 
 poor but rum and blasphemy, for both of which they expect to be paid. 
 Upon its own edifice the congregation here worshipping has naturally 
 made liberal expenditures, but it has needed what it has paid lor, and 
 the outlay has been nowise extravagant, as compared with that simul- 
 taneously made upon neighboring private houses, or with the aggregate 
 wealth of the Society. Having cost originalh' sixty-tive thousand dol- 
 lars, or more than twice the primary estimate, a del)t was left upon the 
 church-building which was fully paid a year or two after the Pastor 
 came. Several years later it became necessary to substantially recon- 
 struct the interior, giving additional security' to the roof. Another 
 expenditure, of nearly twenty thousand dollars, was thus incurred, and 
 was speedily met. After fifteen years more it appeared needful to pur- 
 chase additional adjoining lots, and to extend the entire structure, gain- 
 ing larger space for the Sunday-assemblies, w'hile adding new lecture 
 and conference rooms, a new Sunday-school chapel, more modern 
 pews, a richer organ, with an ampler and pleasanter Pastor's Study. 
 The work was undertaken with intelliarent courafre ; but again the 
 expenditure far exceeded the careful estimates, surpassing, indeed, the 
 entire preceding cost of the building. A large indebtedness was thus 
 incurred, which the congregation with vigorous will faced and paid 
 while the Pastor was absent in Euro])e, and when it seemed by no 
 means certain that he could ever resume his work. He has not vet for- 
 
34 DISCOURSE. 
 
 gotten the thi-ill which shot a sudden wave of gh^dness thi-ough heart 
 and brain on a May-day in Home, when a telegram announced the 
 result; nor has he ever ceased to rejoice in the illustration, so splendidly 
 given, of the unyielding and generous strength of this beloved Society. 
 A hotel-parloi*, looking out upon the Piazza di Spagna, will have for 
 him always this signal association. 
 
 As the result of such pecuniar}' outlays, we have a church-editice, 
 not as vast as some, but stately and attractive, and as complete in its 
 permanent appointments as can easily be found ; \vith seats for fourteen 
 hundred in its pews, with sufficient and inviting auxiliary rooms, with 
 its whole purpose expressed in its structure, and with no burden of 
 indebtedness upon it. It corresponds closely with the character and 
 aims of the spiritual bodj' woi'shipping in it. It is puritanic, in its solid 
 strength of foundations and walls, and in the interior constructions of 
 oak ; but it delightfully adds grace to strength, elegance of line, and an 
 unobtrusive cliarm of color, to the massive solidity. A piece of Plymouth 
 Ilock has been from the tirst imbedded in its tower; but its basal stones 
 lie deeper than that, even as of the spiritual house which it shelters 
 and represents the corner-stone is neither the theolog}' nor the order of 
 the Pilgrims, but the Person and Work of Christ. The story of its 
 growth, answering to the steady growth of its congregation, is recorded 
 in its extending walls, and gives tliem already a historical interest. The 
 rhythmic lines of its interior, with the rich and delicate harmonies of 
 its tints, invest it with beauty and dignity to our eyes ; while the sweet 
 majest}' of the tones of its bell supplies an almost articulate voice to 
 the feeling of Christian adoration which pervades it. As we regard it, 
 the whole building delightfully corresponds with the sentiment and 
 purpose, the lofty thought, the spii"itual culture, the devout aspiration, 
 w-hich are sought to be expressed and nourished within it. We trust 
 that it will stand for many generations, to represent the truth which 
 here has been preached, with the hope which by that truth has been 
 clierished, and to testify to those who daily pass it of the spheres on 
 high toward which its spire signiticantly points, and of the Master who 
 within it is praised and adored. 
 
 I have spoken of the church in its constitution, its spirit, and its 
 work, as I have seen them for forty years ; but the picture would i-emain 
 incomplete unless enclosed, as in an exterior marginal rim, by some 
 brief mention of the encompassing changes, social and civic as well as 
 religious, amid which this life has been proceeding. Set in the frame 
 of such an outline of outh'ing change, the essential consistency and con- 
 tinuity of that life may become to us still more distinct. 
 
DISCOURSE. 35 
 
 The clianges in its own membership have been many. There have 
 been received into it, from the beginning, 2,144 members, 1.2;>9 upon 
 letters from other chnrches, 905 on confession of their faith — ail the 
 latter, with one exception, since this pastorate began. More than three 
 himdred have died while connected with the church. 297 as noted on 
 our records ; and S49 have been dismissed with commendatory letters, 
 or have been otherwise separated from the church. The names of 998 
 members are now npon our roll, tliough more than a hundred of them 
 are marked as absentees, some of whom no doubt have died in their 
 absence. Ten of those here taught in religion have entered the ministry 
 of the Gospel ; and several of them are now renderiHg faithful service, 
 at the East or the West. 
 
 These numbers of course are nowise large as compared with those 
 on the records of churches which number their communicants hy 
 thousands, their annual accessions not unfrequently by hundreds. But 
 remembering how retired and comparative!}' permanent this congrega- 
 tion has been, and that from an early jieriod in its history at least 
 one half of those worshipping in it had been already enrolled as com- 
 municants, we may reasonably feel that God has accepted and blessed 
 oiir woi'k, causing the church, under the dew of His grace, to grow as 
 the lily, and giving to it a beauty as of the olive-tree, if He has not 
 enabled it to spread widely its branches, and to cast forth its roots as 
 Lebanon. It is also to be remembered that the instances have been 
 many in which those from abroad attending school in the city, and for 
 the time worshipping with us, have here been led to a love for the Lord 
 the public confession of which they have afterward made, as was meet 
 and right, in the home-congregations to which they returned. 
 
 The changes in Christian circles around us have been rapid, and in the 
 aggregate sadly impressive. I think that every membei- of the Council 
 by which I was installed, la}' or clerical, has since passed from life on 
 earth. Certainly of the chief clerical members — Drs. Bacon, Blagden, 
 Spencer, Badger, Dr. Tiiompson, Dr. Dwight, Dr. Lansing, Dr. Adams, 
 my father, and others — not one remains to be to-day greeted by us. 
 Many other clergymen then or since eminent in the city have also 
 entered within the gates: — Drs. Cox, Lewis, Jacobus, McLane, Green- 
 leaf; Drs. Stone, Vinton, Cutler, Diller, "\V. H. Lewis; Dr. Taylor, Dr. 
 Brodhead, Dr. Xathan Bangs, Eev. Robert Seney, all of whom were 
 then here, with Dominie Johnson, highest of Anglicans, and most lov- 
 able of men ; Drs. Bethune, Budington, Kenned}', Rockwell, Rufus 
 Clark, Dr. Itiglis, Dr. Schenck, Dr. Guion, Drs. Elmendorf, Eells, 
 Kimball, Perry, Dixon, with many others, who came later. I am, I 
 
36 DISCOURSE. 
 
 believe, with one honored exception, the oldest Pastor, iu the order of 
 settlement, in active service in the same parish, in any Protestant com- 
 nuinion in New York or Brooklyn. Many of the churches immediately 
 around us have been served, as you know, by several Pastors, iu the 
 period reviewed : — the Fii-st Presbyterian Church by iive, the Baptist 
 Clmrch on Pierrepont street by six, the First Dutch Church by six, the 
 Church on the Heights by seven, Grace Church by iive, St. Ann's 
 Church b}^ four. Trinity Church by only three. It may not have implied 
 special wisdom on youi- j)art to be content with one ministry so long ; 
 but it shows how kindly God has dealt with us, and how genially con- 
 servative this Society has been. 
 
 The changes in the outward condition of the cities, now knit by the 
 Bridge into practical oneness, have been so many and so surjirising that 
 it seems impossible that others of like novelty and importance should 
 occur in another such term of years. At the time of my installation, as 
 some of you remember, we had no water in this city, save that which 
 came through the frequent street-pumps, or was gathered in cisterns 
 from the roofs. New York had received it only four years before, 
 through the then uniinished Croton Aqueduct. We had, on this side 
 of the river, no gas in our houses, or along our streets; no City Hall, or 
 municipal buildings ; of course no street-railways, and no telegraph con- 
 nections. One struck the country-road, winding between farms, a little 
 beyond the present City-Hall square. The city had no uniformed police. 
 The protection of it, so far as there was any, was iu the hands of the City 
 Watch, with two captains, two assistants, two watch-honses, and sixty 
 watchmen, divided into squads of fifteen each, to keep guard by turns 
 during day and night. The pay of the watchmen was tifty cents a day. 
 There were said to be also nine invisible constables, or one for each 
 •ward. The assessed value of real and personal property in the city was 
 less than twenty-seven millions of dollars ($26,933,r>16), or considerably 
 less than that of the real estate alone in the first ward to-day. There 
 were twelve public schools, with less than twenty-six hundred pupils, 
 maintained at a cost of $23,236, in place of the sixty-nine schools of 
 to-day, with sixty-eight thousand pupils, and an expenditure of 
 $1,600,000. Holy Trinity Church had not been opened. The build- 
 ing of Grace Church had not been begun. The Church on the Heights 
 was not commenced till four years later. The square on which this 
 church was erected was occupied, for the larger pai't, as a pasture for 
 cows. On the south side of Pemsen street, from Henry to Court 
 streets, there was not a house ; on the north side were but two. Mon- 
 tague street was as nearly without houses, and was not opened to the 
 
DISCOURSE. 37 
 
 river, where the "Wall-street ferry liad not been started. What is now 
 Prospect Park was a rough, dreary, malarious waste, with a few shanties 
 for colored people scattered among its intricate thickets. The hills on tliis 
 side of it, now I'apidly being covered with costly and attractive liouses, 
 were vacant uplands. Dr. Cox called his house, at the point where 
 Oxford street crosses Fulton, "Eusurl)an," as being in the country, 
 while connected with the town. His hold upon his people was thought 
 by some to have been weakened, by the fact that he had migrated so 
 far into the Island. The Bridge which connects us with Manhattan 
 Island, with its nightly crown of electric liglits, would have seemed 
 more incredible, if any one had dreamed of it, than a vision of angels 
 flaming forth upon the sky ; while a railroad in tiie air would have bewil- 
 dered the imagination, like a romancer's fancy of a flying stone sphinx. 
 Brooklyn was only known to the country, and was principally known 
 within itself, as ofl'ering a dormitoiy to the people of Xew York, and as 
 the last considerable place on the way to Greenwood. 
 
 Across the river the changes have been yet more conspicuous. 
 Castle Garden was then a place for great musical performances. Stately 
 residences stood around the Battery, or overlooked the Bowling Green. 
 Columbia College was on the old site, between Barclay and Murray 
 streets, and its ancient sycamores had not disappeared. Trinity Cluireh 
 had been recently erected. The Brick Church stood on what is now 
 known as Printing House Square. St. George's was on Beekman 
 street, at the corner of Clifl', and had attached parisliioners in Brooklyn. 
 The Tabernacle Church was on Broadway, between Anthony, now 
 known as Worth street, and Leonard. The New York Hospital was a 
 little below it, on the corner of Duane street. Dr. Macaulay was 
 preaching in Murray street, Dr. James Alexander in Duane street, Dr. 
 Adams in Broome street, Dr. Patton in Spring street. The whirl of the 
 citv, as on an axis, had hardly begun to carry churches northward, in 
 that continually unsatisfied search for permanent locations which seems 
 destined never to cease. On the east of the Bowery were fashionable 
 neighborhoods. Toward the west, St. John's Square, A^arick street, 
 Beach street, Laight street, were aristocratic. So, in their measure, were 
 Murray and Warren streets. ChildreTi played, and gardens blossomed, 
 where engines now throb, and warehouse-walls shut out the sky. Great 
 dry -goods' houses were in Pearl street. Pine street, sometimes in Wall 
 street. Broadway was a street for retail traffic, with boarding-houses, and 
 many hotels; but above Grand street it had houses for the wealthy. 
 St. Thomas' Church was on the corner of Houston street. Bond street 
 was full of dignity and riches. Washington Square was a recent centre 
 
38 DISCOURSE. 
 
 of opulent mansions. Union Square seemed the limit of the town ; and 
 the costly stone church which ])receded there the Tiffany warehouse was 
 not finished. The Astor Library was not founded. The Cooper Insti- 
 tute, and the Bible House, were not erected. The New York Historical 
 Society had no building of its own, but held its meetings in a I'oom of 
 the University, and kept them alive by adding oysters and coffee to the 
 graceful or learned literary papers. Fiftii Avenue, above the open 
 fields of what is now Madison Square, was a common road, enclosed by 
 fences. The Central Park lands were an unoccupied wild, of marsh 
 and rock, not purchased by tlie citj' till ten years later. 
 
 To those who remember New York and Brooklyn as they then were, 
 the succeeding changes liewilder thought, almost Ijaffle belief. The in- 
 cessant inrush of impetuous populations has swe])t the ancient landmarks 
 before it as spring freshets sweep before them tlie tiny dams which 
 children build. The compact, sociable, and hospitable towns of forty 
 years since liave disappeared amid sudden floods. The boundary lines 
 of either city have been flung widely out, to make room for the surging 
 immigration. This has multiplied already our local population nearly 
 or quite twelve-fold, and is pushing on to muster here soon a million 
 inhabitants. 
 
 The changes occurring in the country at large, in the same term of 
 years, have been proportionately vast, and some of them of a deejier 
 moral significance. When I stood in this pulpit on the stormy evening 
 of November 19th, 1846, Mr. James K. Polk was in the second year of 
 his Presidency, against whom, two years earlier, I had cast my first 
 national vote with the heartiest zeal. The war with Mexico had com- 
 menced, but the battles of Buena Vista and Cerro Gordo had not been 
 fought, nor Yera Cruz surrendered to our arms. It was still ten months 
 before our troops entered the capital. The Oregon Treaty with Great 
 Britain had been lately negotiated, but gold had not been found in 
 California, nor was there any hint in the air of the vast immigration 
 which was soon to draw an adventurous nation over the continent, and 
 to build a new empire along the Pacific. The first line of telegraph, 
 between Washington and Baltimore, had been in operation for two 
 years, and that between New York and Philadelphia for one year ; but 
 the novel invention was rather the wonder and the luxury of the few 
 than the instrument of the many, and hardly the faintest prophecy had 
 been given of the half-million miles of wire along which the messages of 
 eager millions now incessantly pass. The Oceanic Telegraph was no more 
 imagined than would have been an instrument for conversing with the 
 stars. The Erie Railroad was not opened; nor that on the banks of the 
 
DISCOURSE. 39 
 
 Iliulson River ; nor that between Xew Haven and New York. Less 
 than five thousand miles of railway-track had been laid in the conntrv 
 (4,9:30), as against the more than a hundred and thirty thousand miles 
 now built and operated. An honored Congregational minister irning to 
 Oregon the year after I came here, had to take eight months for the 
 joui-ney. He returned, some years since, in less than a week ; and now 
 he can speak from the same point to friends in this city, over the tele- 
 graph, more quickly than we can send a messenger to upper New York. 
 The National Union included twenty-nine States, instead of the thirty- 
 eight of to-day. It -nas years, of course, before Slavery and Freedom 
 met in their fierce grapple in Kansas ; fourteen years before the election 
 of Lincoln ; more than eighteen before the close of the Rebellion, with 
 the resulting destruction of Slavery. The Nation has been essentially 
 re-made, since this pastorate began, in larger proportions, on a nobler 
 and securer plan ; the empty spaces of its immense territories have been 
 largely occupied with villages and cities ; its population has been multi- 
 plied from twenty to more than sixty millions ; the moral and political 
 life which pervades it has been vastly enriched in power and promise ; 
 its place in the world, with its influence over the peoples of mankind, 
 has been signally exalted. Others, coming after us, will no doubt see 
 changes following these, of constant importance, and of secular ijiterest. 
 It seems impossible that they should see changes more radical or more 
 rapid than we have witnessed, or more thoroughly alive with prophetic 
 indications. 
 
 Yet the simultaneous changes in Europe have been scarcely less swift 
 or surprising. Louis Philippe seemed then established for life on the 
 throne of France, with the prospect of secure succession to his sons. 
 Louis Napoleon, recently escaped from the Castle of Ham, was brooding 
 in London, an impoverished exile. The long jiontificate of Pius Ninth 
 had just opened, on a liberal basis. The Northern Italian provinces, 
 famous and lovely, were under Austrian military government. The two 
 Sicilies moaned, without hope, beneath Bourbon oppression. What 
 whirls of revolution soon followed, you remember :— the ex-pulsion of 
 Louis Philippe from France; the Hungarian rebellion, bloodily sup- 
 pressed, only to become politically successful a few years later ; the 
 Battle-summer of 18i8, the first Presidency of Louis Napoleon, the 
 founding of the second Empire by the bloody surprise of the coup (Pekd. 
 To the children of to-day these seem a part of ancient history. So does 
 the Crimean War, or the sudden unification of Italy, with the ending of 
 the temporal power of the Pope. Even the expulsion of Austria from 
 the German Bund, with the simultaneous elevation of Pnissia to political 
 
40 DISCOURSE. 
 
 and military leadership — even the crash of the Empire in France, after 
 twenty years of real unsoundness though of delusive and dangerous 
 glitter — begin to seem distant in time ; while the clianges in England, 
 and in the relation of England to Ireland, though silently proceeding 
 have been constant and vast, since the year in which the Corn Laws 
 were abolished, and the party of Young Ireland seceded from O'Connell. 
 
 With what rapidity the world bejoud Ciiristendoni has been rushing 
 along the grooves of change, we alst) know. Japan remained, foi-ty 
 years since, hermetically sealed against the connneree and the Chris- 
 tianity which now it seeks, in eager rebound from the long isolation. 
 China was inaccessible to missionary etibrt, except at a few specified 
 ports, and Chinamen on the streets of American cities, from which an 
 ignorant jealousy now would expel them, were almost as rare as Buddhist 
 temples. Eleven years after this pastorate began broke forth into fires 
 of passionate battle that Sepoy Rebellion, the consecpiences of the sup- 
 pression of which have been so important in the religious and political 
 conditions obtaining in India. The metallic wealth of Australia had 
 not been discovered when we met here, the pi'ovinee of Victoria had 
 not been constituted, and the insular continent was chiefly known to the 
 civilized world as the home of lowest barbarian tribes, who were grad- 
 ually being crowded from the coast by the multiplication of vast sheep- 
 farms. Africa, which now has been pierced and crossed on many lines 
 of exploration, and into which the expectant enterprise of commerce 
 and of missions is eagerly pressing, was almost as unknown, except 
 along narrow pestilential sea-edges, as is the geogi-aphy of Jupiter or of 
 Neptune. 
 
 It is hard to realize through what scenes and cycles of transfor- 
 mation the world has moved. We are measuraldy insensitive tp the rapid 
 revolutions in the relations of countries and continents, and in the 
 interna] developments of each, because we are f uniliar with them ; as 
 men fail to notice the clang of machinery when they live in the midst 
 of it, or become almost careless of earthquake trembles when these often 
 recur. No events now seem to us amazing, because we have seen such 
 collisions and catastrophes, with such unexampled re-fashioning of states. 
 But any one who has looked from a high and <juiet point of vantage on 
 the history of the latter part of the century, has had before him a 
 panorama unequalled, in rapidity of movement, in the tragic splendor 
 of achievement and overthrow, in events suggestive of immeasurable 
 future cosmical change. 
 
 It is perhaps yet more appropriate, on an occasion like this, to notice 
 the swift currents and swirls of religious thought, in Christian lands, in 
 
DISCOURSE. 41 
 
 the midst of whose vehement nrgeiicies we have stood, and by which 
 tiie spiritual liistury of the time has been stirred and tossed like the 
 vexed surface of agitated seas. We have seen on the one hand the old 
 scepticism, which never dies, on the other iiand a renascent ritualism — 
 exacting and haughty in its Roman exhibition, clamorous and conceited 
 in the Protestant imitation — facing and alternately exciting each other, 
 each arrogant, eadi ambitious, and neither perhaps sui-passiiig the other 
 in dislike to the truth as we have held it. In Protestant communities 
 have been manifold influences tending to a wide unsettling of belief. 
 In the Papal communion tendencies working toward stricter definition 
 and completer develupment have issued in the action of the Vatican 
 Council, ascribing infallible authority to the Pontiff. I^o intelligent 
 communitv can have remained unaffected bv the alternatins; swing of 
 such persistent and imperious movements. 
 
 The German thought, often aggressively rationalistic, whose influence 
 was comparatively limited in this country fortj- years since, has made a 
 constantly wider appeal to the American mind, and is perhaps as active 
 as ever, and as eftective, in the influence which it exerts to-day. The 
 Life of Jesus, b\- Dr. Strauss, representing the mythical theory of the 
 Gospels, was flrst presented to English readers through a translarion in 
 A. D. 184:6. With the kindred Life of Jesus, by the French Renau, trans- 
 lated and circulated twenty yeai-s later, tliis book of Dr. Strauss stands, 
 in some important respects, in singular contrast ; but equally with that 
 it sought to resolve the whole transcendent story of the Lord into a 
 fabric of the fancy, aerial, and rose-tinted ; and the influence of both 
 was for the time like that of subtle perfumed poisons, offered in dainty 
 and shining goblets, or hidden in garlands. It was fondly thought by 
 some sceptical people that Dr. Strauss, especially, had delivered the 
 Xew Testament to death and dust, with the religion which it contains. 
 But somehow the New Testament was the book which survived, while 
 to think of his now is like remembering a ghost. Many other volumes 
 in the same line of thouglit have followed his, from German, Dutch, 
 and English writers, but none I think more elaborate, perhaps none 
 for the time more effective, than that which gave him his rather brief 
 and dreary fame. 
 
 Meantime, of course, philosophv, archaeology, natural science, have 
 pursued their own paths, in indifference to Christianity, and though 
 without purposed hostility to it have not unfrequently propounded 
 theories essentiall_y destructive of what in it is radical and vital. The 
 Positive Philosophy of Comte, as represented to English readers by 
 Miss Martiueau's version in a. u. 18.">:], and by eloquent subsequent 
 
42 DISCOURSE. 
 
 essays of others, has wrought in a distinctly atheistic direction. Philo- 
 sophical or poetic discussions of the ethnic religions, especially of the 
 two or three greatest among them, have left an impression on many 
 minds that Christianity is only tlie best of a group, if indeed it be alto- 
 gether that ; that all have sprung out of the intellectual nature of man, 
 and that each has its own advantages and defects ; while the theory of 
 impersonal evolution in nature — that the universe is a development of 
 original mechanical force, without directing intelligence, and without 
 foreseen ends — this, as presented learnedly, largely, often with singular 
 liter-ary skill, by German or English enthusiasts for it, has assailed the 
 foundation of all religions, even of the moral nature in man. Yet in 
 journals, on platforms, sometimes in ambitious harangues from the pul- 
 pit, the echo of such adventurous speculations has made itself heard ; 
 and those not familiar with the argument at first hand, ]3erhaps not 
 capable of following its steps, have often been glad to accept a conclu- 
 sion which seemed to leave the universe headless, and every man free to 
 do as he lists. 
 
 At the same time, however, it is to be said that the simultaneous 
 defences of Christianity have not been inferior, in number or weight, to 
 the attacks thus made upon it ; that earnest and searching evangelical 
 thought has been immensely indebted to the diligent hxbor of German 
 scholars, and also of French, i-epresented in histories, commentaries, 
 profound philosopiiical, philological, and arclia='ological investigations; 
 and that more has been written, ably, learnedly, with the eloqiience of 
 adoring affection, setting forth the Divine Person and Life of the Lord 
 Jesus Christ, in these forty years, than in any or all preceding periods. 
 On the whole, one may with confidence affirm that the foreign element, 
 as now domesticated in our literature, has been helpful j-ather than 
 hostile to the Gospel ; while many things indicate that more and more 
 it is to bring to the Master of Christendom spices and riches, of myrrh 
 and gold. 
 
 We are more intimately connected in this country with the English 
 than with either the French or the German thought ; and the frequent 
 reactions and sharp collisions there appearing have probably had more 
 general reflection on this side of the ocean than anywhere else outside 
 of England. When this church was organized, the wide and energetic 
 movement toward Romanism, among those who had been leaders in the 
 Anglican comnnmion, was in eager progress. The series of O.xford 
 Tracts for the Times had recently been finished. Newman, Faber, with 
 others of their spiritual bias, were received into the Roman Church at 
 the close of the year 1845, or early in IS-iti. Manning, the Wilber- 
 
DISCOURSE. 43 
 
 forces, Mitli iiiuuy others, followed, to be succeeded by those in syiu- 
 ])athv with them, till luore than three hundred clergymen, it is said, of 
 the English Church, with a multitude of lay-members, some of them 
 specially cultured and distinguished, had accepted the Roman rule. On 
 the other hand, naturally, a strong counter-current, accelerated if not 
 provoked by this movement, was ciirrying men like Francis Newman, 
 or James Anthony Froude, in a different direction, to opposite results. 
 Froude's "'Xeraesis of Faith," and Newman's ''Phases of Faith." were 
 published in a. d. 1849-1850. And while the High-church party in the 
 Anglican body was strenuously endeavoring to furnish doctrines and a 
 ritual system by which those meditating secession to Rome might be 
 satisfied and detained, the Broad-church sentiments and predispositions 
 found their representatives in men like Whatelj', Arnold, Maurice, 
 Stanley, Kingsley, and others. Rol)ertson began his brief but memo- 
 rable ministry at Brighton in a. d. 1S47. Hampden was made Bishop of 
 Hereford at the end of the same year, though his orthodoxy had been 
 vehemently challenged. A year or two later the accomplished and 
 liberal ililman became Dean of St. Paul's ; while Henry Ahbrd, after- 
 ward the eminent Dean of Canterbury, was preparing for his edition of 
 the New Testament, with that commentary upon it parts of which, to 
 not a few of his fellow church-men, were almost more otfensive than an 
 intidel treatise. In a. d. 1850 was pronounced by the Judicial Com- 
 mittee of the Privy Council the famous Gorham Decision, which seemed 
 to many to deal destructively with the entire sacramental system of the 
 Anglican Church. 
 
 Such divergent or opposing currents of thought, simultaneously 
 appearing, are of course not infrequent. They have often been shown 
 more signally in history ; as when Bossuet and Fenelou led in difiei-ent 
 directions the best minds of France, or as when, more remarkably, Cal- 
 vin and Loyola prepared at the same time at the University of Paris 
 for their widely contrasted labors. But in an exhibition less conspicu- 
 ous, on an area more limited, such antitheses of opinion have in our 
 time appeared in the English Church, with a distinctness and in a force 
 which may not be forgotten. 
 
 In close correspondence with such movements abroad the same 
 tendencies, in either direction, were beginning to exhibit their effects on 
 this side of the ocean when we commenced our work in this place. Many 
 ministers, chiefly of the Episcopal Church, i>rominently represented by 
 Bishop Ives, then or soon afterward joined themselves to the Roman com- 
 munion, with not a few laymen, and excellent women, of various pre- 
 vious church-connections. Mr. Brownson, who had before experimented 
 
44 DISCOURSE. 
 
 on nearly all varieties of oi)iniiiu in his search for a belief, had established 
 his Eeview in a. d. 1844 ; and he was abeady coming to be recognized 
 as the most inti'epid American controversialist on the Papal side. The 
 subsequent decrees of the Vatican Council, so energetically resisted in 
 Europe, were generally welcomed by Ronjanists here, as carrying to 
 development the slowly maturing Pontifical system, and practically ful- 
 filling the aspiration of ages. The aggressive zeal, the effective power, 
 with the keen expectation of success, have never been greater in that 
 communion, as existing among ns, than they have been of late. From 
 Bishop Hughes to the Cardinal Archl)ishop, from the plain churches of 
 forty years since to the superb marble Cathedral, the progress has been 
 certainly a great one ; and it has been in the main fairly achieved — by 
 labor among the poor, by patience in priests and sagacity in prelates, by 
 joyful constancy in doing the work and in setting forth the doctrine 
 which to those trained liy the attractive and mandatory system appear 
 Divine. 
 
 On the other hand, what are vaguely and inaccurately described as 
 "liberal" opinions in theology have enlisted for their support many 
 cultivated men, formerly in the ministry of one or other of the evangel- 
 ical communions; and some hitherto in agreement with us appear now 
 to be moving in a similar direction, though without any very imperative 
 impulse, and with a certain diffident stiffness quite in contrast with the 
 elastic ease of movement M'hicli the thorough-bred rationalist commonly 
 shows. In distinctively Unitarian cii-cles the general movement since 
 the death of Dr. Channing, in a. n. 1842, has been, I judge, though 
 with signal and noble exceptions, toward a view of Christ, of His work 
 and His authority, which those who were united in the movement at 
 the outset were far from entertaining. The eloquent discourses of 
 Theodore Parker are now published by the body which during his life 
 regarded him as a dangerous radical. The principal push and definite- 
 ness of purpose appear to be shown in this direction ; and not a few 
 prominent ITnitarian preachers are understood to stand already on the 
 basis of simple natural theism — considering Jesus a noble but mis- 
 taken man, in advance of his time but involved in some of its principal 
 delusions, looking upon the sacraments as idle or essentially superstitious 
 observances, selecting texts with equal readiness from Pagan philosophers 
 or from the New Testament, and not regarding even the belief in a personal 
 God as a necessary condition of frank and cordial spiritual fellowship. 
 
 I need not multiply illustrations of the counter-currents in spiritual 
 tendency, and in the religious thought which declares this, which have 
 been ceaselessly eddying around us for forty years ; nor of the contra- 
 
DISCO UNSE. 45 
 
 dictory opinions, dift'ering from the Gospel as we ap|)relieiid that, and 
 often tierc-ely hostile to it, which have reverberated in hooks, or been 
 popularized in journals, or more or less successfully thrust into pulpits. 
 But tlie facts are also gratefully to be noticed, that in the various evan- 
 gelical coniniunions the tendency has been vigorous toward a n)ore vital 
 and intimate sense of their practical unity, and toward cooperation in 
 Christian endeavor wherever the way to this has been opened ; tliat 
 tlieir ])ervasive missionary spirit has become continnally more inspiring, 
 and has given to all their organized movement new courage and liope; 
 and that the theology obtaining among them, not losing its majesty, or 
 the sharpness of its defining lines, has steadily become more Christo- 
 centric, and has been interpreted with increasing distinctness in the line 
 of its profound spiritual significance, ratlier in that of traditional expo- 
 sition, or of a formal constructive logic. The discussions of fifty years 
 ago, in regard to sin, the Divine purposes, with man's power of contrary 
 choice, left results into which later thinkers have entered, and through 
 which they have reached a nobler apprehension of the Lord and His 
 ■work. A choice example of the modern spirit is that presented by Dr. 
 Bushuell, Avhose tine genius, with his quick sensibility to the great 
 Christian facts, began to be exhibited in published discourses, and in 
 volumes, less than forty years since, and whose influence has not been 
 confined to this country. His particular opinions, upon certain points 
 in the philosophy of religion, may not have attracted large numbers of 
 disciples ; but it can scarcely be doubted, I think, that his animating 
 teachings have expanded horizons which were narrower before, have 
 brightened atmospheres which inclined to be dull, and have given 
 delightful grace and glow to the harder lines of theological thought. 
 Others, of a less ecumenical distinction, have wrought in his 'temper, 
 and with a similar effect. 
 
 It is also gladly to be recognized that while this church has stood, as 
 I have said, consistently and firml}' on its foundation of evangelical 
 truth, the churches of the communion with which it is connected, and 
 of other communions holding essentially the same supreme doctrine, 
 have been prospered and multiplied to a degree before unexampled. 
 What the number of Congregational churches was in this country in 
 A. D. 1846, I cannot say with certainty ; but four years later they were 
 reckoned at 1,971, with less than two hundred thousand communicants 
 (197,197). At the beginning of this year the number of these churches 
 was more than four thousand (4,170), with nearly four hundred and 
 twenty thousand communicants (418.564), and with more than half 
 a million (510,322) teachers and scholars emln-aced in their Sunday- 
 
46 DISCOURSE. 
 
 schools. These numbers are small, however, as compared with those 
 representing the growth of some other communions. Taking from the 
 American Almanac for a. n. 1851 the figures for the preceding year, 
 and from the same publication for a. d. 1880 the figures for the last 
 year, some examples of the increase are as follows : — 
 
 In A. D. 1850 the Presbj'terian congregations, North and South, 
 were 5,173, witli communicants 451,330 ; in a. d. 1SS5 the congregations 
 were 11,318, the communicants 938,210. In A.n. 1850 the Lutheran 
 congregations were reckoned as 1,<301, with communicants estimated 
 at 163,000 ; in a. d. 1885 the congregations were 5,558, with nearly 
 a million enrolled communicants (950,868). In a. d. 1850 the Baptist 
 congregations, of all sorts, were 11,863, with 831,035 communicants; in 
 A. D. 1885 the congregations had risen to 28,506, with nearly two and 
 a half millions of communicants (2,424,878). In a. d. 1850 the 
 Methodist congregations, North and South, Episcopal and non-Episcopal, 
 were about fourteen thousand, with a million and a quarter of commu- 
 nicants (1,230,069); in A. d. 1885 the same congregations were about 
 thirty-eight thousand, with communicants numbering more than three 
 and a half millions (3,686,114). Even this number fails, probably, to 
 exhibit the truth, as the official publication of the Methodist Church 
 states the number of communicants at nearly four millions (3,958,156). 
 The Protestant Episcopal Church — which some now aspire to designate 
 as " The American Catholic Cliurch'" — out of whose ancestral archetype 
 in England came the Methodist connnunion, and which, whatever 
 attractions it may offer to those inclined to it, has no such hold as the 
 latter possesses on the popular mind, presents no numbers comparable 
 to these ; but in place of the twelve hundred and thirty-two parishes 
 credited to it in a. d. 1850, it has now, according to its official publica- 
 tion, thirty-four hundred and fifty parishes' with nearly four hundred 
 thousand connnunicants (398,098) — this enumeration covering, however, 
 sixteen missionary districts, some of which are in the other hemisphere, 
 in Africa, China and Japan. 
 
 It has been stated, with I think substantial correctness, that includ- 
 ing all evangelical denominations, there were in this country in a. n. 
 1850 forty-three thousand local churches (43,072), with three and a half 
 millions of communicants (3,529,987) ; and that in a. d. 1880, thirty 
 years after, the churches numbered nearly a hundred thousand (97,090), 
 with more than ten milli(ms of communicants (10,065,963). Such a vast 
 and swift advance in the number of congregations in which the Gospel 
 is earnestly preached, surely and wholly contradicts the notion, some- 
 times expressed, that the ancient majestic interpretation of the Gospel is 
 
DISCOURSE. 47 
 
 losing its hold on the eager and inquisitive American mind. With a 
 progress at all corresponding to this, in the thirty years to come, the 
 result will be one to give to the continent a Christian renown, and to 
 oft'er the most signiiicant promise for the victorious advance of tli'j 
 Gospel in all the earth. 
 
 I have thus set before jou, my dear Christian Friends, in general 
 outline, the character of this church as I have seen it develojied and 
 matured in the years now closing, with such a sketch as the time has 
 permitted of the work which it has done, of the changes amid which its 
 life has proceeded, and of the influences which have been energetic and 
 conspicuous around it. We can hardly help feeling, I think, as we 
 stand at the end of this review, that they who united to form this 
 church, most of them then in early or in middle manhood, and who gave 
 to it freely of thought, counsel, and pecuniary aid, did a good and fruitful 
 work. Their enthusiasm for it has been justified by its history. In 
 some respects, possibly, its v/ork has surpassed their expectation. It is 
 an occasion of heartiest joy that twelve out of the seventy-one at first in 
 the church continue in it still ; and to them, as to us, it cannot but be a 
 reason for gladness, and a motive to praise, that they who have later 
 found here their church-home have cordially maintained and nobly re- 
 inforced the early spirit, only building more broadly on the jirimitive 
 basis. I cannot doubt that this will continue to be the fact, while the 
 church abides; that however rapid and however surprising may be the 
 changes in the city or the country, in Christendom or the world, this 
 church will continue, still honoi-ing in its faith the spiritual facts which 
 years and changes do not touch, still doing the work entrusted to it, for 
 the blaster whom it worships, for the cause which it loves. It will be 
 to the end, what it was at the beginning, a household of God, built upon 
 the tbundation of the apostles and prophets, Jesus Christ Himself being 
 the chief corner-stone. Ideas do not die. The truth of God, the 
 Redemption of Christ, the grace of the Spirit, are subject to no mutation 
 or decav. Thev will be here when we are eone. An enerfrv from them 
 is vitally involved in the conviction and spirit of the church, wliich will 
 not vanish as suns and seasons pursue their course. To those who come 
 after us the occasion for declaring them will still be presented. To us it 
 has been given to see the august plans of Providence unfolding amid 
 storms of thunder and fire, or evolved more silently, but almost as 
 signally, in civil and political change, in the growth of cities, in multi- 
 plied mechanisms, in expansions of commerce, in the prosperous progress 
 of the peoples and nations which honor the Master. Those plans are 
 still moving toward supreme consummation. They are lifting valleys, 
 
48 , DISCOURSE. 
 
 arid leveling liills, to make a way before the wheels of Messiah's Throne. 
 And they who are to succeed us here — associated as already they are, 
 for prayer, and counsel, and beautiful enterprise — will have their work, 
 as we have had ours, to do for Him whom nothing misleads and nothing 
 baffles, whose Incarnation was the new Ijirth (,)f history, whose Cross 
 links heaven and earth together, whose glory at last shall fill the world ! 
 
 It is a great thing to have helped to establish, to have helped to 
 upbuild, a church like this. He who puts his life into its growth 
 "chooseth a tree that will not rot." Not only the conimuuity immedi- 
 atel}' around it, but others ren)oter, will take from it incitements and 
 helps while years go on. A reward will come, ample and sure, for 
 whatever of service and of sacrifice has been ours on its behalf. In 
 the final triumph of righteousness and truth, wherever the Gospel has 
 dominion in the earth, we shall have part. 
 
 I cannot but feel, too, that all will see in reviewing this history how 
 natural it has been that such a church should attract to itself the strong 
 and the enduring affection of those long familiar with it. There are 
 obvious limitations upon its appeal to the public attention. It wants 
 the enthusiasm excited by vast and changing congregations, gathered 
 from widely separated districts by the fame of a preacher, by the 
 frequent discussion of novel or semi-secular subjects, or b}' the recog- 
 nized relation of a pulpit to the drifts and swells of political thought. 
 It wants the attraction which may be connected with eccentricities of 
 manner, or with specially elaborate musical services, with the sumptuous 
 array of a rich ceremonial, or even with a constantly fervid tone of 
 missionary appeal. And it lacks, of course, any impulse that might 
 come from an intense denominational temper, eager for its own and 
 critical toward others. But to those who here have had their home, the 
 spiritual assembly, and in its measure the outward church, have a 
 peculiar and sacred beauty : — from tlie Gospel here continuously set 
 forth, witli the reach of its stupendous declarations coiicerning realms 
 which eye hath not seen, with the tenderness of its pathos, the ardor of 
 its incessant invitations, the majestic scope and height of its promises ; 
 from the lovely, solemn, and ins])iring sacraments here administered ; 
 from the Christiaii fellowships here formed and matured ; from the 
 ripened knowledges, and the ever deeper satisfactions of faith, here 
 attained ; from the common enterprises prompted and promoted, foi- 
 the good of mankind, and the glory of God. 
 
 The very building has come to be associated, to many of us, with 
 whatever has been superlative in our thought, with the sweetest comforts 
 we have found in our grief, the richest incentives to the wise and 
 
DISCOURSE. 49 
 
 beneficent use of our strengtli, the supreme expectations concernino- the 
 Future which have crowned with their liglit and anointed with theu- 
 chrism our commoa shaded and secular days. "Without superstitious 
 veneration for places we understand something of the moral fasci- 
 nation wiiich particidar shrines have had for their worshippers, since 
 witliiu these walls Tabor and Hermon have rejoiced before us in 
 the name of the Lord, the darkness and the splendor over Cal- 
 vary and Olivet have been manifest to our souls, we have walked 
 with the Lord and heard His apostles, and have seen the skies parted 
 above us, in the Advent, and for the Ascension. To our pro- 
 foundest spiritual experience this has been — to us and to others mav 
 it always remain !— none other than the House of God, tiie Gate of 
 Heaven. 
 
 It has come also to be associated, in a way most delightful to our 
 affectionate human sensibilities, with the many who have gone from 
 among us to the skies, with the good, the brave, the beautiful and the 
 wise, who have sat beside us to listen to the truth which now they hear 
 Ironi the Master's lips; who have joined in praise with ours the voices 
 which now are attuned to seraplis' harps ; who have passed from the 
 feast of love at this Table to the immortal Marriage Supper ! Little 
 children, who here were baptized, and whose feet trod early the Heav- 
 enly streets, walk again in beauty before us, as we enter these doors. 
 Silent forms enter the pews, which stir no rustle, and till no space. 
 Beloved friends, partakers of our joy, or sharers of our most intimate 
 life, seem evidently present, as we bow in prayer, or arise in praise. 
 We are consciously encomjxissed liy a great cloud of witnesses; and the 
 very building l)ecomes vital and eloquent with tender intimations of the 
 ineffable mystery and majesty of celestial relations. To many of us no 
 other can be like it, however surpassing it in brilliance of color or vast 
 proportions. Its arclies enclose the home of our hearts. The air wliich 
 fills it is laden for us witli memories and with prophecies. At some 
 time, I trust. Memorial Windows will find in it their fitting place, to 
 show, as often as men enter tliese aisles, the heavenly radiance shinino- 
 through names here honored and beloved. If not in our time, then 
 surely by the young, into whose hands this church must soon come, and 
 who will take with it a rich inheritance of remembrance and incentive 
 this work will be done. 
 
 I do not wish to obtrude upon you any expression of personal feel- 
 ing; but it cannot be amiss that I frankly say that it has been my own 
 ever deepening and controlling attachment to the church— to the "house- 
 holds embraced in it, to what is peculiar in its services and its spirit, to 
 
50 DISCOURSE. 
 
 the work which it has done in the city and for the land, to the very 
 building wliich I have had my pleasant part in enlarging and adorning, — 
 which has kept me here so many years, for all the best years of my life. 
 I came hither in my youth, from one of the loveliest parishes of JS^ew 
 England, to do the work which might here await me, not knowing in 
 particulars what that was to be, or how long it might keep me, and with 
 no plan whatever of spending my life iiere. It has never been my govei'n- 
 ing impression that a Minister should continue, as a matter of course, 
 for all his years, in a parish to which he had early come. Sometimes 
 this is well, perhaps oftener it is not. I liave not been without occa- 
 sional opportunities, of some of wliich you have known, to go elsewhere, 
 to other pastorates, or to Collegiate or Seminary chairs ; and some of 
 these have been so attractive, and have been presented with such earnest 
 persuasion, that I have been almost moved to yield. But no distinct 
 providential demand has appeared in them, snch as I thought I plainly 
 saw when coming liither. On the otiier hand, special hindrances have 
 appeared, in each principal case, to make going less easy ; while the 
 liokl of this ])lace and peojile ujion me has proved always too strong to 
 be broken. I could not leave, without a painful wrench of the spirit, 
 the friendly neighborhood, the young institutions whose appeal is so 
 keen to heart and hope, the constantly widening circle of households 
 known to me from their youth np, with which my relations have been 
 always delightful. This house itself has been sacred to me, as that in 
 which God's Spirit has been manifest, to my heart as to youi's ; in which 
 my children, like yours, have been ba])tized, and afterward received to 
 the communion of the church, and later married ; in which, indeed, the 
 children's children have been brougiit to the font, to be led from thence 
 in faith and prayer, on to the Sup])er. 
 
 I am grateful to God that He has permitted me to dwell so long in 
 the city which has been kind to me beyond my deserts, and which never 
 was fuller than at this hour of noble promise ; in the church which has 
 responded with ready acceptance to every best impulse that I could 
 give, and which has been always, to me and mine, a Christian home 
 full of charm and reward. I thank Him for the manifold beautiful 
 work which He here set before me, and to which He has permitted me 
 to give whatever of strenii-th or of srace He has furnished. I trust 
 that these scenes will still surround me, and that in your aifectionate 
 fellowship will be to me gladness and cheer, until I cease from public 
 labor. I trust that the spirit wliich God has moved us to seek for this 
 church — believing and thoughtful, afl'ectionate and devout, conscientious 
 and catholic, swift in motion to do the J^ord's work, elate in hope before 
 
DISCO UR>'iE. 51 
 
 the promises shining from afar — will still continue to quicken and mould 
 it when one by one we shall all have gone ! 
 
 So, my Friends, with gratitude for the past, with gladness for the 
 present, and with happy and large expectation for the future, let us 
 to-day re-cousecrate tliis church, by re-consecrating ourselves, to Him 
 in tlie foith of whom it was founded ; to the vision of whom many 
 from among ns have gone already ; before whom wait resplendent ages of 
 peace and progress on the earth, the fruit of His coming, the reward of 
 His Cross; around whom stands, in a beauty unblemished, with palms 
 and song, the Church Triumphant! and unto Him, for that which He 
 hath done, for that which He hereafter shall do. be now and ever all the 
 praise! Amen. 
 
APPENDIX 
 
 PRESENTATION OF A BRONZE STATUE TO DR. STORRS, BY THE 
 SUNDAY-SCHOOLS. 
 
 THE Sunday-schools of the Church of the Pilgrims being a.ssemhktl in 
 tlie Lecture-room on Thursday afternoon, Sovember 18th, the following 
 hymn was first sung : — 
 
 Round the Lord in glory seated, 
 
 Cherubim and Seraphim 
 Filled His temple, and repeated, 
 
 Each to each, tli' alternate hymn : 
 
 "Lord, Thy glory fills the Heaven, 
 Earth Is witli its fnllne.ss stored ; 
 Unto Thee be glory given, 
 Holy ! Holy I Holy ! Lord ! " 
 
 With His seraph-train before Him, 
 
 With His holy Church below, 
 Thus conspire we to adore Him, 
 
 Bid we thus our anthem flow : 
 
 " Lord, Thy glory fills the Heaven, 
 Earth is with its fullness stored ; 
 Unto Thee be glory given. 
 
 Holy ! Holy ! Holy ! Lord ! " Amen. 
 
 The Superintendent of the Church-school, ;Mr. George P. Stockwell, then 
 spoke, as follows : — Dr. Storrs, this meeting of the officers, teachers, and chil- 
 dren of our Sunday-schools, with you our Pastor and our friend, means some- 
 thing more than tlie pleasure which all of us feel at thus meeting you face to 
 face, and being permitted to grasp your liand in congratulation. It means that 
 we not only manifest our pleasure because of your presence with us this after- 
 noon, but that we express our gratitude and thanksgiving to God, that He has 
 permitted you for so many years to bo the Pa.stor and ^linistcr of this Church and 
 Society of the Pilgrims. Strong and tender have been, and are, the chords of 
 
54 APPENDIX. 
 
 love binding us together as Pastor and people. In coming hither j'ou brought a 
 blessing to this church — the blessing of such unity, strength, and consecration, 
 in and to the work of the Master, as have been given to but few churches. In 
 coming here you brought a blessing to this city, in which you have during all 
 these years been actively interested, and have been an inspiration to others who 
 have worked with you, in projecting and pushing forward to completion the 
 various Christian, educational, and philanthropic works which stand to-day the 
 pride and glory of the city. We might, on an occasion like this, multiply into 
 many words our appreciation of all that you have been to us as individuals, to 
 us as families, to this church of Christ, and to the city of Brooklyn ; but we for- 
 bear, knowing as we do that you prefer that appreciation which is seen in the 
 eye, felt in the hand-clasp, and witnessed in the life, rather than words of praise 
 spoken to you by our lips. 
 
 We have gatliered in these rooms before you, not as the church of the past, 
 not as those actively interested with you in the work and service of the church 
 forty, or even thirty years ago ; tliese have, for the most part, passed into the 
 skies. I^or yet, to any considerable extent, are we here as the church of the 
 present ; but rather as the church of the future — the children, all of them to a 
 greater or less degree, thank God ! formed under the guiding and moulding 
 influence of your teaching and life. These children, and those coming with 
 them, the officers and teachers of the Schools here represented, are glad to meet 
 you this afternoon; and it has been our great pleasure to bring with us a testi- 
 monial of our affectionate regard for you. It is, largely, the gift of the children ; 
 and as such we are sure that it will be highly appreciated by you. We have 
 selected this statue in bronze, and the pedestal on wliich it rests, as our gift. 
 The bronze figure represents Labor — not the modern " Knight of Labor " — but 
 let us interpret it as representing Labor, dignified and God-like, because conse- 
 crated to Christ, the Master Workman. Such has been your labor here, during 
 the forty years of your ministry. You have been a workman that needed not 
 to be ashamed, rightly dividing the Word of Truth. The inscription we propose 
 to put on this pedestal is as follows : — 
 
 " For the Lord thy God hath blessed thee in all the works of thy 
 HANDS. These forty years the Lord thy God hath been with thee." 
 
 We present this gift to you, together with our love, and witli the earnest 
 wish for your long continued life, and strength, and usefulness in this church, 
 and among this people. 
 
 REPLY OF DR. STORES. 
 
 My dear Friends : — Nothing could have been further from my mind when I 
 suggested to the Committee of tlie church some weeks ago — as they approached 
 me in regard to an observance of this anniver.sary — that I should like to meet the 
 Sunday-schools of the church and of the Mission-chapel, than the thought that 
 possibly you might present to me some testimonial of your regard. I certainly 
 
APPENDIX. 55 
 
 accept it with veiy great tenderness and liappinnss in my lieart, for the gift, and 
 preeminently for the manner in which the gift comes, and for the love wliich it 
 expresses, which, I trust, will be as permanent as the bronze itself. Jfy ajipre- 
 ciation of your affection, and of this memorial of it, would certainly endure as 
 long as it does, if my life were to continue so long. 
 
 I desired to have this meeting, in the first place, liecause I am personally 
 very much attached to the children of this congregation. i^Iany of you, nearly 
 all perhaps who are here, and who are directly connected with the congregation, 
 I have baptized. Many of you are the cliildren of those whom I baptized 
 years ago ; and I remendicr that the first sharp impression which I ever had of 
 growing older was when a gentleman, taller than I am, and larger than I am, 
 brought his child to be baptized, while I recollected, as he stood before me, that 
 when he wa.s a babe I had held him in my hands and baptized him ! I think I 
 had a keener sense of growing older, at that time, than 1 have ever hail since— 
 certainly than I had ever had before. 
 
 It is always a delight to me, when a child comes to me on the street, and 
 says, " How do you do, Dr. Storrs"? putting out his or her hand to take mine. 
 Sometimes I may not instantly remember those who thus come to me ; for children 
 in this day have a singular trick of growing older, pretty fast. Between four 
 years and nine years, or between seven years and twelve years, they change so 
 rapidly that oik; hardly can keep their ajipearance in mind. I wish some kind 
 of arrangement were possible by which each child should carry a ticket, saying, 
 "This is"— so and so; for then I should always know you! You, however, 
 always know me, because I have got through with all this business of growing 
 larger. And so, whenever you see me on the street, if you will just come and 
 put your hand into mine, and say, " Good-morning, Dr. Storrs "—you will give 
 me cheer for the day. I have always felt that such a greeting added beauty aud 
 enjoyment to the hours which followed. In London the fasliion is, and here to 
 some extent, but here not so generally, for every gentleman, as he goes down town 
 in the morning, to wear a flower in his button-hole. Your greetings have been 
 to me as the flower in the button-hole, the perfume of which I have been delight- 
 fully inhaling all the day, when you have come to me, on your way to school 
 perhaps, and have said, simply, " How do you do "? 
 
 That is one reason why I wanted to see you all together. And then, I 
 thought that this is a sort of Thanksgiving occasion. I do not mean that it is 
 a Thanksgiving occasion on the part of the [leople because they have got through 
 with forty years of my ministry, and these are not to come any more ; but it is 
 a sort of Thanksgiving to us all, tliat we have been permitted to dwell together 
 in such hapiiy harmony and common usefulness for so many years. And a 
 Thanksgiving occasion, without children, is one of the dreariest things that can 
 bo. I never knew how dreary until two or three years ago it happened to us 
 at our house to have a Thanksgiving where there was no child present. I thought 
 then that it was about as sombre and funereal an occasion as one can easily find. 
 
66 APPENDIX. 
 
 So, on tliis Thanksgiving I was anxious to meet the children in the afternoon, 
 whether we had any meeting of parents and grown people in the evening or not. 
 
 Then, besides that, I have the feeling to which jSIr. Stockwell has adverted 
 in the delightful words of welcome and congratulation which he has spoken, that 
 liere I look into the future. I sit not unfrequentlj', in the summer-time, on the 
 piazza of my house in the country, and with a spy -glass look over upon the 
 Connecticut shore, where, as a lady said one day, through the clear, bright air you 
 can almost see the door-knobs shining in the sun ; and it is always interesting 
 and surprising to me to see how distant objects are brought close to my eyes 
 through that arrangement of the lenses. Here, in somewhat the same way, I 
 look into your faces, and I see tliose who are to be in the Church of the Pil- 
 grims, and those who are to be leaders in Brooklyn, twenty, thirty, fort)', and 
 fifty years hence. Xot all of you will be here then; not all of you will be in 
 this world then ; but I hope that many will be, and that you will be in this church 
 what your parents have been — rejoicing in it, rejoicing to keep it a Christian 
 home, as it has been to us all in all these years, and rejoicing to contribute to 
 make it effective in usefulness, so far as your influence in it can reach, or your 
 influence through it can extend. 
 
 These years to come will pass very rapidly with you. It seems wonderful 
 to me now, as I stand here, that it is forty years to-morrow night since I stood 
 in yonder jiulpit for the first time. These mottoes upon the walls — " 1846 " — 
 " 1886 " — represent a long interval. I do not know exactly, by the way, why 
 the "1886" is in the colored flowers which are given to it, unless it be a 
 pleasant and flattering intimation on the part of those who put it there that 
 their Pastor, in these forty years, has become a well-read man ! I shall accept 
 it as such, at any rate, and I only wish it were more true in that intimation. 
 The interval seems a very great one, as you look at it there ; but it has passed 
 rapidly ; and so it will have done with you when, forty years hence, you look 
 back, if you do look back, to this afternoon and to this anniversary. 
 
 I have the strongest desire for you all, such as every parent has for his own 
 children, that these years which are before you shall be years of great happi- 
 ness. They may be ; and I trust they will be. I remember, when a little boy, 
 people used to say to me sometimes that I was having the happiest years of my 
 life. I did not believe it then, and I have believed it less and less ever since. 
 It is not so. Happier years come later in life. I suspect the happiest years of 
 all, with tliose who live wisely, are the last years ; and that a childhood which 
 has had a great deal of cloud over it, with a great deal of shower, oftentimes 
 comes to an afternoon as radiant and as lovely as this has been, and to an even- 
 ing as tranquil and superb as we hope this evening is to be. Every per.son has 
 a right, and is under obligation, to live with reference to a happy life here, and 
 to a happier life hereafter. "We are not to think about a happiness to come by 
 and by, merely, and let the present go with no experience of it. We are to 
 try to glorify God by being happy here — as these vines and flowers glorify 
 
APPENDIX. 57 
 
 Him by being verdurous and cbanuing in their hues and fragrance. The question 
 is, therefore, a very important one for every person— how that happiness is to be 
 secured? It was the thouglit of you, in connection with that question, which 
 led me, as much as anything, to desire to be here with you a few minutes tliis 
 afternoon. 
 
 AVe hear it said oftentimes, and said truly, that faith in Christ, and in His 
 Gospel, is the condition of all true happiness on earth ; but we .sometimes, I think, 
 make too great a mystery of that faith. It is simply affectionate and praising 
 confidence. You know what happiness such confidence gives. For instance, you 
 are lost, as some of you may have been lost in the woods this summer, when 
 perhaps you had been out on a picnic and had lost your way. When you see a 
 guide approaching whom you know, and whom you can trust, what jierfect relief 
 there is to your spirit '. Possil:iIy you have been lost at some time in the streets 
 of the city. I do not know whether any of you are subject to that peculiar trick 
 of the eye which afflicts me sometimes, when I get everything on the wrong side 
 of the street. I remember that in one of the cities of Europe—the beautiful city 
 of Florence,— the omnibus taking me from station to hotel made a sudden turn 
 which I did not recognize, and when I got out of it everything was wrong ; the 
 sun rose in the west, and set in the east ; the river Arno was running right from 
 the Mediterranean toward the Apennines ; and I could not make anytliing seem 
 right in the points of the compass. I never have found it right, so far a's that 
 city is concerned ; and if I now think of anything in Florence as being on the 
 south side of the Arno I know that it is on the north side, and so rectify my 
 impression by my judgment. Some of you may have been lost in the city in 
 that way, perhaps, when everything has seemed unfamiliar and strange to you. 
 Tiien, if you saw a friend, your confidence in him, and in his willingne.ss to guide 
 you, what a full-brimmed source it was of joy and gladness ! You could sliout 
 for joy, and leap and dance ; whether you had had any lessons in dancing or not, 
 you danced on the pavement, in glad anticipation of the guidance which he 
 could give. It is just so when a physician comes, when we are feeling wretch- 
 edly ill, and know that he will, give us something to help us. It is so when we 
 are perplexed and curious about some subject, and a person comes wlio will cer- 
 tainly be able to give us the needed information. 
 
 That is confidence. Now, confidence in the Lord Jesus Christ, in Himself, 
 and His wonderful work, and in His promises— that is Faith. Do not make a 
 mystery about it. There is nothing mysterious in its nature. It is the sim- 
 plest thing in the world— a full lieart-felt confiding in the Lord Jesus Christ, in 
 His character and redemption, in His directions, and in His promises. It is that 
 which gives relief and gladness. It is that out of wliich conies a beautiful, 
 noble, and holy life. Then you know that you are a child of God, since you 
 are a follower of the Lord Jesus Christ ; and you have the celestial gates open 
 before you, because this simple affectionate confidence in Him is that which God 
 asks in order that we may attain eternal life. That faith is like the win" of 
 
58 APPENDIX. 
 
 the liinl. People say sometimes tliat tliere is a bimlen in faitli. There is no 
 more burden in faith than there is burden in the wing of the bird. The wing 
 is not a weiglit, it is a means of ascending. So it is with tlie liuman spirit. 
 Faith gives it wings, by whieli it soars into the vision and felicitj' of God Him- 
 self. That is always, therefore, the first thing. There never is any real happi- 
 ness in this world — I do not care what the world may say, I do not care what 
 knowledge and high position may do for one, I do not care what agreeable social 
 circumstances there may be — there is no thorough happiness in this world, 
 where there is no faith — faith in the Lord Jesus Christ, in His word and work, 
 in His precepts, and in His majestic promises. 
 
 Then, with that must come also the desire for usefulness to others. A child 
 sometimes thinks, " Why, I am to receive, and not to give ! " Well, that is 
 true, as far as the very beginning of childhood is concerned, and the earliest 
 infantile years. But, there is no little child here so young that he or she can- 
 not begin to be useful to others, and in that way to gain happiness. You know 
 that, as well as I do. I will show you that you know it. You tind, for example, 
 when you give your gift at Christmas or at New Year's — particularly if it is 
 something which you have made yourself, or if it is something w'hich you have 
 saved money for, which otherwise you might have sjjcnt upon yourself — that 
 while you give happiness by the gift, you guiii hapjiiness also. It is very sweet 
 to you to think tliat you have been useful to another — to father, mother, Ijrother, 
 or sister, or even to a stranger. If a stranger asks you on the street where a 
 particular house is, and you tell him, and then go with liim a few steps in order to 
 show him, you are happier for that small act all the day long — more hajijiy than 
 if some benefit had been conferred upon you. Usefulness is the real spring of 
 enjoyment. That is one secret of what the Master meant when he said, " He 
 who will lose his life for my sake, shall find it." We gain by giving. If we 
 are all the time receiving, and not giving out, we get to be like one of these 
 stagnant ponds into ■which waters are running, but from whicli waters are not 
 going forth, and which so become foul and pestilential. There is nobody so 
 unhappy as a thoroughly selfish person ; becaus.e, as the Master said, " It is 
 more blessed to give than to receive." We find hajipiness in every act of kind- 
 ness that we do to others. Usefulness, united with faith in the Master, is the 
 essential secret of a happy life. 
 
 In order that we may have this faith, this usefulness, and the happiness which 
 comes from it, we need to be very intimate with God in prayer. Children 
 sometimes think that prayer is only the utterance of the Minister in the pulpit ; 
 or that it is the utterance of some great congregation in a hymn of prayer. But, 
 prayer is just the expression of a child's desire to God. We all are children before 
 God ; and we want to be jierfectly confiding, perfectly simple, in our prayer. 
 When you go to your father or mother, for instance, because you w-ant a par- 
 ticular gift, or a particular indidgence of some kind not harmful to you, you do 
 not go and make a speech ; you do not feel that you need to write your request 
 
APPENDIX. 59 
 
 beforehaiul ; but you go and speak, right out of your cliildisli lips, tlu; rcipiest ; 
 you Iddh the ]irayer, for the jmiyer may be in your eye as niucli as on your H])s ; 
 it may lie in your eager hand, just as much as it is in the eye or on tlii' lip. That 
 is [irayer — prayer to a ]iarent, or to a friend, for some ])r(!sent good. Ndw, that 
 is e(inally jirayer to Goil. You come to Him at evening and at morning to a.sk 
 Him for that which you need, for that which He sees that you need ; anil if vnu 
 do tins He will answer, and you will have this confidence of the heart, and the 
 happiness which comes from usefulness, constantly present in your life. Praying 
 is not a thing that can be done once for all the day, or once for all the week, any 
 more than you can eat your bread for a week to come to-morrow morning. But, 
 it is "Give us this day our daily bread." AVe must make duily petitions to God ; 
 and a child-like, simple, contiding, and heart-felt re(iuest will always lu-ing the 
 gift we need — if not always the gift we seek. People .sometimes get much I'icher 
 blessings in answer to prayer than tliey anticipate, e\en wlnii these were not what 
 they sought. You have heard the story of the Indian clinibing the miiuntain 
 in South America, who being in danger of sli]i]iing grasped a l)U.sh and pulled 
 it up? The bush yielded in bis hand, and did not hold him : but he was caught 
 a little lower down ; and the bush, being uprooted, disclosed a mine of silver 
 beneath. It is often very much so with prayer. We do not get exactly what 
 we ask, liut we get richer blessings in place nf it. The more familiar we 
 are with God, the more intimate we are witli Him who came to show Him- 
 self to us in the person of His Son Jesus Christ, the more complete the joy 
 we shall have in contidenee in Him, and in the happiness born of cimscious 
 usefulness to others. 
 
 I did not mean to speak five minutes, where I have spoken perhaps fifteen. 
 AH that I wish to say at the end is just this : that if, forty years hence, any of 
 you happen to remember this occasion, and happen to remember these words which 
 I have spoken, if you will look back upon your life, having accepted the words 
 and tried to follow them day by day, you will, every one of you, say, " He told 
 us exactly the truth ! He told us what he liad found in his own e.xperience, in 
 a degree, to be true ; and what he knew to lie true from the experience of 
 others, and from the teaching of God's word and Sjiirit. He told us the way 
 to Happiness ; and our life has been as bright and beautiful as it has been, 
 because we have followed along that line which he pointed out!" 
 
 I thank you again, \vitli all my heart, for this beautiful bronze which you 
 have given me, and for all the affectionate thought and impulse which are 
 expressed by it. I do not know that I rjin think that in giving me this your 
 enjoyment has been greater than mine in receiving it, for then it would pass 
 all reasonable bounds ! But I take it as lovingly as it is offered, and we shall 
 together rejoice in it. 
 
 I hope that, by and by, when all these eartlily days are ended, and we 
 are gone hence, the youngest of us as well as the oldest, we shall be joined 
 in the perfect blessedness wrought by the vision of perfect faith, in that 
 
60 APPENDIX. 
 
 celestial City, where the day never ends, where storniss never beat, where 
 flowers never fade, and where we shall see our Master face to face, and he 
 with Him forever ! 
 
 The following Hymn was then sung : — 
 
 JERUSALEM THE GOLDEN. 
 
 Jerusalem tlie Golden I 
 
 With milk and honey blest ; 
 Beneath thy contemplation 
 
 Sink heart and voice opprest. 
 I know not, ! I know not, 
 
 What social joys are there ; 
 What radiancy of glory, 
 
 What liglit beyond compare. 
 
 They stand, those halls of Sion, 
 
 All jubilant with song, 
 .And bright with many an angel, 
 
 And all the martyr throng. 
 The Prince is ever in them. 
 
 The day-light is serene ; 
 The pastures of the blessed 
 
 Are decked in glorious sheen. 
 
 There is the throne of David ; 
 
 And there from care released, 
 The song of them that trinmph. 
 
 The shout of them that feast ; 
 And they, who with their Leader 
 
 Have conquereil in the fight. 
 Forever and forever 
 
 Arc clad in robes of white. 
 
 sweet and blessed country, 
 
 The home of God's elect ! 
 sweet and blessed country. 
 
 That eager hearts expect ! 
 Jesus, in mercy bring us 
 
 To that dear land of rest ; 
 Who art, with God the Father, 
 
 And Spirit, ever blest. Amen. 
 
 PRAYER WAS THEN OFFERED BY DR. STORKS. 
 
 Almighty God, most merciful Father, wlio art the Author of our life, and 
 the Giver of every good and perfect gift : we bless Thee for this hour of happi- 
 ness, of fellowship with one another, of common praise, and of common suppli- 
 cation. We thank Thee for the life and health of those who are gathered as 
 pupils in these Sunday-schools ; that they have been preserved thus far from 
 
APPENDIX. 61 
 
 dangers seen and unseen, and ,i;uided in safety on tlieir way in life. We thank 
 Thee for the tidings, great, antl beautiful, and gracious, which come to them 
 afresh with every Lord's daj', of the love of Him who is the Lord of glory, but 
 who was Himself a babe in Bethlehem, and a child in Nazareth. AVe bless 
 Thee that Thou hast given the spirit of love, and of consecration, the si)irit of wis- 
 dom and faith and hope, unto those to whom is committed the instruction of 
 those who come to receive it from them, — that they are permitted to teach others 
 out of the treasures of their experience. In that experience may they them- 
 selves be ever enriched. In their vision of the truth may thej- be illumined, as 
 they bring the light of wisdom which they have unto those who are comliiitted 
 in part to their care. May Thy blessing be upon all who are associated in these 
 schools as officers and teachers ; and upon all who are taught in them, that 
 every one may receive the Divine instruction into a rejoicing heart, into an 
 intelligent mind, with confiding faith, with gladness and with praise, ilay the 
 life of God, coming by the power of the Holy Ghost, be in each of these hearts — 
 the life within the life to each of those who here guiile and teach, and to each 
 of those who receive their instruction. 
 
 We bless and i>raise Thee, our Heavenlj^ Father, for all that Thou hast done 
 for this Church in the years that are past ; especially now for those who have been 
 baptized into it, and who have then been received to its communion ; who have 
 been taught in its schools, and who have afterward come to take office in these 
 schools upon themselves, and to stand in their turn in jJaces of influence and of 
 power. And now, most merciful Father, we commend to Thee this church with 
 which we are so tenderly and sacredly associated, and pray that Thy blessing may 
 rest upon it in all time to come, even as in the time past, and yet Uiore abundantly. 
 We pray that Thy blessing may rest upon every household represented before 
 Thee here ; and that in each one, parents and children may be found walking 
 together, seeking the heavenly Home, by the only celestial path. And at last, 
 when our life on earth is ended, gather us there, we pray Thee, in the fellowship 
 of the saints, at the Marriage Supper of the Lamb, in the beauty, felicity and 
 praise of Paradise. And, unto the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Spirit, 
 will we give the glory evermore ! 
 
 Hear us in this our prayer, accept us in our confession of sin, and our entreaty 
 for Thy forgiveness, and grant us all the spiritual gifts which it is Thine alone 
 to bestow, for the sake of Him who loved us, who gave Himself for us, and who 
 hath taught us to pray, saying, — 
 
 Our Father who art in Heaven, hallowed be Thy name. Thy kingdom 
 come. Thy wiU be done on earth, as it is in Heaven. Give us this day our 
 daily bread. And forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass 
 against us. And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil : for 
 Thine is the kingdom, and tlie power, and the glory, forever and ever. Amen. 
 
 Tlie grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, the love of God, and the communion of 
 the Holy Ghost, be with us all, evermore. Amen. 
 
63 APPENDIX. 
 
 PUBLIC EECEPTION. 
 
 The Committee of gentlemen having charge of tlie Eeception given to Dr. 
 and Mrs Storrs on the evening of November 18th, was as follows, representing 
 the Trustees, the Officers of the church, and tlie Young People's Association : — ■ 
 
 Mr. Walter T. Hatch, Mr. Joseph E. Brown, 
 
 Mr. Fraxklix AVoodruff, Mr. Joseph Haslehuust, 
 
 Mr. James P. AVallace, Mr. Abbott L. Dow, 
 
 Mr. George P. Stockwell, Mr. S. B. Chittenden, Jr., 
 
 Mr. Thomas E. Stillman, Mr. Arthur M. Hatch, 
 
 Mr. Henry S. Woodruff. 
 
 At the request of the Coniniittee, many ladies and gentlemen of the congre- 
 gation took part in superintending and conducting the Eeception, and many 
 young gentlemen gave efficient service as ushers. 
 
 Not only the members of the church and congregation of the Church of the 
 Pilgrims, but a very large number of distinguished citizens of Brooklyn and 
 New York, with many eminent clergymen of the different Protestant commu- 
 nions in either city, were in attendance at the Eeception, and had the oppor- 
 tunity to express personally their regard and their congratulations to the Pastor 
 and his wife. After they liad done so, in a procession constantly and rapidly 
 passing for an hour and a half, a brief religious service was held in the church, 
 as follows : 
 
 TE DEUJI, BY THE CHOIR. 
 
 Prayer, by Eev. George F. Pentecost, D.D. 
 
 Thou most gracious, ever blessed and beloved Head of the Church : we 
 are gathered in this Thy sanctuary to-night to do honor to Thy servant, all of 
 whose honor cometh from Thee ! We beseech Thee therefore that Thy Presence 
 may abide with us, and may sanctify all the doings of tlie hour which is past, 
 and all the doings of the hour which is now with us. Gracious Lord, for forty 
 years Thou hast dwelt here with Thy servant. Thou hast upheld his hands, and 
 hast made his ministry strong. Out of all these years there have come up con- 
 stant praises to Thee, through the testimony of his lips, and in the ministry of 
 his life, whilst Thou hast shown ever anew Thine eternal love and faithfulness 
 to Thy people. 
 
 O gracious Lord, whilst we thank Thee that Thou hast raised up and 
 strengthened the man who hath borne Thy message, and who hath stood in Thy 
 stead before this people of God, we thank Thee also that Thou hast made us to 
 
APPENDIX. 63 
 
 know Tliine own presence, behind all this ministry, and in the midst of this 
 teaching. We thank Thee, that to-niglit tiie hearts of tliis pcojile are hound 
 up in him whom Thou liast made tlieir ovei'seer for Thee, because he hath h-d 
 them one by one unto tlie kaowk^ilge of Thee, tlieir Saviour and tlieir Lord. 
 We thank Thee for the honor which comes to him from this cit}% whoso growth 
 and development he has not only seen, but, to whatsoever is best in them, has 
 contributed so largely of his own life and of his own gifts. We pray Thee that 
 the institutions which he hath builded here may abide through the generations 
 to come ; and though it was not given to him to build on another man's founda- 
 tion, we thank Thee that it hath been given him to lay foundations so broad, 
 so deep, and so abiding, that generations to come may build u]ion them, and 
 themselves in turn be built upon them, through those wlio shall come after him 
 in the ministry of the Gospel of the Son of (jod. 
 
 AVe pray Thee that whilst we are honoring Thy servant to-night, our hearts 
 may be drawn out in abundant joy at tlie thought of the Lord Jesus Christ, 
 who, having loved His own, loves them to the end ; and that a deepening spirit 
 of loyalty to the Truth, which has been steadily preached from this pulpit, of 
 loyalty to the Word of (xod in all its teachings, of loyalty to the Church of 
 God, and to the Xame of Jesus Christ, may lie strengthened in the hearts of all 
 whose memories are here quickened to recall the messages of these forty years, 
 and to review the ministrations of this long life in the midst of them. 
 
 We invoke Thy Divine blessing uiion the reverend head of Thy servant. 
 Make his remaining ilays yet more aliundant in blessing to himself, and more 
 abundant in blessing to his people, to the city, to the whole laml and to the 
 world, than Thou hast made those to be in the years which are gone. We thank 
 Thee that Thou hast not imly permitted him to live and to speak in the midst of 
 this Thy people, but hast also given him o]iportunity to put into permanent 
 form such instruction and wisdom, and such gathered stores of learning, that 
 generations to- come, on both sides of the sea, shall be enriched by the treasures 
 which Thou hadst committed to his ciire. We pray for Thy blessing upon all 
 who are near and dear to him. Fill his hands with blessing. Fill his heart, 
 and liis household, with blessing. Pour out blessings upon his children, and 
 upon his grandchildren. Raise up to come after him successive generations of 
 spiritual men, who shall take the torch when lie lays it do\vn, and shall stead- 
 fastly maintain the doctrine and truth of the Son of God, in this place where he 
 has nobly and manfully stood for s<j many years. 
 
 May the blessing of God rest upon this great church, which has been gath- 
 ered by hundreds, and even by thousands, under his ministry. Multiply the 
 strength here of all believers. Increase tlieir beneficence, and intensify their 
 spiritual faith. May this church be still the mother of many charities, which 
 shall be established and reproduced throughout the length and lireadth of this 
 city. May it be ever henceforth a great and pulsing centre of spiritual life, 
 sending forth continual lilessing into every ward and precinct of the town. 
 
64 APPENDIX. 
 
 Bless, we beseech Thee, tliis waiting congregation. Maj' we all go hence,- say- 
 inc : " It was good for us to go up to the house of the Lord ! It was good for 
 us to honor, in Christ's name, one of the Lord's anointed servants ! It was good 
 for us to have our memories refreshed by the suggestions of his long ministry ! 
 It was good for us to have our hearts thrilled by the thought that after nearly 
 two thousand years from His coming to the world Jesus is mightier to-day. His 
 Gospel more powerful, the Holy Ghost mure wide and effective in His operation, 
 in all the Avorld, than they were at the beginning." INIay these blessed thoughts 
 kindle in our hearts ever fresh and blessed hopes ! May they quicken in our 
 souls new enthusiasm, and nerve us for the fight that is always before us, in this 
 day when the truth is being denied, and when the god of this world is mar- 
 shalling his forces for tremendous assault upon the Church of God, and upon 
 the Word. Strengthen every arm, nerve every heart, sanctify every life, upon 
 which hath been named the Name of Jesus Christ ; and may these thousands of 
 witnesses gathered to-night . to do honor to Thy servant, and to Thee through 
 him, go from this place with a stronger purpose than ever before to give glory 
 in all their work and life to the name of Jesus Christ, the Master, tlie Saviour, 
 the Lord of us all. We ask it all for His name's sake. Amen. 
 
 Dr. Stores then said : I thank you all, my dear Friends ; I cordially thank 
 every one of you ; not only in my own behalf, but' in behalf of her who has 
 been most intimately associated with me in all my years in this church of 
 Christ, and on behalf of our children, for the great and beautiful honor which 
 you have done us this evening. I most fervently echo the prayer that tlie blessing 
 of the Most High may abide upon you all ! 
 
 I will ask you now to unite in singing the Doxology ; after which I will ask 
 the Reverend Dr. Behrends, \\'ho is present with us, to ])ronounce the Benedic- 
 tion. There will then be another opjiortunity for social intercourse, in the 
 Lecture-room. 
 
 The vast congregation then rose and joined in singing 
 
 The Doxology. 
 
 Praise God, from wliora all ble.ssino;s flow ; 
 Praise Him, all creatures here below ; 
 Praise Him above, ye Heavenly Host ; 
 Praise Father, Son, and Holy Ghost. 
 
 Kev. Dr. A. J. F. Behrends pronounced 
 
 The Benediction. 
 
 The grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, the love of God, and the communion of 
 the Holy Ghost, be and abide with you all, evermore ! Amen. 
 
APPENDIX. 65 
 
 PRESENTATION OF SILVER-PLATE, BY THE YOUNG PEOPLE'S 
 
 ASSOCIATION. 
 
 The followiiij^ correspondence will at once explain itself: — 
 
 Brooklyn, November 16th, 1886. 
 
 Dear Doctor Storrs: — As President of the Young People's Association of 
 our church, the pleasant duty devolves upon me of sending the accompanying 
 token of its remembrance to Mrs. Storrs and yourself, on the fortieth anniversary 
 of your settlen)ent among us, which is to be celebrated on the 18th inst. 
 
 Of the appropriateness and of your appreciation of a gift from tlie younger 
 element of the church, we feel assured, knowing as we do how much and how 
 tenderly this element has been in your thoughts, and feeling greatly inihdited to 
 you for many worthy prece])ts taught, and for the example of noble character 
 which has been before us for such a long time. 
 
 For the years — and we trust they may be many — that are to come, we wish 
 both for you and your good wife a continuance of happiness most aljundaut ; and 
 we offer you our best efforts, in order that, still under your guidance and leader- 
 ship, from the young people of to-day may be built up the Church of the Pil- 
 grims of the future. 
 
 With renewed assurances of our best wishes, I remain, as ever, 
 Faithfully yours, 
 
 Henry S. Woodruff, 
 
 R. S. Storrs, D.D., LL.D. 
 
 For the Young People's Association. 
 
 80 PiERREPONT Street, 
 Brooklyn, November 17th, 1886. 
 
 Dear Friend: — Nothing could have been more delightful to Mrs. Storre 
 and myself than a testimonial of the affectionate attachment of those who are 
 united in the Young People's Association of the Church of the Pilgrims. 
 
 The superb gift which has come from them, through you, this evening, ele- 
 gant and rich as it is in itself, is yet more dear and beautiful to us as represent- 
 ing tlie loving regard from which it conies. It will be a witness of this to our 
 children's children, and will sliow them how happy we have been and are in 
 possessing the confidence and affectionate honor of those who have known us 
 frowi their childhood. 
 
 Most of all we thank you for tlie assurance of your best efforts to build up 
 on its present foundations the Church of the Pilgrims of the future. They who 
 have long been active in it must ere long, one by one, pass away. It is a thought 
 full of gladness to each of us, not only that we shall be still affectionately 
 remembered by you all in coming years, but that the church, which has been .so 
 
66 APPENDIX. 
 
 noble and beautiful a Christian Home for all of us, will be sustained, and 
 still further enriched, in its faith, its sjiirit, and its work, by those who come 
 after \is. 
 
 With warmest love, and heartiest thanks, to all who have been associated 
 with you in this most beautiful act and gift, we are 
 Ever affectionately yours, 
 
 R. S. AND M. E. Storrs. 
 Mr. H. S. Woodruff, 
 
 President of Youn}^ People's Associatioii. 
 
 CORRESPONDENCE AVITH THE HARVARD CHURCH, BROOK- 
 LINE, MASS. 
 
 Dr. Storrs was called in his youth from the Harvard Church in Brookline, 
 Mass., to become the Pastor of the Church of the Pilgrims. It was felt by the 
 latter church that the church which lie had early left, and to which, with his 
 wife, he hail always remained most affectionately attached, should be specially 
 invited to participate in the services connected with the celebration of the com- 
 pletion of his forty years' pastorate in Brooklyn. The following letter was 
 therefore addresssd to the Harvard Church by a Committee consisting of gentle- 
 men, still remaining in the Church of the Pilgrims, who were active in the 
 original call to Dr. Storrs, in 1846 : — 
 
 Brooklyn, N. Y., November 6, 1886. 
 
 To the Pddor, Officers, and Members nf the Harvard Church, Brnokline, Mass.: — 
 Reverend and Beloved: — In July, 1846, the Church of the Pilgrims in 
 this city called to its pastorate one who had been your beloved minister for less 
 than a year. Such a call, to one who had so recently been happily settled, was 
 unusual, and woidd have been inexcusable except for the circumstances in which 
 this church was then placed, with great openings set before it, while apparently 
 unable to unite in cordial harmony on any other person known to it as its Pastor- 
 elect. He who was then your Minister felt constrained by convictions of duty 
 to accept our call ; and in God's good providence he has remained with us from 
 November, 1846, to the present time, never forgetting, as he has often assured 
 us, the church and parish of his first care, though always happy in the honu^ and 
 the work which he has found here. We propose to celebrate the completion of 
 his fortieth year in the pastorate of this church, without any elaborate or com- 
 plicated arrangements, to which he is averse, by a sociid reunion of the congre- 
 gation at the church on the evening of Thursday, November 18th ; and it would 
 be a great pleasure to us, as well as to our Pastor, if we might welcome on that 
 occasion to our hospitality some of your nundier. We rejoice with you, always, 
 in the great and beautiful pi'(is]>erity which (loil has given to your church, as to 
 
APPENDIX. 67 
 
 ours, in this long course of years. We pray that your wliole liistory as a church 
 may be full of Christian happiness, usefulness, and enlarging power. And we 
 are, dear brethren, on behalf of the Church of the Pilgrims, sincerely and affec- 
 tionately yours, in the faith and service of Christ, 
 
 S. B. Chittenden, 
 
 Walter T. Hatch, 
 
 C. L. JIlTCHELL, 
 
 H. I). Sharpe, 
 A. Woodruff, 
 S. F. Phelps, 
 C. B. Aborn, 
 
 Members of the Church of 
 the Pilgrims in 1846 and 
 1886. 
 
 To the above letter the following reply was received from the Harvard 
 Church, and the Reception Committee had the very great pleasure of welcoming 
 several representatives of that church on the evening of the 18th : — 
 
 Brookline, Mass., November 13, 1886. 
 To the Officers and Members of the Church of the Pilr/rims, Broo/di/n, jV. Y.: — 
 
 Dear Brethren : — In reply to a letter addressed to us, signed by members 
 of your church who were in its fellowship in the year 1846, when the Rev. Dr. 
 Storrs was called to its ministry, we beg to assure you of our appreciation of the 
 privilege of being allowed to be represented, by several esteemed brethren from 
 the Harvard Church, at your meeting on November 18tli. 
 
 The Harvard Church regards itself as a kind of ])reface to the volume con- 
 taining the records of the ministry of your beloved Pastor. 
 
 But ftiur of tliose wild callrd him to his first brief jiastonite remain; they, 
 however, represent the general feeling of warm regard which has always been, 
 and is, entertained toward Dr. Storrs in tliis church. If with us the brilliant 
 dawn was soon becliiude<l, and tlie daylight since has never erpialled it in promise 
 and splendor, yet the light has ever .shone through tlie clouds that have some- 
 times hovered over \is, and we have had our fair share of sunshine. 
 
 The new and beautiful structure, one of the m(jst admired for its architectural 
 purity in all New England, which has superseded the less commodious building 
 to which your Pastor was called, has on several occasions been adorned and 
 beautified by his presence. AVe have followed his history with an interest which 
 could hardly belong to others outside your own fellowship. We have rejoiced 
 in his goodness and greatness. We have had intelligence enough to ajjpreciate 
 the brilliant gifts w-ith which he has been endowed, the splendid culture by 
 which he has iloubled the talents which the Master entrusted to him, and have 
 gloried in the added greatness which his presence has often given to great occa- 
 sions in the history of the Congregational churches in our land. 
 
 To few churches does it belong to have a ministry so singularly rich in elo- 
 quence and spiritual power, continued through so long a period. To very few 
 
V 
 
 / 
 
 68 • APPENDIX. 
 
 Ministers is given the benediction of a people, so abundantly able to appreciate 
 through long years so high an order of ministry. 
 
 Ill an age when sensationalism has so often been substituted for the old 
 honest Christian thinking, with whicli our churches were in former days enriclied 
 in int(dligeuce and fortified in the faith, your Pastor has stood before the cliurches 
 as an illustration of a man who believed that the truths of .Scripture, expounded 
 with adeipiate intelligence, learning, and ability, were all-sufficient for the deep- 
 est needs of the heart of man. It is true that language, as used l)y him, lias 
 seemed to contain new force, and to be clad in new beauty. The old truths, as 
 he gave them utterance, have seemed to have a subtle charm of newness about 
 them. He has touched nothing which he has not adorned. In this respect he 
 has been in a position of advantage to which few, if any, could attain. 
 
 We join our congratulations with yours, that on the completion of his fortieth 
 year of pastorate in your church, lie is still in the fullness of his strength, " his 
 eye not dim, nor his natural force abated"; and we unite with you, fervently 
 and sinceriily, in the prayer that there may yet remain for him and for you, 
 many years of happy fellowship and Christian usefulness in the Church militant 
 here on earth, and that, wlien the close of this present opportunity of service 
 shall come, the great word of approval may be heard from His lips wlio alone 
 has the riglit and power to give it: "Well done, good and faithful servants; 
 enter ye into the joy of your Lord." 
 
 Signed, in behalf of the Harvard Church, 
 
 Eeuen Thomas, Pastor. 
 
 Charles W. Scudder, 
 
 Alicia H. Scudder, 
 
 Moses Withington, 
 
 Samuel A. Kobinson, 
 
 Members of the Church in 1846. 
 
 " Now unto Him that is able to do exceeding abundantly, above all 
 that we ask or think, according to the power that worketh in us, 
 unto Him be Glory in the Church, by Christ Jesus, throughout all 
 
 AGES, world without END ! AmEN." 
 
 \^ 
 
SlEi