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PAGE

FACING PAGE

Stephen M. Griswold Title

Henry Ward Beecher 15

Lyman Abbott 105

Newell Dwight Hillis 133

Beecher Statue, City Hall, Brooklyn 153

Interior of Plymouth Church 173

Chair Used by Henry Ward Beecher in 187 Plymouth Church

For some years past I have been repeatedly urged to record my recollections of Plymouth Church and Henry Ward Beecher. One after another the original members of the church have passed away until now I am almost alone, so far as the early church connection is concerned, and I have been told that there is really no one left who could give the personal value to such a record. At first, as I thought of the task, it appeared too great. Business duties pressed and left little time for such a work. Then out of the flood of recollections, which should I select? Recently a period of convalescence, following a somewhat serious illness, during which work was forbidden, gave me leisure which I occupied in recording such incidents as I thought might be of interest and value. These were arranged not in the form of history but as a series of sketches setting forth different phases of the church history and the church life, as well as illustrating Mr. Beecher himself as a preacher and pastor, but still more as a man. These are chiefly personal in their character. Fifty-three years of service as an usher in Plymouth Church brought me into closest touch with those services which have made Plymouth so well known not only in America, but throughout the world. Very precious are those memories to me, and as I have dwelt upon them, I have felt it not less a privilege than a duty to share them with others and thus bear testimony to a church life of great beauty and power.

The great metropolis of the East has ever had a great attraction for the sons of rural New England, and I was no exception to the rule. In 1851 I made known to my parents my ambition to see and know more of the world, and to this end I purposed to make my way to New York in search of fame and fortune--a wider horizon and a larger life. I had spent my uneventful days thus far on my father's farm, and both he and my mother were filled with dismay at my determination to go to what was, to them, a city of untold lawlessness and full of pitfalls, where an unsophisticated country youth like myself would be beset with many temptations on every hand, and be led away from the straight and narrow path of his upbringing by his godly parents. And truly the change would be great from the quiet home at Windsor in the beautiful valley of the Connecticut to the stir and bustle and crowds of a great city. So far as success in any business I might undertake or material gains were concerned, my parents were quite sure that the possibilities for advancement were hardly commensurate with the danger of discouragement and complete failure.

However, I had not spoken without careful thought, and when they saw how strongly I felt, and that I could not be content to live out my days on the farm, they consented to my going, though rather reluctantly; but it was what I wanted, and I did not feel that I was erecting a wall of separation which would shut me out of the home of my childhood; though I little thought how hard it would be to leave it when the time for my departure really came. My mother, following the custom of most New England matrons of those days--I wonder sometimes whether they are as careful now to do the same--placed in my satchel a Bible; and with that and her blessing, on the fourth of August, 1851, I started out to make my way in the world, arriving in New York, a lonely country boy, with no introductions and no one to hold out a helping hand.

Business opportunities were not so varied in character then as they are now, and mercantile pursuits seemed to loom up above every other; American ships were winning fame and fortune for merchants and seemed to me to offer the greatest prizes. For a few days I wandered about the city, going from office to office seeking employment, and before a week had passed I had secured it; going from New York over to Brooklyn and there continuing my quest, I secured a position as clerk in a business house on Atlantic Street.

For a time all went well; the hurry and bustle of the city, all so strange and fascinating to me; the new occupation, calling into play an entirely different line of thought; the new surroundings, all combined to ward off any feeling of loneliness or homesickness. A few weeks of this, however, sufficed to wear away the novelty, and a full sense of my solitary condition rushed over me; I had made few acquaintances and had practically no society. I began to look around for companions, or at least for some place where I could spend my evenings, when the time dragged most heavily.

It was fortunate for me that just at this point where so many young men are tempted to wander into questionable or even harmful ways, my thoughts were turned in a truly helpful direction. Like every newcomer, I had studied the notices in the papers and on the fences and bulletin boards, and of them all, the one that had the greatest attraction for me was that of Plymouth Church and Henry Ward Beecher, and I determined that the next Sunday I would find my way to the church and hear him preach, which I accordingly did. The large auditorium of the church was thronged, but I received such a cordial welcome as to make me feel at home, and was at once shown to a seat. That service was a revelation to me, it was in every respect so very different from anything I had ever seen or heard. The singing by the great congregation, the eloquence and withal the helpfulness of the preacher, made a deep impression on me--an impression that stayed with me throughout the week, and I determined to go again the next Sunday. This time I was so fortunate as to meet a young man whom I had known in Hartford. He was a friend of Dr. Henry E. Morrill, the superintendent of the Sunday School, and through him I was invited to become a member of a Bible Class, an invitation which I was very glad to accept. From this time on I had no reason to complain of any lack of social life. No young man or woman who was in Plymouth Church at this time could fail to find the very best type of society; under the leadership of Mr. Beecher this feature of church life was especially emphasised. The next year I became a member of the church, and from that time, during more than half a century, Plymouth Church has been more to me than I can possibly express.

At the time of my coming to Brooklyn, Plymouth Church was but four years old, yet it had already gained a most prominent position not only in Brooklyn and New York, but in the entire country, and indeed was rapidly achieving an international reputation. A brief sketch of its history to this time will not be out of place.

In 1823, when the entire population of Brooklyn was less than ten thousand, and the most densely populated section to-day was but barren fields, two brothers, John and Jacob M. Hicks, bought seven lots running through from Cranberry to Orange Streets, for the use of "The First Presbyterian Church." Two buildings were erected: a church edifice fronting on Cranberry Street was built at once, and seven years later a lecture room fronting on Orange Street was added. Under the pastorates of Rev. Joseph Sanford, Rev. Daniel L. Carroll, D. D., and Rev. Samuel H. Cox, D. D., the church prospered, and in 1846 the question came up of a more commodious edifice. Learning of this, John T. Howard, at that time a member of the Congregational Church of the Pilgrims, Rev. R. S. Storrs, Jr., pastor, conceived the idea of a new Congregational church in that locality. Conference with David Hale of the Broadway Tabernacle Church, New York, strengthened him, and he obtained the refusal of the Presbyterian property for ,000. In September, by the payment of 00, furnished by Henry C. Bowen, Seth B. Hunt, John T. Howard, and David Hale, the property was secured. The new building of the First Presbyterian Church was not completed until May, 1847, and on the same day that it was opened, May 16, Henry Ward Beecher preached the first sermon in Plymouth Church to audiences that crowded the edifice on Cranberry Street to the doors.

The method of organisation was somewhat unique. The first meeting in the interest of the church was held at Mr. Bowen's house on the evening of May 8, the day before the Presbyterians were to vacate their old edifice. There were present, besides Mr. Bowen, David Hale, Jira Payne, John T. Howard, Charles Rowland, and David Griffin. On behalf of the owners David Hale offered the property for religious purposes, and it was decided to have services on May 16. Henry Ward Beecher, at that time pastor of the Second Presbyterian Church in Indianapolis, who had come to New York for the May anniversaries, had made an address at the meeting of the American Home Missionary Society, and had also spoken elsewhere, winning great popular favour. He was secured for the morning and evening services, and Rev. Mr. Eggleston, of Ellington, Conn., preached in the afternoon. Notice was given of a permanent series of weekly prayer meetings to be held on Friday evenings, and at the first of these, May 21, a committee, consisting of Henry C. Bowen, Richard Hale, John T. Howard, Charles Rowland, and Jira Payne, was appointed to make arrangements for the formation of a church. They reported on June 11, at which time twenty-one persons signified their intention to join the church, and the next day a council of ministers and delegates met at the house of John T. Howard. The articles of faith, covenant, credentials of the new members, etc., were presented and approved, and on June 13, 1847, the new church was publicly organised, the Rev. R. S. Storrs, Jr., preaching the sermon. The following evening the church by a unanimous vote elected Henry Ward Beecher to be their pastor. Two months later he wrote from Indianapolis accepting the call. On October 10 he commenced his labours, and on November 11 he was installed. The sermon was preached by Dr. Edward Beecher, other parts being taken by Drs. Nathaniel Hewitt, D. C. Lansing, Horace Bushnell, Rev. R. S. Storrs, Jr., and Rev. J. P. Thompson.

The first winter proved the wisdom of the new enterprise. An interesting revival brought in a large number of new members, and it was not long before it became evident that the buildings were entirely inadequate. There was talk of rebuilding, when a fire, in January, 1849, settled the question by destroying the building. Plans for a new edifice were drawn, and after some months of worship in a temporary Tabernacle in Pierrepont Street, the present building was entered on the first Sunday of 1850.

It will readily be seen that it was a live church that I joined, and after half a century of experience and observation, I can only thank God that I was brought to connect myself with it. It was not merely the marvellous preaching of Mr. Beecher, which I feel helped me greatly; it was the whole atmosphere of aggressive work. The great audiences, crowding the pews so that aisle chairs had to be put in, was in itself an inspiration; so was also the fine music with John Zundel at the organ and the large choir leading the vast congregation. The cordial social atmosphere that made even a stranger feel at home also had its share, but more than all these put together, or perhaps better, manifest through all these, was the sense that church life was a means to an end, not an end in itself, and that that end was the building up of a true and noble Christian life in all its different phases. Surely no higher conception of a church's sphere can be found, and to this I believe to be due more than to any other one thing the power of Plymouth Church.

It was a little more than a year after I became a member of Plymouth Church that I began my work as an usher, and for fifty-three years I have been identified with Plymouth Church in that capacity. An usher has peculiar opportunities to study human nature, both individually and collectively. His first acquaintance is with the pewholders, and these he quickly learns to distinguish. Plymouth Church was remarkably hospitable from the first. The strangers within its gates usually outnumbered the regular membership, and they represented all classes and conditions of men, but not more representative were they than the company of those who were the constant attendants on its services--the relied-upon supporters of its enterprises. It was not a wealthy congregation. There were a few men of means; excepting possibly Claflin, Bowen, Sage, Hutchinson, Storrs, Arnold, Graves, Corning, Healy, Bush, Benedict, Dennis, there were no merchant princes or princely bankers. The greater number were earnest, aggressive men who had something to do in life besides make money. Generous whenever generosity was needed, they were for the most part what are called "hard-headed" business men. They were in Plymouth Church, not because it was fashionable to be there, or because it had the most noted pastor in America, if not in the world, but because they were in sympathy with its purpose and the purpose of its pastor, and felt that there they could best serve their day and generation.

Dominated by this spirit, it was in entire keeping with their habit of thought and action that they should seek to extend as widely as possible the enjoyment of the privileges of their own church life. Hence they were cordial to all visitors to the various religious services, as well as to the social gatherings that were held. It was the general custom in Plymouth, as in most churches, to keep the seats for the regular pewholders until the commencement of the service. Those who were not in their places at that time had to stand their chances with the guests, and what those chances were may be gathered from the fact that it was usual on Sunday morning to see a line of people standing in front of the church and leading on the one side to Henry Street and on the other to Hicks Street, waiting to be admitted to the service. Still it was very rare that there was any hard feeling, and certainly no expression of it was manifest when pewholders to whom a sermon by Mr. Beecher was the great treat of the week, but who for one reason or another were delayed, found their seats occupied, and were compelled themselves either to stand or withdraw entirely.

The hospitality, too, was thoroughly democratic. It may be doubted whether any church in the land, not even excepting those of the Roman Catholic worship, gave so genuine a welcome to every sort of people, rich or poor, high or low, educated or uneducated, white, black or brown, as did Plymouth Church. No man, woman, or child was allowed to feel out of place, or unwelcome. That this was and is true, is a notable testimony to the influences that controlled the church from its very beginning.

When we consider the guests, their number and quality, the ushers used sometimes to wonder where they all came from. Truly, the fame of Plymouth had gone into all the world. Travellers visited it, just as they went to Washington or Niagara. It was "the thing" to hear Henry Ward Beecher in Plymouth Church--usually the two were absolutely identical. Distinguished men from all walks in life, in America and every other country in Christendom, were there. Famous editors, popular ministers, eminent statesmen, great generals, were to be seen in the audience Sabbath after Sabbath. Among those whom I remember were Louis Kossuth, Abraham Lincoln, General Grant, Charles Dickens, Wendell Phillips, Theodore Parker, William Lloyd Garrison, Charles Sumner, the poet Whittier, Horace Greeley, besides a host of others. During the Civil War most of the so-called War Governors, Andrews of Massachusetts, Buckingham of Connecticut, Morgan of New York, Curtin of Pennsylvania, and others, were to be seen in the congregation, and it was not an uncommon occurrence to see many of the New England regiments on their way to the field, stop over Sunday and march into Plymouth Church. It had become identified with those higher purposes and deeper principles of the war which appealed most of all to the New England conscience.

Of course they all want good seats. It is astonishing how many people come who are hard of hearing, and want front pews; and if they are seated on the left they cannot hear in the right ear, and if on the right, they cannot hear in the left ear. All this was not unnoticed by Mr. Beecher, as we realised one day when, as he entered the pulpit, he turned to Mr. Whitney, on duty there, and putting his hand to his ear quietly said, "I am very hard of hearing, can you not give me a front seat?" Others, if you give them a front seat, say it tires their eyes to look up, and if they are seated too far back, they cannot see. It is the duty of the usher to satisfy all. That strangers come so constantly is witness to the cordiality and courtesy of their reception and treatment. Mr. Beecher frequently said that the ushers helped him in no small degree in the Sunday services.

The general bearing of the audience was always reverential. There was none of the solemn formality seen in a good many churches. To some people it doubtless savoured more of a lecture hall than of a church. The form of the auditorium was the reverse of the stately Gothic. There was no dim religious light. Plenty of windows let in plenty of light and plenty of fresh air. The pews were comfortable. Under any other preacher they might have conduced to decorous naps. There was no excess of dress. People wore clothes for comfort, not for show, and if perchance they commenced with style they invariably ended with simplicity.

There was, too, a breezy sort of cheeriness about the whole place. Quiet, friendly chatting between friends went on, but it was never obtrusive, or interfered with devotion. The moment service commenced it was manifest that it was divine service, not a public entertainment. Mr. Beecher was a wonderful reader, and to hear his rendering of a chapter in the Bible, or of a hymn new or old, was in itself a great privilege. During the prayer there was a stillness that could be felt. Few men have greater, or as great a gift in bringing men to the recognition of their communion with God.

With the sermon there was evident a general attitude of expectancy. Something was coming, and everyone wanted to be sure and get it. Sometimes it was humorous, and a ripple of laughter would go over the audience. Those who heard about it were apt to be shocked and to consider it irreverent. It is doubtful whether anyone who was present ever had that feeling. Sometimes it was pathetic, and there was suspicious fumbling in pockets. Sometimes it was soul-stirring, and one could see the forms quiver and grow tense. Most often it was that calm, quiet, yet forceful presentation of truth, not in the abstract as something to be looked upon from various angles, then labelled and put aside, but practical, affecting the daily life; and faces would grow earnest, and the results would be seen in the home, the shop, or the office.

Service over, Plymouth Church people gathered in knots to chat over--pretty much everything, for it was like one big family. Strangers looked on with curiosity, generally appreciative, less often with a certain air of disapproval at the apparent levity. One thing was noticeable: those who came once generally came again at some time, and so faces that had been strange came to wear a familiar look.

Few, if any, churches in the country, certainly none in Greater New York, preserve the old-time simplicity of the typical New England Congregational Church as distinct as does Plymouth Church. The building itself, with no steeple, the form of its auditorium, unusual at that period in a church, the arrangement of its pews, all were indeed innovations, and they have been followed, though hardly improved upon, in building other church edifices. When it comes to the conduct of worship, however, it is severe in its simplicity. There is the opening hymn shared by the congregation, a short invocation, reading of the Scripture, then the offering, and while it is being received an anthem is sung by the choir.

The "long" prayer is followed by a hymn; but the chief feature of the entire service is always the sermon, after which comes a hymn and the benediction. The evening service followed the order of that of the morning. Of elaborate liturgies there has been no hint, yet the service has ever been both impressive and interesting. People explained it at first by the peculiar power of the man who occupied the pulpit, yet this can hardly account for its continuance to the present day in its original form. The succeeding pastors have continued the plan, not because Mr. Beecher started it or perhaps because they themselves preferred it, but because it seems to fit Plymouth Church, and is enjoyed by Plymouth congregations. Somehow a liturgy would seem entirely out of place there, however appropriate it might be elsewhere, and not only is this recognised, but there seems to have been at no time any desire to make the service more elaborate.

When it comes to the conduct of the different parts of the service, however, there was nothing humdrum, or that savoured of routine. Mr. Beecher was a remarkable reader. Delicate shades of meaning came out in the very tones of his voice, and his power of intense sympathy made it easy for him to impersonate for the time being almost any character. Had he turned his attention to the stage he would have been a wonderful actor. As he read the Scriptures the Bible characters stood out with marvellous distinctness; we could almost see them or hear them. He entered also so fully into the deepest meaning of what he read that the rendering shed new light on some of the most difficult passages of the Bible. Attention has more than once been called to his rendering of those verses in which the Saviour speaks so strongly of the Scribes and Pharisees. He would read them as if they were fairly afire with indignation and wrath; then, softening his voice, read them again with an infinite pathos, as if they were prophecy rather than condemnation, and ask which rendering was more in accord with the nature of Jesus.

The same thing was manifest in his rendering of hymns. He was extremely fond of poetry, and searched far and wide for the best hymns. Our first hymn book was a little one known as Temple Melodies. Mr. Beecher could not get along with this, and with the aid of his brother, Rev. Charles Beecher, and the organist, John Zundel, compiled and published the Plymouth Collection. This long held its place at the head of church hymnals and really worked a revolution in church music.

The sermon needs no description from me--even if I could give it. It seemed the very expression of the man, his interpretation of himself. Mr. Beecher was to all appearance well-nigh reckless in the vigour with which he made statements that seemed to him to be true, with little or no regard to their relation to other truths. The result was that he was charged with being grossly inconsistent. One day he would preach a sermon that would have delighted the old New England divines. The next Sunday he seemed an out-and-out Unitarian, while Quakers, Swedenborgians and all sorts of beliefs claimed him. The explanation was that he saw very clearly the element of truth in any system, whether he agreed with it in full or not, and in his effort to state it plainly and give due credit to it, often left the impression that the particular statement he made was all there was to it. One result was that the independent forming of opinions was encouraged and helped in Plymouth Church as in few churches. Those who imagined that Mr. Beecher dominated the thought of his people to an extent which made them mere echoes of himself were very far from the truth. It was an intellectual stimulus to sit under him, not merely in the effort to keep up with his thought, which poured forth like Niagara, but in the compulsion to form an independent personal opinion. Men loved to hear him, not so much because they always agreed with him as because he had the faculty of stimulating the best there was in them, arousing their highest ambitions.

In no single service was Mr. Beecher at his best so completely as in the communion service. It was distinctively a family gathering in which the host was not Mr. Beecher, or Plymouth Church, but the Saviour, and to it were welcome all who loved that Saviour, whatever their formal creed or church connection, or even if they were without any creed or connection; this was the impression left upon those who came from other churches, and this was the description of it given me by a theological student, who said that he came from a distant city to Brooklyn and timed his visit primarily with reference to that service and especially to Mr. Beecher's invitation as given by him from the pulpit. In these days there is nothing very startling in that position, but in the earlier times it was regarded as a very unsafe liberality, even if not absolutely wrong.

As I have already said, the music of Plymouth Church has always been an important part of the church worship. The high-priced quartet has never been relied upon, the chorus choir being preferred, not merely for its own singing, but because it served best in leading the congregation, and that was the thing ever kept in mind. Mr. Beecher loved the old-fashioned hymns, though he had also a hearty welcome for new ones, and he was never satisfied unless he got everybody to singing. I have often seen him jump up from his chair right in the middle of a hymn and hold up his hand for silence. "You are not singing this hymn right," he would say. "Sing it with more spirit, and let everybody sing." The effect upon the congregation would be electric, and after that the church would fairly tremble with the volume of music the audience would pour forth. The result has been that it has always been the fashion for everybody in the congregation, strangers as well as members, to sing, and this undoubtedly has had a share in doing away with coldness and formality in the service.

All this, however, could not have been accomplished without the cordial sympathy and positive help of many great organists and leading singers. There have been more famous musicians engaged for Plymouth Church Choir during the past fifty years than in any other church in this country, if not in the world. Among the names I may mention are Zundel, Burnet, Stebbins, Wheeler, Thursby, Toedt, Sterling, Lasar, Damrosch, Warrenwrath, Camp, and many others. Of them all probably John Zundel came the nearest to Mr. Beecher's ideal. He entered heartily into all the preacher's ideas and feelings and seemed to understand just how to interpret him in music; Mr. Beecher used to say that he inspired his sermons. It has not been surprising that even with the inevitable changes brought by time, there have been but few intervals, and those very brief, from the organisation of the church up to the present time, when the music has not been of the highest order, and the standard of to-day is in no respect inferior to that of the past.

One Sunday morning, I think it was in 1852, someone sent him a small bouquet in a vase. He took it to church with him, placed it on the little table at his side, and there it remained during the service. It is difficult in these days to understand what a commotion it occasioned. Such a thing as bringing flowers into a church on the Sabbath day had never been heard of, and was not at all in accord with traditional New England ideas. Everyone in the congregation of course noticed it, and that bouquet of flowers became during the week the talk of all Brooklyn.

There were not a few who were alarmed at Mr. Beecher's rapidly growing popularity, and who made a point of finding fault with everything he did. These declared that Henry Ward Beecher had desecrated the House of God by taking flowers into the pulpit during religious worship! This, however, affected neither Mr. Beecher nor the church. Flowers on the pulpit had come to stay, and stay they did, and now are recognised as a legitimate part of church service all over the world.

Plymouth Church was born in days of strife. It was natural that the militant element should be dominant. The very way in which the church was organised was illustrative of their methods. The prompt improvement of the opportunity to buy the property, the meeting one week, the opening of services the next week, the organisation of the church, the calling of the council, the invitation to Mr. Beecher to be their pastor, all in quick succession, were characteristic.

Mr. Howard was one who naturally foresaw the possibilities for the future, and thus came into leadership in the origin of the enterprise. Once started, however, the initiative and the dominating influence belonged to a group of men, of considerable note at the time as being closely identified with the anti-slavery agitation, and who were out of patience with what they considered the time-serving policy of too many of the churches, and particularly of the various benevolent and missionary societies: Henry C. Bowen, Richard Hale, Arthur and Lewis Tappan. These were in business, chiefly dry goods, and had large connections with the South. As the strife grew more severe, complaints grew, and finally the Southern merchants drew up a list of Northern merchants with whom they would have no dealings. All four of these men were on that list. Mr. Bowen's partner, Mr. McNamee, was one with him, but it was Mr. Bowen in particular who sent the famous retort, when urged to cater to his Southern constituency:

"Our goods are for sale, but not our principles."

He, as others, suffered for this, but the only effect it had was to strengthen them in the position they had taken. The American nation owes a debt of gratitude to the patriotic New York merchants who stood for liberty and their country in these perilous times. Among the first were A. T. Stewart, Simeon B. Chittenden and H. B. Claflin.

Another prominent man was Austin Abbott, brother of Dr. Lyman Abbott, a well-known lawyer, and one who was closely identified with the defence of Mr. Beecher in his famous trial. Well do I remember him as he first came, a boy, and took his seat in the west gallery. Then there were Henry M. and Augustus Storrs. The former was an intimate friend of Horace Greeley and used to travel about with him in his political tours. Both were warm friends of Mr. Beecher, but Augustus was specially active; it was at his house in Sidney Place that many of the meetings for consultation were held. Robert R. Raymond came to Brooklyn from Boston and brought the classic atmosphere, combined with a most emphatic manner, to his professor's work in the Polytechnic Institute. He was one of the comparatively few who took part in the prayer meetings, which generally were really lecture talks by Mr. Beecher. He seemed to think that a literary atmosphere would certainly do no harm, for his favourite subject was Shakespeare, and he frequently read lengthy extracts from his plays. He became widely known as a student and reader of Shakespeare. His son, Rossiter Raymond, will be mentioned later.

Robert S. Bussing was specially interested in the Bethel Mission; at first it was independent, but afterwards became a regular part of Plymouth Church work. General Horatio C. King was among the leaders in somewhat later days. A son of Horatio King, United States Postmaster-General under Buchanan, he always identified himself with the various reform movements, especially the anti-slavery ones, and was thus in hearty sympathy with Mr. Beecher and Plymouth Church in its activities, and has for many years served as clerk of the church. Always interested in music, he was a fine organist and helped materially in that department of church worship. Another whose name became very widely known, especially at the time of the trial, was Thomas G. Shearman. He was also identified with every phase of church life, was clerk for many years, and an active and most loyal upholder of pastor and church.

For the most part these were not very wealthy men, though Augustus Storrs was esteemed such, and Mr. Bussing at one time had a large income. There were a few, however, of large means, and they gave most liberally: Horace B. Claflin, Rufus R. Graves, and Henry W. Sage. Mr. Sage will long be remembered for his generous gifts to Cornell University, and was always looked to for cordial support of any good cause in Brooklyn. Horace B. Claflin as founder of the great H. B. Claflin Company was not less munificent, though often in ways less prominent before the public, and the same may be said of Mr. Graves. These with Mr. Storrs were always bidders for the highest priced pews, paying premiums varying from 00 to 00 each.

Mention of even a few would include Benjamin F. Blair, Walter L. Wellington, F. G. Corning, son of Rev. J. L. Corning, one of the early members, George W. Mabie, T. W. Lauterdale, Philip M. Knight, Geo. W. Bardwell, Elijah R. Kennedy, Frank M. Brooks, Horace D. Sherrill, Jas. A. Brodie, Chas. N. Judson, Terance Jacobson, Dr. Wm. Morris Butler, Chas. H. More, Clarence B. Wisner, Wm. Foster, Benjamin F. Webb, H. Edward Dreier, Amos D. Carver, Wm. E. Davenport, W. F. Osborne, H. A. Garthewait, A. K. Powell, Frederick W. Starr, Louis N. Chapin, Dwight Studwell, Henry Sanger Snow, A. Stanwood, Seabury N. Haley, Wm. Tupper, Frederick W. Heinrich, H. W. Wheeler, M. C. Ogden, John H. Jackson, George A. Price, W. P. Long, Mr. Carpenter, Mr. Ramsay, Mr. Kenyon, Mr. Smith, Mr. Bingham, Mr. Ayers, Mr. Aderley, and many others.

It is impossible to understand accurately the early history of Plymouth Church, and realise the position it held in the country, as well as its influence over its members, without some knowledge of the general history of the times. It was a period of great political ferment. The slavery question was looming up as the "irrepressible conflict." The war with Mexico, at its height when the church was organised, precipitated the discussion as to the extension of slave territory. The discovery of gold in California opened up possibilities of national growth undreamed of before, and which stirred the greatest ambitions, especially in the slave states. The passage of the fugitive slave law was but fuel to the flame. Into the discussions of the time two Congregational ministers threw themselves with all the ardour of their natures, and exceptional ability--Henry Ward Beecher, of Plymouth Church, Brooklyn, and Joseph P. Thompson, of Broadway Tabernacle, New York. Nor did they lack for hearty support by their churches. The men who stood behind them were equally in earnest with themselves. The pulpits--or rather platforms--of both were free for the presentation of the cause of justice and liberty, and many scenes in them have become historic.

On one occasion the Broadway Tabernacle, at that time located on Broadway near Duane Street, was opened for a mass meeting. Mr. Beecher was advertised to speak, and the house was packed. He was listened to with closest attention and deepest interest, but the climax came when turning round he lifted a chain that had been taken from a slave in the South, held it for a moment high above his head, then dashed it to the floor, placed his foot upon it and said: "In this way we propose to deal with the slave power in the South." The effect upon the audience was thrilling and the applause fairly rocked the building.

Another scene, which none who witnessed it could ever forget, was in Plymouth Church. It was Sabbath morning, and as usual every seat and all the available standing room was filled. After the sermon Mr. Beecher said that he had a matter which he wished to present to the congregation. No one had the least idea as to what he was going to do, and the people waited in profound silence. He then said, "Sarah, come up here." As the audience looked, a little mulatto girl arose in the body of the church, ran up the pulpit steps and took Mr. Beecher's hand. Turning to the assembled multitude he said: "This little girl is a slave, and I have promised her owner 00, his price for her, or she will be returned to slavery. Pass the basket."

The ushers found their way through the vast audience. Although the church seated only a little more than two thousand, there must have been nearly three thousand present, and soon the collection was made. It appeared that the sum total was not far from fifteen hundred dollars. Many gave jewelry, diamonds, watches and chains. Her freedom was announced amid thunders of applause. This was not the only instance of a similar nature. Mr. Beecher was frequently condemned for even in form acknowledging the right of a slave owner to any remuneration for a slave, but if he thought a thing right to do, he did it without the least regard to what other people might say.

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