CHAPTER V
TWO PASTORATES
The Franklin Street {Congregational) Church, Manchester,
New Hampshire, 1867-75
The Madison Square {Presbyterian) Church, New York City,
1875-80
It had been my hope that I might begin my ministry in
some direct connection with the work of rehgious recon-
struction following upon the war. With this in view, I spent
several months in the service of the American Home Mis-
sionary Society, in investigating religious conditions in
southwestern Missouri and southeastern Kansas. The sit-
uation proved to be different from what I had hoped to
find. There was little chance for religious cooperation in
these parts while the work of political reconstruction was
going on. Sectional animosities were in danger of being in-
tensified rather than allayed by the incoming of new reli-
gious factors. The churches on the ground were struggling
to recover themselves, and looked upon the planting of
other churches as an intrusion. The denomiiiational spirit
which had been dormant was easily revived. In this cir-
cumstance it seemed impracticable to carry out any asso-
ciated movement, as some of us had intended on leaving
the Seminary. Individual openings were gradually found,
but no organized effort, of the significance of the pioneer
movements of the previous generation in the newer States
of the West, proved to be timely, or from the religious
point of view desirable. As an instance of the very suc-
cessful use of an individual opening, I note the career of
64 MY GENERATION
my classmate, James G. Merrill, who became a most in-
fluential factor in the religious development of the region.
Previous to undertaking this tour of investigation, I had
received and declined a call to the Franklin Street Church
of Manchester, New Hampshire. The call having been
renewed, after it was found that I did not propose to con-
tinue in this service, I returned to accept it. I was ordained
to the ministry on January 24, 1867, and at the same time
installed as pastor of the Franklin Street Church.
THE FRANKLIN STREET PASTORATE
The city of Manchester belonged to a group of young
manufacturing cities in the valley of the Merrimack, which
were the precursors of new forms of material development,
and of new types of social organization throughout New
England. It had grown from a village of less than a thou-
sand in 1836 to a population of over ten thousand in 1846,
at which time it was the largest town in New Hampshire,
and the first to be incorporated as a city. Twenty years
later its population had trebled. But the growth was in no
sense loose and unorganized. The underlying organization
was the Land and Water Power Company which con-
trolled the water-power at the Amoskeag Falls, and had
purchased sufficient adjacent land, not only for the uses of
the corporation, but also for the initial uses of the city.
Reservations were made for parks and public buildings.
Although the development of the city was planned, it was
not controlled, as in some more recent instances of cities
known as "corporation communities." The manufacturing
city of New England was a free city. The original, or in
some cases originating, corporation had no exclusive civic
rights. Most of these cities came to represent diversified
TWO PASTORATES 65
industries. The Manchester Locomotive Works were in
time as well known as the cotton mills. Each one of these
early manufacturing cities has continued to feel the initial
impulse, but in every case, so far as I know, the expansion
has been according to its own necessities or ambitions.
At this stage in its development, Manchester grew by the
natural inflow of population rather than by importation of
labor. The native population, still quite large in propor-
tion to the foreign, came in chiefly from the neighboring
towns, and from Massachusetts. The foreign population
was principally Irish, with an admixture of German and
French. The number of men representing the various
kinds of business and the professions was relatively large.
The situation was inviting to men of initiative. There was
the promise of prosperity on secure foundations. The city
had gained an established character while yet in the con-
structive and formative period. The city grew steadily and
healthily, and men went about their daily work under
stimulating conditions.
The spirit of the city was reflected in the character of the
churches and of the ministry. Of the two Congregational
churches, the Hanover Street, organized at the very outset,
had risen to immediate influence under the labors of the
Reverend Cyrus W. Wallace (whose ministry it was to
enjoy for forty years), ā a man of great moral force made
peculiarly effective by his native eloquence. The Franklin
Street had become equally influential through a succession
of pastorates held by men of varied ability ā Henry M.
Dexter, afterwards editor of the " Congregationalist " ;
Henry Steele Clarke, later of the Central Presbyterian
Church, Philadelphia; Samuel C. Bartlett, after his
pastorate and professorship in Chicago, President of Dart-
66 MY GENERATION
mouth College; and William H. Fenn, my immediate pre-
decessor, a man of brilliant parts in the pulpit and in soci-
ety, for many years afterwards pastor of the High Street
Church, Portland, Maine. The effect of this succession was
twofold. Each pastor drew to the church a certain number
of like-minded persons, a process which broadened its in-
tellectual life; and the comparatively frequent choice of
pastors, especially as they were for the most part young
men (three including myself were directly from the Semi-
nary), made the church in time self-reliant and discerning.
The educative power of the church over its ministers be-
came quite as marked as that of its ministers over the
church.^ I found its unconscious but real training more
valuable than a graduate course of study. There was an
utter absence of criticism, the whole attitude was sympa-
thetic, but I understood at once that much was expected.
The stimulus, though applied through attention, quick
appreciation, and hearty response, was none the less to be
interpreted as a stimulus.
1 In speaking at the Semi-Centennial of the Franklin Street Church ā Octo-
ber 9, 1894 ā I referred to this as a continuous characteristic of the church. "It
is one of the pecuHar distinctions of this church, as all of its pastors will testify,
that the church has educated its ministry as much as its ministry has educated
the church. The old proverb ā ' Like priest like people ' ā stands partially re-
versed in its history. With two notable exceptions ā I refer to Dr. Bartlett and
to Dr. Spalding ā the church has called into its service from 6rst to last untried
men, or men who were in the formative stage of their ministry." (At that time
the number was eleven.)
I took occasion also at this time to refer to the very happy circumstance of my
reception into the home of Dr. and Mrs. Josiah Crosby, where I remained till my
marriage two years later. " How shall I tell you of the generous home which was
opened to me at my coming, that of Dr. and Mrs. Josiah Crosby.^ What I would
that I might say to them is the assurance of my growing affection and esteem.
What 1 wish particularly to say to you of them is, that not a word was ever said
by either one touching any members of this congregation which they might not
have heard to their advantage." To which I might have added that in their per-
sonal lives, so calm and strong, so full of public spirit, so brave in sorrow, so clear
of mind in things temporal and spiritual, I found a daily interpretation of the
Christian faith.
TWO PASTORATES 67
I like to recall the influences which were at work in and
through this early pastorate, they were so determinative
and so far-reaching in their effect. It was there that I
learned that first and most imperative lesson of the pulpit
ā to respect one's audience; not to fear it, but to respect
it. I doubt if there is any habit from which it is so difficult
for a preacher to recover, or one in the end more fatal, than
the habit of dealing in unverified knowledge, of substitut-
ing the premature appeal for the compelling thought, of
underestimating the power of the deeper motives wdiich
underlie the spiritual nature. It was of peculiar advantage
to me that I began to preach to an audience of severe in-
tellectual demands, as I was endeavoring from the first
to train myself to the freedom of direct speech in the pulpit,
without the habitual use of manuscript or without reliance
upon verbal memory. I knew, of course, that the surrender
to spiritual feeling, that the spiritual abandon which the
truth in hand may call for, was unsafe and ineffective un-
less the preacher could assume the steady and reliable sup-
port of clear, terse, and truthful speech ā speech which
would not weaken and disperse his emotional power. But
no theory of preaching could have meant as much to me as
the aid which I received from the unconscious cooperation
of the audience. Whatever of freedom I may have gained
in the pulpit or on the platform, I owe to the patient and
sympathetic help of those in my first pastorate whose
insistence upon the realities of speech was not to be
misunderstood.
Among the most encouraging results of the Franklin
Street pastorate was an experiment carried out in the con-
structive study of the Bible. It had seemed to me that the
principle of utilizing a church to its full capacity, through
68 MY GENERATION
the careful organization of its benevolence and of its mis-
sion work, might be applied with even more advantage to
certain phases of its own inner life. I had felt that the re-
ceptive habit had been over-developed in the churches,
particularly in reference to the interpretation of the Scrip-
tures. "Lessons" and "Lesson Helps" had virtually sup-
planted the direct and original study of the Bible. To re-
cover this lost privilege of "searching the Scriptures," the
church was led to attempt the work of preparing its own
courses of study for the use of the Sunday School. As a
preliminary step, a course of lectures was given, running
for several months, in which I traced in detail the forma-
tion of the New Testament. The experiment awakened
great interest, and called forth earnest study on the part of
those who volunteered for the service. Two courses on Old
Testament subjects and two on "The Christ of the Gos-
pels," each occupying a year, were prepared and used.
The effect was remarkably cjuickening. The teachers'
meeting, held at the close of an early Sunday evening serv-
ice, was very largely attended by members of the congre-
gation and not infrequently by strangers, and the discus-
sions were often protracted. The Sunday School doubled
its membership, the increase coming chiefly from adults.
And as a final result, the spiritual effect upon the school
and the church was most significant. I quote the following
reminiscence from a letter of Judge Samuel Upton, then
superintendent of the school, to whom we were chiefly in-
debted for the success of the movement, recalling one of
the more impressive spiritual incidents connected with it.
The letter was written for the Semi-Centennial of the
Church. "Well do I remember," he wrote, "one pleasant
Sabbath day in the faH of 1874. A quiet stillness pervaded
TWO PASTORATES 69
the opening exercises, an earnest thoiightfulness marked
the study of the lesson. This was upon the parable of the
Great Supper, especially upon the excuses made for not
accepting the invitation. In the absence of the teacher, I
heard a class, composed of misses, many of them members
of the High School. In the discussion of the excuses, one of
them remarked that she thought them trivial and poor. It
was suggested that the invitation was to each one of them,
and the question was asked, How does your excuse compare
with those mentioned in the lesson? A moment was given
for consideration, and then one said that she feared her
excuse was no better. Another said the same; a third re-
plied, T make no excuse, I accept the invitation.' It was
the first fruit of a golden harvest ā the gathering into
the church during the year following of more than eighty
upon profession of faith ā almost all from the Sabbath
School."
Perhaps the most interesting feature of the development
of the church during this period w^as its social expansion,
or expansion in the direction of democracy. Like many
churches of intellectual and social standing in a community
it had acquired a reputation for exclusiveness. This repu-
tation entirely belied its spirit. All that was needed to over-
come it was some fit method of exercising its hospitality.
Fortunately the site and the structure of the church build-
ing suggested the method. The church was located on a
retired street adjacent to the City Hall and the City Li-
brary. It was passed by many operatives on the way to
and from their daily work. The women of the church read-
ily cooperated in a plan of making the parlors on the base-
ment floor available to the young women operatives for
their winter evenings. The parlors were fitted up for this
70 MY GENERATION
purpose, furnished with reading matter and with games,
put under the care of a trained worker, and made ^n all
possible ways attractive for individual improvement and
for social entertainment. This experiment in church hos-
pitality was greatly appreciated, and served its purpose
admirably till it developed into the Young Women's
Christian Association of the city.
The church building itself was a plain structure of the
type of the old Mount Vernon Street, Boston, and Kirk
Street, Lowell, modeled after Plymouth Church, Brooklyn.
The chief characteristic of the auditorium was the space
allotted to the galleries. When these were unoccupied, as
was the case at this time in the Franklin Street Church,
it gave to the whole interior an unsocial appearance. The
congregation filled the floor to repletion, but it halted at
the gallery stairs. Social values declined with the ascent.
At length it was agreed among several families who could
afford to make the change, to leave their pews below and
colonize the galleries. It was not long before their presence
removed the unsocial barrier, and insured more perfectly
than by any form of solicitation, a response to the hitherto
unaccepted hospitality of the house. The result was not
another separate congregation, but the expansion of one
homogeneous congregation.
The seven years of pastoral service in the Franklin Street
Church were to me years of absorbing and satisfying inter-
est. I had meanwhile no thought of or desire for service else-
where. I never preached as a candidate in any church, or
encouraged the solicitations of church committees, how-
ever persistent, to culminate in a formal call. In two or
three cases, calls were extended as a more formal way of
solicitation. One call came to me during the Franklin
TWO PASTORATES 71
Street pastorate ā from the Pilgrim Church in St. Louis
ā which in other circumstances would have greatly
moved me. It was a call from the general region where I
had hoped to begin my ministry; but as I had not found
it advisable to enter it as a home missionary, I felt that it
would be inconsistent to make my entrance into it as the
pastor of a city church.
The close of my pastorate at Manchester came about
naturally, and through the local situation. The growth of
the church had given rise to the question of enlargement
or of removal. I had advocated on general grounds, as well
as for local reasons, the policy of the strong church, strong
not only in resources, but in numbers. When I saw, how-
ever, that my advocacy was in danger of giving the move-
ment too much of a personal aspect, I decided that it was
best to withdraw altogether the personal element, and
allow the policy to work itself out in its own time upon its
own merits. Three years later the policy was adopted and
carried out, insuring the stability and adequate effective-
ness of the church. In the meantime, the Madison Square
Church of New York made renew^ed overtures to me lead-
ing to a call to the pastorate, which after several con-
ferences, though without previously occupying the pulpit,
I accepted, and was installed as pastor of that church on
the 12th of May, 1875.
THE MADISON SQUARE PASTORATE
In looking over such correspondence as has chanced to
remain regarding the removal to New York, I found a
letter from Dr. Manning, of the Old South Church, Bos-
ton, remonstrating in right brotherly fashion against my
leaving New England. There were other letters of the
72 MY GENERATION
same purport, but as there were no determining questions
of duty apart from the circumstances attending the call,
I decided upon a change of environment. It seemed to
me that the traditions of one's religious training should
not be allowed to fix the limits of his possible service;
rather that as occasion might demand he should come
to know, and take a part, in the broader religious life of
the country. The denominational change involved in the
present instance was of little account. New England Con-
gregationalism had its affiliations with that branch of
Presbyterianism of which the Madison Square Church
was the chief representative in New York City. The dif-
ference in polity was hardly discernible in the practical
working of church life. The real change was in the reli-
gious atmosphere. The New York of that day was less
theological, but more religious than Boston. Mr. William
E. Dodge, Jr., who was an intimate friend of Dr. Duryea
during his pastorate in New York and Brooklyn, remarked
after hearing him in his later pastorate at the Central
Church, Boston, "Duryea is a great preacher, but Boston
is making him confoundedly metaphysical." Church at-
tendance and church observances were more in evidence in
New York. Family religion was held in more scrupulous
regard. On the other hand, there was less of what may be
termed the "intellectual appropriation" of religion. Indi-
vidual doubt or questioning was more rare. Religion was
conformity, obedience, service. This last characteristic was
as genuine as the others and was exemplified in many ways.
Every church had its mission, and the general philan-
thropic work of the churches was carefully organized and
generously supported. One of the most touching incidents
in my pastoral visitation was my visit to an old gentleman
TWO PASTORATES 73
of fourscore, upon the occasion of the death of his wife of
about the same age. They had been of one mind and pur-
pose in their Hves. Probably no one in the city had given
or raised more money for the rehef of the more acute forms
of suffering than my aged friend. After a Httle he took me
into the room where his wife lay. Uncovering her face, he
talked of their common life as only the voice of age and
love could speak. Suddenly he paused, and took a letter
from his pocket ā "There," said he, "is my check from
Mrs. Stewart for my woman's hospital." Then resuming
the conversation as if there had been no interruption ā
there really had been none ā he re-covered the face of his
dead, and withdrew to take up again his now solitary but
still joyous work.
During the decade from 1870-80, the pulpit of New
York had begun to assume an unwonted character, through
the importation into several of the prominent pulpits of
preachers from abroad ā Dr. John Hall, from Dublin,
to the Fifth Avenue Presbyterian Church; Dr. Llewelyn
D. Bevan, from London, to the Brick Church; Dr. William
M. Taylor, from Liverpool, to the Broadway Tabernacle;
and Dr. William Ormiston, from Canada, to the Collegiate
Church on Twenty-ninth Street. Among the well-known
preachers native to the city or to New England were Dr.
Morgan Dix, of Trinity Church; Dr. Potter (afterwards
Bishop), of Grace Church; Dr. Henry W. Bellows, of All
Souls (Unitarian) Church, near Union Square; Dr. Howard
Crosby on Fourth Avenue, and Dr. William Adams at
Madison Square. The unhappy contention between the
two great pulpit orators, Henry Ward Beecher and Richard
S. Storrs, had greatly weakened the influence of the pul-
pit in the neighboring city. Union Theological Seminary
74 MY GENERATION
was the intellectual stronghold of the more advanced Pres-
byterianism of the city, under the direction of Professors
Henry B. Smith, Roswell D. Hitchcock, Philip Schaff,
George L. Prentiss, and William G. T. Shedd. Not less
was the moral strength and executive ability of the Presby-
terian churches exemplified in such laymen as William E.
Dodge, father and son; George W. Lane and John Taylor
Johnston, John Crosby Brown and D. Willis James.
The Madison Square Church, after the usual method of
church colonization in New York, was organized out of a
downtown church ā the Central Presbyterian Church on
Broome Street. This was in 1853, and at the close of the
following year it was able to occupy its house of worship
on Madison Square. The growth was immediate and rapid,
due to two causes ā the leadership and ministry of Dr.
William Adams, and its location. Dr. Adams was a man
altogether of New England antecedents, the son of John
Adams, the third principal of Phillips Academy, Andover,
a graduate of Yale, and of Andover Theological Seminary.
His first pastorate was at Brighton, Massachusetts. For
seventeen years he had been the pastor of the church on
Broome Street, taking with him as the chief asset for the
new church the reputation, confidence, and affection which
he had there gained. He had beyond almost any minister
I have known, the ideal qualifications for the ordinary city
pastorate, the pastorate of the family church. He was a
man of such personal presence as never to require a gown
in the pulpit, of kindling and persuasive speech, sincere
and unaffected in manner, a man of the domestic affec-
tions, but equally of high public spirit, moving men in
public and winning them in private by the power of his
personality. It was fit that the Madison Square Church
MADISON SQUARE CHURCH IN THE SEVENTIES
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TWO PASTORATES 75
should have become known with almost equal recognition
as Dr. Adams's church. And yet, as I have said, the church
owed much to its location. Its site on the east side of
Madison Square, where the tower of the Metropolitan
Building now stands, was as adequate and as timely for a
church as the site directly across the park, where the "Fifth
Avenue" held its long supremacy, was for a hotel. Both
caught and held for a time in their respective ways the
social tide as it swept over Twenty-third Street toward the
north. Madison Square became at once one of the acces-
sible religious centers, which was to be repeated later on
upper Fifth Avenue and later still on the west side of the
Park. The constituency of the church ran from Gramercy
Park and West Twentieth Street up Fifth and Madison
Avenues, and along the adjoining streets as far as Forty-
second Street, and gradually up to Central Park. For this
choice of its location, as for the subsequent management
of its business affairs, the church was indebted to George
W. Lane, for many years Comptroller of the city, and from
the first a trustee of the church, a man as well known and
trusted for his sagacity as for his integrity.
I recall with much distinctness and even vividness my
first Sunday in the Madison Square pulpit. I had never
seen the congregation and few had seen me. It was a day
of first impressions for minister and people. As I faced
the audience which thronged the church, I found myself
steadied and quickened by the sensitive and apparently
eager response to my message. There were faces in that
unknown congregation which made an immediate and
lasting impress upon my mind. I preached from the text,
"God is not the God of the dead, but of the living," ā
the conception of God as more vitally concerned with
;6 MY GENERATION
human life as it crew more absorbing and controlling,
with human interests as they multiplied and increased,
with our individual lives as they became capable of greater
responsibilities, or became weakened and demoralized
under the strain of our environment. It was a message to
the modern man asking where and how he might find God
ā not at first and chiefly in the past, but in the present,
not among the dead, but among the living. Whatever other
effects the message may have produced. I was made con-
scious of this verdict, which was to me the most to be