New Haven, Connecticut
Addresses at the One Hundredth Anniversary

JPthe '
ONE HUS^REDTH ANNIVERSARY
jOF;THE;
DEDICATION OF THE -.HMsM OF WORSHIP
OF THE UNlFED CHURCH
NEW HAVEN, dOlJlJECTICirr,

WILLIAM CHESTER DICKINSON

1815-1915

EXERCISES COMMEMORATING THE
ONE HUNDREDTH ANNIVERSARY
OF THE
DEDICATION OF THE HOUSE OF WORSHIP
OF
THE UNITED CHURCH
NEW HAVEN, CONNECTICUT

SUNDAY, JANUARY 16, 1916

THE TUTTLE, MOREHOUSE & TAYLOR PRESS.

HISTORICAL ADDRESS
THE UNITED CHURCH, 1815-1915
By Simeon E. Baldwin.
Delivered Sunday morning, January 16, 1916.
On Wednesday, December 20, 1815, this building, then
first opened for use, was dedicated to the worship of God.
Its first century therefore closed last month.
The pastor in 1815 was the Rev. Samuel Merwin, and
he gave, as part of the dedication exercises, a sermon on
this fitly chosen text:
"The glory of this latter house shall be greater than of
the former, saith the Lord of Hosts : and in this place will
I give peace, saith the Lord of Hosts." (Haggai, 2, 9.)
Until its construction was begun the congregation had
occupied two separate edifices. One, erected by the Fair
Haven Society in 1770, stood very nearly upon this site. The
other, erected by the White Haven Society in 1744, and
commonly called, from the color of its paint, the Blue
meeting house, stood on the southeast corner of • Church
and Elm streets. Originally it fronted on Elm street; but
in 1764, by a considerable addition and a steeple, was made
to face Church street. A section of the pulpit hand rail,
rescued from destruction, some years since, by one of our
congregation, and now in the parish house, confirms a local
tradition that the color was more of a gray than of a blue.*
* Barber, History and Antiquities of New Haven, 25.

The United Church, it will be recollected, is a union of
what once were three- independent church organizations.
The eldest of them was the White Haven Church, formed
in 1742. The second was the Fair Haven Church, formed
by a secession from the White Haven Church in 1769. The
third was that known as the Third Congregational Church,
formed in 1826, which from 1856 to 1884 occupied a hand
some stone edifice, on what is now the site of the Second
National Bank Building.
The White Haven and Fair Haven churches were united
in 1796, and the Third Church joined them in 1884.
From 1796 to 1812, the church held its public services in
each of its two meeting houses every other month.*
Early in 1813 the ecclesiastical society of the First Church
pulled down their church edifice for the purpose of erect
ing a better one. The new Center church was finished in
1814. While it was in process of erection, the First
society were granted permission to share with us the use of
the Blue meeting house, and four services were thus held
in it every Sunday. Those for this church were held at
nine in the morning and one in the afternoon: those for
the First Church at eleven in the morning and three in the
afternoon. The Blue meeting house was fitted up with square pews,
except that, immediately fronting the pulpit, were two
oblong pews set apart, in accordance with the ancient prac
tice of the colony, for the use of those of the congregation
who were thought entitled to the most social consideration.f
Each of the square pews was topped by a railing about six
inches high, supported by small turned pillars set three
inches apart.J
* Barber, History and Antiquities of New Haven, 25.
t Merwin, Semi-Centennial Anniversary Discourse, 22.
t Barber, History and Antiquities of New Haven, 25.

Both the two churches, owned by the "United Societies
of White Haven and Fair Haven," became, early in the
nineteenth century, out of repair, and it was increasingly
felt to be a waste of capital to maintain both for the use
of a single society.
It was therefore determined, in 1812, to erect, in the
language of the then pastor, Rev. Samuel Merwin, "a
new house of worship, on a scale to meet the demands of
the times." Twenty members of the society were found to
undertake this work. They were to build a brick church on
the Green, on or near the site of the Fair Haven Church, of
such dimensions and structure as should be satisfactory to
a special building committee. An eighth of the pews should
be reserved for the society. Seven-eighths should be sold
to meet the cost of construction, with interest. If they
sold for more than was so required, the balance should
belong to the Society : if for less, the Society would re-im-
burse the contractors for the deficiency. The two old
church buildings and the site of the White Haven church
were to belong to the contractors, as a compensation for
their making over to the Society an eighth of the pews.
If the Society preferred not to receive that form of
compensation, it was to receive pews to the value of $2,500.
One of the twenty contractors was Ebenezer Johnson,
Junior, who afterwards (May 4, 1817) became a member
of the church. He was a man of taste in architecture, and
sketched out the general plan of the new building, par
ticularly that of its interior.
David Hoadley, who was both an architect and builder,
took the contract for the erection of the church and, pro
ceeding on the lines indicated by Mr. Johnson, gave it its
final form. He afterwards removed to Waterbury and
was, from time to time, the architect of several important
buildings. All the details of our steeple were probably

his creation. On the completion of his work, the United
Society recognized the value of his services by an appro
priate vote of thanks, and a memorial tablet in his honor
has now been placed in the vestibule of the church, — the
gift of Mr. George Dudley Seymour.*
The United Church is generally considered one of the
best examples of the American ecclesiastical architecture
of the early years of the nineteenth century. It has been
closely followed in constructing the First church in Dan-
bury, and our pastor recently received a letter from a West
ern church committee asking for plans or a photograph of
it, and stating that they were advised that it was the best
model in existence of the New England Congregational
church of that era.
The colonial church, strictly so-called, did not attempt to
combine the pillars of a Greek temple with the steeple or
belfry characterizing the London parish churches of Sir
Christopher Wren. That mode of construction has some
times been sneeringly called the Greco-Baptist order of
architecture; but when carried out with the taste which
*The full text of the commendatory resolutions of the Society,
passed November 29, 1815, upon the completion of the church, is as
follows :
"Voted, that the thanks of this Society be presented to the con
tractors for erecting the new house of Public Worship for this
Society, for their distinguished liberality in assuming upon them
selves the responsibility of so great an undertaking, for the appro
priate taste they have displayed, and the unwearied care and atten
tion they have bestowed in planning and superintending the erection
of said House, and for the elegant and finished style, in which,
under their direction it has been completed.
"Voted, that David Hoadley the Architect employed in the erec
tion of said House, merits the approbation of this Society for the
substantial, elegant and workmanlike manner in which he has per
formed his contract, and that he be recommended to the Public
for his skill and fidelity in his profession."

characterized the work of David Hoadley and Ithiel Town
upon this Green, the general effect is stately and imposing.
The original cost of this church was a little under $33,000.
The contractors sold their pews for enough to pay off
this sum and leave a surplus of about $5,500, which was
turned over to the Society and invested for its support. It
also received its eighth of the pews.
The Center church, finished the year before, cost a
thousand dollars more, and Trinity church, also finished in
1815, $28,000.
The lumber used by the United Society was bought in
Middletown, and although the War of 1812 was then rag
ing, was brought here by water, through the courtesy of
Commodore Hardy, then commanding the British blockad
ing squadron on our coast, who, when his permission was
asked, replied that he made no war with religion.
The church originally had three glass chandeliers of
French make, hung over the main aisle. The central, and
larger one, still remains: the others were sold in 1850.
At that time the apse, with its handsome pilasters, was
added, and the present rosewood pulpit placed in it. The
original pulpit was a high one, of mahogany, supported
on fluted columns, and stood in front of what is now the
apse. It was furnished with red cushions, as was the
present one, until a few years since. The origmal color
was partly dictated by necessity. The war had shut off
importations from Europe, and no materials suitable for
the upholstery of the pulpit were to be had. Eleazer Foster,
a member of the New Haven County bar, and one of the
committee in charge, was a descendant of General Newell
of Massachusetts, whose wife had been obliged to prepare
her wedding dress under similar circumstances, during the
Revolutionary war. She had to use red silk curtain damask
for its material. The dress had been preserved in the

family at Sturbridge, and Mr. and Mrs. Foster drove up
there in a chaise, secured the skirt, and on their return it
was used for the pulpit cushions and fringes.* A similar
trip was made to Boston by Mr. and Mrs. Ebenezer John
son, Jr., to procure the covering for the red pew cushions.
Neither the Fair Haven nor the White Haven churches
had had chimneys, and there was, of course, no means
of heating them. Small, square-shaped foot-stoves, car
ried by a handle, were brought in on Sundays, for the bene
fit of some of the women, particularly those who were
elderly or feeble. Some of those coming from such a dis
tance that they could not conveniently go home during the
"intermission" between the morning and afternoon serv
ices, clubbed together to provide little cabins on or near
the Green, where they could go for lunch and warm them
selves by a fire. These were called Sabbath Day houses.
One upon the Green, opposite the site of the Public Library,
is shown on a map of New Haven made in 1753, and
another was standing on Elm street, a little distance east
of the Blue meeting house, until about 1850.
Our new church was, from the first, provided with a
chimney, but no stoves were put in or fires built until 1827.
Nor was the change carried through without strong oppo
sition. It was thought that the heat would be intolerable.
One lady, indeed, tradition says, on the first Sunday after
the. vote to introduce stoves, felt so overcome by the new
kind of warmth that she was carried out of church in a
fainting condition. In fact, however, though the stoves
had been purchased, they had not been connected with the
chimney, and no fire had been kindled in them.f
?Champion, History of the United Church, 20. A section of one
of the pulpit pillars is now used to support the baptismal font, and
a piece of its damask trimmings is preserved in the parish house.
t Barber, History and Antiquities of New Haven, 59.

Until that year no anthracite coal had ever been sold
in New Haven ; the Tontine Hotel being the first building
in which it was used.*
The bell of the Blue meeting house was sold, and now
hangs in the belfry of the Episcopal church in Cheshire.f
That of the Third Church has been used by the United
Church since their union. That which then hung in this
church is now in the German church on George street.
In my boyhood, it used to be said that every Sunday
morning the bell of Trinity church, which was then a light
one, rang out "Bishops, Priests, and Deacons" ; that of
the Center Church, which was then the heaviest in town,
"To-tal De-pravity"; and that of the United Church, "I'm
as good as you are."
In 1850 gas was introduced, the church for the first time
painted on the outside, and the galleries slightly lowered,
at a total expense of $10,000.$ In 1887, they were low
ered still further. That part occupied by the organ and
choir has also been brought forward, to secure more room.
What now was the state of the religious world into which,
in 1815, the United Church was to enter, in its new edifice?
The old Calvinistic theology was generally still main
tained in the Connecticut churches. It was, however, main
tained without the bitterness of feeling which at that
period had divided those of Massachusetts. The mental
habit of Connecticut has always been one of moderation.
The creeds of our churches were interpreted with a view
to intellectual tolerance.
They certainly needed it. That inherited from the First
Church, under which our organization as a separate church
* Pardee, Historical Sketch of the United Society, 47.
t Papers New Haven Colony Historical Society, I, 113; V, 177.
X Barber, History and Antiquities of New Haven, 26.

commenced in 1742, followed strictly in the lines of the
Augustinian theology. Let us look at a few of its state
ments. Adam stood as the public head and representative
for the human race, and in his fall we all became sinners, lost
the image of God and exposed ourselves to the pains of hell
forever. Man was totally corrupted. There is a resurrec
tion of the body, at the judgment day, when the wicked
will be condemned to everlasting fire, prepared for the
devil and his angels.
In 1796, when the White Haven and Fair Haven churches
came together, this ancient creed was very much softened
and abridged, and after several repetitions of this process,
from time to time, was finally abandoned in 1902, since
when we have contented ourselves with the simple Consti
tution adopted in 1796, which is burdened by no weight
of metaphysical definitions.
As one looks back on Connecticut in the eighteenth cen
tury, he cannot but be amazed at the domination of theology
over religion, and of an established church over all not
within its fold. So late as 1705, it was forbidden by law
to give any unnecessary entertainment to any Quaker,
Ranter, Adamite or other notorious heretic, or even
"unnecessarily to fall into discourse" with them. The
statute to this effect was, however, in that year, disapproved
by Queen Anne, on the recommendation of the Lords of
Trade and Plantations.*
By another law, of earlier date, which was in force when
we commenced to worship in this house, it was a criminal
offense for anyone educated in the Christian religion, to
deny its truth, or the being of a God, or the doctrine of
the trinity, or the divine authority of the scriptures.
The statute to this effect, however, never was enforced
from its first enactment in 1750 to its abrogation at about
* Judicial History of Connecticut, 53.

the time when the present Constitution of the State was
adopted in 1818.*
It does not seem to one who compares the practical mor
ality and personal character of the Christian men and
women of New England to-day with that of those of ear
lier centuries, that any declension of piety has followed the
declension of theology.
Could the first immigrants — the race of the Pilgrim
Fathers — have really believed that the aborigines, whom
they found here, were so involved in the guilt of Adam's
fall that a righteous God could justly condemn them, soul
and body, to everlasting torments? If they did, why did
not they address themselves earlier, with all the power they
could command, to impress on the minds of their Indian
neighbors the awful danger that lay ahead of them?
The Indians themselves did not fail to notice this. In
an early work on American institutions, by an Italian liv
ing in Virginia, is found this significant passage:
"The inhabitants of New England did not begin to talk
of religion to the savages till 1650, the care of their own
affairs having occupied them more than the safety of the
souls of the savages. When they then discoursed to them
of eternal damnation and the impossibility of salvation
without baptism, the savages asked them how they could
have been twenty-six years without speaking of this, if
the thing was of so great importance. The excuses given
were feeble, and contributed not a little to give the Indi
ans an unfavorable idea of the missionaries and the
mission."-)" For a long period in the history of Connecticut, the
instruction of the young was largely committed to ecclesi-
* Judicial History of Connecticut, 55; Statutes of Conn., Ed.
1810, 295.
tMazzei, Recherches Hist, et Politiques, sur les Etats-Unis,
in, 166.

astical societies, just as in England the primary schools
were parochial and fell under the direction of the parish
authorities. These societies were authorized to make such
a charge against the parents of the scholars as would raise
half the expense thus incurred.
This duty was transferred to school societies in 1798,
but we had, in 1815, and long before, a "Female Chari
table Society" in this church, each member paying at least
a cent a week, which supported a charity school for poor
girls. The United Society also had joined with the First Society,
for a number of years, in maintaining a school for colored
children.* The early colonists were wont to rise and stand when the
bible lesson was read, or the text announced, and during
prayer. That attitude was deemed the most reverential, and
to kneel would have been regarded also as a concession to
prelacy. Down to 1815 and later, if there were two min
isters in the pulpit, the one who did not preach the sermon
rose thus when the text was read.
The custom of standing during prayer was maintained by
a few, and steadily decreasing number, of the men of the
congregation down to 1882. There were then but two who
followed the ancient usage. One died, and the other did
not care to maintain it alone.
The New Haven of 1815 was but a small place. The
population was about 7,500. Besides the three churches on
the Green, there was only that of the College, and the first
Methodist church, which was situated on Temple street,
near Crown.
The Congregational churches belonged to the general
religious establishment of the State. Until 1715, only a
hundred years before, when there was but one in this town,
* Dwight, Statistical Account of New Haven, 57.

its records were part of the records of the town. In 1815 the
Congregational churches everywhere may be said to have.
been the only ones officially recognized. The annual Con
necticut Register for that year, compiled with the aid of
the Secretary of the State, mentioned no churches that were
not Congregational.
The first steamboat connection with New York was set
up in this year. The trial trip was made on March 21, by
the steamship Fulton, and the line was fully established in
May. It had been deemed doubtful if a steamer could make
the voyage safely through the Sound. The fare was $5.*
No daily newspaper was published.
Hardly any buildings had been erected West of York
street or North of Grove street. East of State street was
what was called the New Township. The buildings in this
were then mainly along the water front. Wooster Square
was not laid out till 1825. There was no public library, and
was to be none for many years. Private societies existed
for the purchase of books for the benefit of their members.
These were the Mechanic's Library and the Social Library,
together having a collection of 1300 volumes. By the con
stitution of the Social Library, no "Novel, Play, or Tale"
could be bought except by a three-fourths vote of the
members present.f
Mr. Merwin was settled as our minister in 1805, at a
salary of $700, then the largest, with one exception, paid
in the State.J In 1815, when this building was completed,
it was made $1,000, which was, up to that time, the salary
of the Chief Justice of the State.
We had an endowment fund, in 181 1, of $4,682, and it
was more than doubled by the sale of pews, as already
* Barber, History and Antiquities of New Haven, 47, 171.
t Dwight, Statistical Account of New Haven, 56.
t Merwin, Semi-Centennial Discourse, 68.

mentioned. A new bank was soon afterwards established —
the Eagle Bank — and the funds were mostly invested in its
stock. In 1825 it failed, and the money was mainly lost.
During his pastorate, Dr. Munger started the plan of an
endowment fund, supported by annual contributions, and
it now amounts to about $27,000. Other funds, mostly
received by bequests, bring the total society and church
funds now to the sum of over $56,000.
The Third Church, a handsome structure of stone, of the
Norman style of architecture, cost $33,000, and the lot
$16,000. It was sold at auction in 1886, after the union, for
$45,100, and what remained, after paying all liabilities of
the Third Society, went towards improvements of our church
chapel on Temple street, acquired in 1877 at a cost of about
$19,000. An organ was put into the church in 1818, and replaced
by a better one in 1850, and by one better still in 1867, this
last costing about $7,000.
So closes the history of a hundred years of public service
in this house of God.
A few weeks since a great assembly of Congregationalists
met on this Green. It bore a name unknown to the Con
gregationalists of a hundred years ago. Congregationalism
was then, though shorn of most of its governmental
privileges, still the established religion of Connecticut.
When this building was put up, Congregationalism was
hardly known out of New England. Now the National
Council of the Congregational Churches of the United
States stands for a denomination spreading over every sec
tion of our common country. Better still, it stands for a
freedom of faith unknown to the Church in the United
Society of 1815 ; well known and well prized by that church
now.

"Praise be to God that on this ground,
To public use so early set,
And set by men who kings uncrowned,
The King of Kings is worshipped yet.
Praise be to God that in this place
From age to age His house has stood,
A daily witness to the grace
That turns all evil into good.
Praise be to God that we, who here
United meet, can still maintain
The faith our fathers held so dear,
The freedom they gave all to gain.
Praise be to God, their prayer was heard;
The greater light they looked to see
Yet break forth from His holy Word
Has come, to make that faith more free."

THEODORE THORNTON MUNGER, D.D.
Pastor, 1885-1900
By Robert C. Denison.
Delivered Sunday evening, January 16, 1916.
The real history of a church building cannot be written.
It lies in the realm of the spirit. If the wood and brick of
this structure could have absorbed all the spiritual experi
ences that have happened within its walls and then could
speak them, its voice would be more rich and thrilling than
a violin's. The builders of the great cathedrals aimed to use art
to help men worship. The light softened by stained glass,
the upward sweep of great columns into mysterious shad
ows, the voices of the organ whispering among lofty
arches touch the soul with a sense of the presence of God.
The Puritan Church architect had an entirely different
idea. He aimed to make a building in which art was
reduced to its simplest terms and a clear way left for the
spirit. The worshipper in a Puritan Church must take
hold of God by the motion of his own soul. The only
helps he has are the reverence of his fellow-worshippers,
the hymns of the ages and the preacher's presentation of
the truth.
Dr. Munger entered into the spirit of this building. He
would have its windows kept of uncolored glass. The souls
of those who worshipped here were to meet God in the
plain light of truth. The tablets on its walls were to speak
of men and women whose deeds of service would stir others
to service. He would have all who gathered here join in
the congregational singing, for he believed in the power of

united song to lift the soul. And, above all, all his life as
a preacher shows how profoundly he felt and how con
scientiously he followed the idea that in a Puritan Church
the pulpit must sound a clear, commanding and winning
note. .Perhaps fifteen hours' real work, says Mrs. Munger,
was used in the preparation of each sermon. And back of
the work on the particular sermon lay the deeper prepara
tion, the brooding on high thoughts, the life-long fidelity to
truth, the communion with Christ which were the self-
discipline of the preacher who craved to be and, for fifteen
years from this pulpit, was the speaking voice of the spirit.
He was not one of the preachers, of whom to-day there
are many, who must answer God, "While thy servant was
busy here and there the spirit was gone."
If I, who did not know him in the days of his vigor,
judge correctly from his printed sermons and from his
impress on you who did know him, much of his power lay
in the richness of his humanity. He loved nature and music.
He had a deep joy in life and a genius for friendship. He
knew how to give his best thoughts and feelings to those
about him. He had the scientist's passion for truth and
sought truth not merely that he might know it, but that he
might obey it. He was a free and honest thinker and a
fearless follower of the light. He sought and weighed
carefully the best thoughts of others. To him, as to Brown
ing, all the earth was full of the good purpose and power of
God. To be faithful was the great desire and discipline of
his soul. He was an expert in the life of Christian culture
and character. So nothing human was alien to him, from
the simple laws of daily conduct to the highest hopes and
bravest adventures of the soul. Out of the richness of his
humanity he brought forth things new and old, and, like
God's righteous servant in Israel, by his knowledge he made
many righteous.

More than one man and woman of this church has said
to me "Dr. Munger saved my religion for me." He did
this by preaching a religion that rang true to human experi
ence. A man could accept it and keep his mental integrity.
Theology has often lagged behind the average intelligence
of the race and sometimes behind the average conscience
of the race. Then God sends us free and brave spirits
who clear away the underbrush of narrow premises, of hard
logic and formal doctrines and give us an open field of
real thought where religion can grow and bear fruit. Dr.
Munger was one of this noble army of humanizers. Every
sermon is rational. It does not strain but satisfies our
powers of belief. Religion is the truest understanding and
the highest use of life. God's will for us is given in the
scientific laws of life and in the Christ who is eternal life.
Obedience is life's success.
Though he himself did not so rank it, perhaps Dr.
Munger's most permanent book is his "On the Threshold."
I think it is still the best young man's book in the English
tongue. It is as simple and wholesome, it is as natural and
elemental a food as a loaf of bread. Among all the paths
that invite youth, it points the true way as plainly as a com
pass. It is a guide book to heaven because it is a guide
book to right living. It reveals the fundamentals of true
character. When we follow the preacher beyond these
counsels of practical religion given to youth into themes as
high as the immortal hope and as deep as sorrow we find
the same closeness to human experience. Like Christ him
self he appeals to those instinctive and everyday truths which
the finger of God has planted deep in our human hearts.
You men and women do not like to lose things. If you lose
a piece of money you hunt for it. If one of your sheep
goes astray you go after it. If your son wanders into the
far country of evil living you long to have him come back.
The love of God is not different from the love of man. It

is in our spirits, not our bodies, that we are made in his
image. The universe is a unit. God does not like to lose
things any more than you do. The shepherd seeking his
lost sheep is God seeking a lost world. This in barest
form is the preacher's human statement of the love of God
and his salvation. So all the great issues of life and thought
are painted in the clear colors of human experience.
But beyond this, Dr. Munger was a prophet and preacher
to the deepest and highest in the human soul. What is it
to be human? The artist and the poet often, and the
scientist more often, see humanity merely as the child
of nature needing only to obey nature's laws for our salva
tion. The prophet sees the human as the child of God,
hungering and thirsting after God and only satisfied when
we have touched his right hand in the darkness and are
lifted up and strengthened. Dr. Munger's mental and
spiritual quest were for reality. But what is real? Is not
our longing for God the most real thing about us? He
loved Augustine's word, "Thou hast made us for thyself
and our hearts are restless until they rest in Thee." That
rest in God he had found for himself. He moved as a son
in his father's house. He found in Christ God's light,
shining to show the meaning and the promise of life and
God's love, giving of himself, even in suffering, to redeem
the world. He walked humbly and faithfully with God
and God gave him the sure and joyous vision of His own
wisdom and goodness, working in world-wide, age-long
evolution to bring his holy purposes to pass. God was to
him, and became to those who heard him, a real Presence,
the reason, the joy and the strength of human life and the
pledge of immortality.
There is one phase of Dr. Munger's humanity to which
I must give a word. He had faith in the best in men. He
knew that men could think, that they ought to think, and
every sermon presumes that they will think. His own soul

moved in the high altitudes of lofty thinking. The atmos
phere of the man and the sermon was of the things that
are pure and true and lovely and of good report. He em
bodied the dignity of religion. There is a cold dignity
that repels us and a genuine dignity that elevates us. Simple
and clear, joyous and human he would be, undignified he
could not be. There are no attempts to entertain. He would
not use slang to catch the ear. There are no appeals to the
cheap or the transient in men. He had faith in humanity's
response to the best. So the enthusiasms that he created
were not of the bubbling kind. They were the enthusiasms
of the soul. His message was not a wind that rippled the
surface, but a plumb line that touched the deeps. He did
not awaken a merely speculative or passing interest in
religion. There are many men and women in this church
in whose lives he laid an abiding foundation of conviction
and faithful living. Dr. Munger's ministry rendered one
service the church sometimes neglects. We talk much of
the church's obligation to the thoughtless, the ignorant, the
backward. We often make too little of the church's duty
to the educated, the cultured, the thoughtful. We are
inclined to blame them more than to understand them and
sympathize with them., Dr. Munger appealed to these people,
not because he was a class preacher, for he was not, but
because he knew the world of thought and spoke with dig
nity to those deep and high, human and divine realities in
which all our souls find their light and their life. There is
a common ground for the lowly who are content with simple
truth and the adventurous thinkers who question all things
until they rest in the simple truth, and blessed is the preacher
who can find it.
Dr. Munger's last sermon from this pulpit was on the
church's service. He foresaw that the church's hold upon
the world must depend on its serving the world. That is

to-day the most prominent truth in the church. In the
older days men found the inspiration to religion in the
longing to save their own souls. That inspiration has
lost its power. What shall take its place ? With prophetic
vision Dr. Munger saw that what would inspire men in the
future would be to join hands and work with God to make
human life free and happy and holy. He was a true
prophet. Many a man and woman to-day, who can find little
inspiration in the idea of saving their own souls, have found
a new religion in serving. Dr. Munger wrote eloquently
of the tower of this church building. Its four round win
dows typify the world. They look out, north, south, east
and west over all life. They call all those who gather here
to remember that the duty and the joy of the Christian and
of the Christian church lie in the work they can do to make
the world better. But that last sermon on the municipal
church, which still moves mightily in the minds of many of
you, can only be rightly understood in the light of the whole
spirit of him who spoke it. The highest service comes ever
out of the deepest living. It is not enough to want to serve
and try to serve. We must be equipped to serve.
New issues are before us to-day. Social salvation is the
watchword of our time. New methods must be used. But
the secrets of wisdom and strength remain the same. In all
its efforts to follow the call of that sermon and to serve
in the large and difficult future, may this church and the
church universal hold fast that to which this preacher's life
witnessed. Obedience to law, fidelity to duty, are the main
springs of character. Faith in the good, the progressive
and the ever-present purpose of the Eternal are the soul's
corner-stone and joy. Love of all humanity and the giving
of our best to individuals are the heart of all social methods.
Out of this abundance and elevation of the soul comes the
real greatness of service.

ARTEMAS JEAN HAYNES
Pastor, 1901-1908
By Lewis S. Welch.
Delivered Sunday evening, January 16, 1916.
On a Sunday afternoon in September, 1908, there was
given from this pulpit, by way of memorial tribute, an
address on the life and services of Artemas Jean Haynes,
who, a few weeks before, had been taken with a tragic
suddenness from his church, his city, his times, and his
friends. If time made it possible, I would prefer, in
lieu of any other service on my part, to read to you this
classic among memorial tributes. How widely it is cir
culated among those who were of his people and of his
co-workers in all good causes, and of the great company of
his friends, I do not know; but I do know that it cannot
be as generally possessed as its quality and its value, from
many an angle of human interest, would indicate as natural
and desirable. On this occasion, perhaps I can do nothing
better than to make a plea that the Haynes Memorial
Address by Professor Emery should be put in permanent
form; that it be always among the available records and
assets of the United Church, and that it be placed within
the reach of those who were so blessed as to know, in some
relation, the subject thereof, and also within the reach of a
larger company of men and women, seeking for light on
the theme of themes.
With such record should also be included at least a few
of those sermons and addresses which sound the strong
notes and give the bright light of Mr. Haynes's message to
his people and his time. I know it may be said, and that

too, by those who were closest to him, that all of his
theology and his philosophy of life, — strong, clear, inspira
tional as it was — was yet in the making ; was still rounding
into the form of its maturity; and that he himself saw, as
clearly as any critic could see, certain processes yet to be
completed — certain far journeys yet to be taken, before he
could say that he had gathered, ready for an offering on
the altar of the thought and faith of the day, his full com
plement of contribution. I know that to be true. I know
also that those who might read such a volume would not
think chiefly of what it did not say, but would take into
their minds and into their very souls, those gifts which it
brought, in the full richness of an undismayed faith, in
the clearness of vision which unspoiled youth often only
gives. It is my hope some day, somehow, this work may
be done ; these values offered to those who would take them ;
this well earned increment, in the real assets of the United
Church, cast into enduring form. Such a volume should
at least contain the "Call of the Greeks," the "Gift of
the Morning Star" and the "Religion of a Fisherman."
Clearly enough, the few moments of this evening given to
this part of the services, are sufficient only to try to bring
back something of the memory of the man himself. The
portrait that should hang in the literary halls of history of
this Church, has been painted ; the estimate has been made ;
the high word has been spoken. But, if you and I can
but think back and talk things over, this historical anni
versary shall have helped us in counting some of the
treasures of our inheritance which are more precious than
gold and silver, and more enduring than even the highest
forms of sacred art's expression.
As little as I think of the habit of regret in public speech,
I was near yielding to an expression of it. I cannot well
think of any time, at which I would as much like to be able

to say the thing that ought to be said, as at such a time.
And my first feeling, when the plans shifted, was one
of deep regret that there was not possible a season of
brooding on the bright figure of those bright seven years
in the life of this Church and in the life of many an one
of us. But a decent candor compels the admission that I
believe the hope would have been as far from fulfilled if
months, rather than days, had measured the period of
preparation. How shall we tell one another of a friend? And how,
indeed, when that friend is a friend of the spirit, as well
as a friend of the heart and hand; a friend of the high
places and a friend of the hard places; a friend of the
great occasions of the soul, and a friend in the every day
walks of life. Emerson, when he would try to understand
one of Plutarch's men, — one of the strong, of the great, or
the high of the race, — confesses himself altogether baffled
when he sought his object by studying a record of their
achievements. There was evidently in the man, something
beyond the reach of record, which transcended those events
in which he was called upon to put forth his greatest
strength, which plainly enough showed brighter to those
who were within the light of personal association, than
even the brightest annals would indicate. It is the same
with us in the larger or in the smaller spheres, of life's
experiences and influences: the spirit that touches us
closest; that moves us most; cannot be counted off in
figures of speech or painted in any of the colors of literature.
I can do only this : — recall here and there an incident or
a phase of character and your memories will do what I
cannot. The labors of the Committee of the Church, appointed to
consider a successor to Dr. Munger, had been for more
than six months, constantly, systematically, and vigorously,

carried on. I may speak with freedom, because the quality
of the effort put forth, was due to the quality of the leader
ship of that Committee. I think it was a part of the faith
of each of us, even as month after month went by, without •
arrival at our goal, that such a steady, earnest, thorough
search would at last reveal in flesh and blood, that ideal
which lived in our minds. You may remember with what
great care we had avoided bringing into this pulpit anyone
who might be considered as a candidate for the position of
minister of the United Church. We felt it our duty, after
full investigation, to be of a unity ourselves, and then to
go to the Church with our conclusions and the well-ordered
reasons therefor.
And it was still in conformity with that plan that we
asked Mr. Haynes, then of Harwich, Massachusetts, if he
would supply the pulpit for a Sunday or two.
Supplies were the order of the day, and it was not to be
supposed that the congregation on that particular summer
morning in the year of our Lord 1901 would look upon
the occupant of the pulpit in any other light than one who
performed for them, for the time being, the services of a
minister of the church. As a committee we would continue
our investigations, and wisely appraise among ourselves the
quality of the material which had thus been offered for our
inspection. The programme originally laid down would be
rigidly adhered to. The Committee was determined.
It is necessary, however, in the name of history, to record
the fact that on and after the hour of noon of that particular
summer Sunday, the Committee on permanent supply of the
United Church and Society was only a formal mechanism.
Whether Mr. Haynes had appeared in the pulpit of the
United Church as a candidate or not, was a subordinate and
negligible question. The people to whom he had given that
day his message, decided not only that he was a candidate,

but that he was the candidate. As of one mind, they chose
him that morning to be their leader. You remember his
text: "And they left their nets, and followed him." And
you must remember something of the sermon. I recall a
picture by Israels, of a fisherman, walking along the edge
of a tumbling misty sea, bearing on his back a child. To
look upon it brought the smell of the sea in the air, and
almost the salt spray on the face. And as we listened to
that sermon that morning, the air of this Church was as
though it blew from the face of the deep. If the preacher
of the morning spoke as one who knew the lives of those
who go down to the sea in ships, he spoke also as one who
knew the lives of men in whatever relation he found himself
to them. Again, as Professor Bacon said at Harwich seven
years later, "we met in very truth a fisher of men."
But it was still the belief of the painstaking Committee
of this Church, that something in the name of investigation
should continue, and by a careful plot, with the connivance
of the permanent administrative officers of the Church and
the Society, it was arranged that a test should be made of
the quality of strength and endurance possessed by the new
candidate. He himself had been very frank about this, tell
ing us that he doubted his ability to take upon himself again,
for the present at least, the burdens of the ministry of a
Church. The almost complete breakdown under the strain
of his Chicago service, was still too recent an event to
leave him with confidence in his physical condition. "It
is a part of our duty," said the Committee, "to see for
ourselves how far this is a matter of modesty or fact." An
eminent member of this Church, very notable in many ways
and also as a pedestrian, was delegated for a Sunday after
noon walk with the possible candidate of doubtful strength.
It is not forbidden to report the fact that at the end of
the afternoon and its long miles of the swinging gait of the

long limbed preacher, the demonstration was considered
more than convincing and there were no further volunteers
for that kind of strength tests.
And yet, typical as was this experience of that peculiar
capacity to meet an occasion, which I know in this case was
absolutely unconscious, it is true that, for at least the first
half of his ministry, we all had more or less anxiety in
regard to his physical condition. But as his hold upon us
grew more strong; and the United Church in New Haven
seemed more naturally his home; as his consciousness of
his position in the Church and in the community became
more secure; as his preaching deepened in spirituality,
became more simple, more beautiful, more effective ; as he
passed into the constructive period of leadership, we saw
that he was strengthening his physical self, and knew that he
felt that the long struggle was over, and that his constitu
tion had welded itself into a capable instrument for doing
those high things which were before him to do.
It was with this picture of him in our minds that he left
us. Many of us will not outlive what that leaving meant.
Mr. Gibson might have said also of him :
He's gone,
I do not understand,
I only know . . .
My eyes were dazzled with the sunset glow, —
And he was gone.
There, is nothing that I would not give or do, if I could
in any way describe the power by which a nature such as
that of Artemas Haynes, acts upon those with whom it
comes in contact. It seems to me that we do him, and we
do life itself an injustice, if we satisfy ourselves by saying
that here was a touch of genius; ours was great good
fortune to be within its reach. If it were given the writer
of these disjointed recollections, to learn anything of what

he might have learned from association with this man, this
truth came home: — that any of us, however we may
choose to call ourselves limited in intellectual or spiritual
vision or insight, if we use the eyes that are given us; if
we face the light; if we keep the truth and the directness
and the simplicity that were given us when we came into
this world, — may see clearly through many complexities of
conventional circumstance which we call problems of life,
may look into other eyes and know their meaning; may
trust, and believe, and know something of, the Great Heart,
in whom we live and move and have our being.
Artemas Haynes brought us to our feet no more as he
trod the starry track, than as he told the truth about the
facts of every-day life. His sense of humor, — keener, more
nearly constant, and of a wider range, from the delicate
touch to the rollicking, wholesome joke, than in any man I
have ever known — was an evidence of that singleness of
vision, that mental and spiritual equilibrium, which made
him the preacher he was, and also the counsellor and friend.
He knew his own limitations and even exaggerated them.
He used to say, when we were discussing commercial
affairs : "I can't think of any business so prosperous or so
well organized, but that were I in control I could ruin it
in at most a month." And yet, if you brought to him a
business problem, in a very few questions, he brushed away
the non-essentials, and gave you clearly, the dominant
factors for your decision.
The men in the island settlements of Maine thought the
more of the preacher of the circuit, because he could guide
his sailboat through very ugly weather, and keep his preach
ing appointment, when the old captains had laid heavy odds
that the young parson would not reach the pulpit that day.
He took up what was in his way to take up, with a single
ness of purpose, and a clearness of perception of the prob-

lem; and whether it was fishing on the Grand Banks, or
accounting in an office, or contriving some means of getting
meat for the camp, or preaching on the immortality of the
soul, he did it all with simplicity and directness. As we
followed or were carried along with him, in his larger
enterprises, we did not realize how much of the unrealities
of convention and tradition had been left at the side of the
simple, straight path he followed.
It would be unfair to the memory of the man to leave
the impression of an unhuman flawlessness. Like most of
us, he had nerves. He saw things to be done, and was
not always ready to count the cost of doing them. A
daring frontier spirit fretted at the constraint of New
England conservatism. But if, the campaign over, the
wisdom of the general staff had been demonstrated, none
more quick than he in grateful recognition of that wisdom.
And when, as on one historic occasion, he took by storm a
height whose intrinsic and strategic value was, to many of
his people, doubtful, and he found the regiment had not only
followed him, but had forthwith "dug in" and was pre
pared to defend his position against all attack, he openly
reproached his own misgivings, and glowed in gratitude
to his followers. From no one have I heard such tribute
to the enduring steel and the fine gold of ripe New England
Christian character, as from this impetuous leader.
We knew, when he spoke the faith that was in him,
whether at the grave of a friend or in the pulpit on Easter
Day, that we too, could see with those eyes, if we only would.
If he could give himself to his purest, deepest impulses, so
could we. He showed us that a very human man, in his
maturity, could keep his heart as open as a child.
The Emery address quoted from "The True Romance."
The lines were nearest possible to saying something definite
on this point:

"Who holds by Thee, hath Heaven in fee
To guild his dross thereby,
And knowledge sure that he endure
A child, until he die."
And we might go further in our quotation and still be
on our theme : Thou art the voice to kingly boys
To lift them through the fight
And comfortress oi unsuccess
To give the dead good night.
Before Mr. Haynes first came to New Haven, he had
felt a great temptation to play the part of a free lance,
detached, if need be, from his fellows, without responsi
bility to any institution. He saw so many things he wanted
to say about society, about religion, about the ways of man
and the ways of God, which might or might not be naturally
and properly put forth within the limitations of an institu
tional connection, that he weighed long the problem of
further accepting the responsibility of ministerial leadership.
For if it were only to lead himself off into the still places
and the far places of mysticism, the outlook to him was
one that drew him with almost irresistible power. He used
to say in regard to the conclusion which led him again into
the ministry, that he had made up his mind "to stay with
the regiment." "This playing scout or skirmisher," as he
put it, "has all the fascination in the world, but I can't
quite bring myself to it. I can't quite detach myself from
those with whom I am making my way through life. I'll
do what I can within the limits of my power, to move the
regiment forward ; but I'll stay with the regiment."
You remember the quotation which Mr. Emery gives in
his memorial address, which sums this up in a different way.
"Man may travel to God by many roads, but on none can
he walk alone."

I had hoped to-night to make clear some of the reasons
which accounted for the appeal made by Artemas Haynes
to men and women in the widest variety of the walks of
life to whom the conventional forms of religious service
had lost their charm and their force. I have not done it.
But you know, as you recall the man and his ministry, what
it was that made his service in this church follow in such
a natural sequence the service of his great predecessor.
A certain wise man, described as a scientist, has lately
promulgated the discovery that our old notion of a provi
dential God is an absurdity; concerning which announce
ment, and in spite of it, a really wise editor has made
the observation that after all, science has been making rapid
strides of late, and has almost overtaken some of its own
fallacies. Those of us who still cling to this "absurd
notion," and who have watched with an anxious eye the
coming and the going of the ministers of this church, will
agree with me that it is hard to find a clearer evidence of
an overruling design in the ways of man than in the ponti
fical succession in the United Church in these last thirty
years. If a prudent regard for authority forbid me any
reference to the present, I can at least say, from the stand
point of one in the pews, that the whole series of the
services rendered by these three workmen of the Lord, have
been of an unity in all high essentials, and continuous in
progress along one royal highway. And the chiefest of the
blessings, that have come to every-day men and women,
as they have journeyed through their months and years
under this leadership, have come from the very natural
habit of each of these priests and prophets, not only of
making the human seem possibly divine, but of making the
divine seem so naturally the human. They have made the
things of every-day life, and the things of the spirit, seem
warp and woof of the same eternal fabric. In the human-

ness of teaching and in the humanness of living, as well
as in the unwearying insistence upon the things that are
not seen and that are eternal, has their work been
accomplished. In a particularly vivid way, did the ministry of Artemas
Haynes make clear the possible and natural divinity of the
richest and fullest human life.
What might be said as to this last matter of which I
shall speak can only be suggested, by me fragmentarily, by
incident and quotation. The makeup of the company at the
last services at Harwich and the state of their minds and
hearts would have said part of it. The character of the
congregation at the memorial services in this church spoke
its own impressive word on this theme. There are testi
monies in hearts and lives of the lowliest and the highest
in this city — could we command them — which would con
tribute much. That waiter in a New Haven restaurant
helped us to understand, when he answered the question of
the stranger in the city, on the day of the funeral at
Harwich. "Why are they tolling all the bells ?" asked the wayfaring
man. And the answer came from behind his chair :
"They're burying the preacher to-day, sir."
"Yes, and what about the preacher?"
"Why, sir, everybody loved him."
If the author of Song Flower and Poppy had heard the
preaching of Artemas Jean Haynes, I should have said that
he had in mind the minister of the United Church in New
Haven, sometime also of the Plymouth Church of Chicago,
when he wrote :
O hear, how it blooms in the blear dayfall,
That flower of passionate wistful song!
How it blows like a rose by the iron wall
Of the city loud and strong.

How it cries "Nay, nay" to the worldling's way,
To the heart's clear dream how it whispers, "Yea ;
Time comes, though the time is long."
And if this same poet had also lived much with this same
human prophet — if he had not only listened to him in a
pulpit or on a mission platform, but had camped with him,
and fished with him ; and if he had heard great music with
him; if he had watched him with children; if he had sat
at feasts with him, — as well as kneeled in prayer, — he might
with more faith have launched the great question of his
last lines : * How long, old builder Time, wilt bide
Till at thy thrilling word
Life's crimson pride shall have to bride
The spirit's white accord,
Within that gate of good estate
Which thou must build us soon or late,
Hoar workman of the Lord?

In connection with the one hundredth anniversary of its
dedication a tablet in memory of David Hoadley was placed
in the vestibule of the church by Mr. George Dudley Sey
mour. It bears the following inscription :

TO THE MEMORY
OF
DAVID HOADLEY
DESIGNER & BUILDER OF THIS
HOUSE ANNO DOMI 1813-1815
SELF-TAUGHT HE ROSE TO BE ONE
OF THE FOREMOST ARCHITECTS
OF HIS TIME HE WAS FOR MANY
YEARS A RESIDENT OF NEW HAVEN
WHICH HE GREATLY ENRICHED
WITH HIS GENIUS AN ATTEND
ANT UPON THE SERVICES OF THIS
CHURCH BORN IN WATERBURY
1774 HE DIED THERE 1839
"He had a sound judgment a
well balanced mind and a
generous and honest heart."
This tablet is placed here An. Do.
1915 by an admirer of his art.

The tablet was designed by Mr. Henry Charles Dean of
Boston, the lettering being modelled after that of some of
the best old tomb-stones in Boston and Salem. It is exe
cuted in purple Vermont slate, the letters having been cut
by hand by Mr. Herman T. Meister of New Haven.

On Tuesday evening, January 18, in the Parish House
was given a '"Picturesque History of the United Church,"
in the following eight tableaux, under the direction of Mr.
and Mrs. Harold S. Burr.
I "Our Heritage" of faith, hope, love, courage
and zeal bestows light on the "Seventeen
Decades" of the life of United Church.
II 1742 Moved by the spirit of the "Great Awakening,"
part of the members of First Church leave,
forming a separate congregation, North Church.
"And surely if this church be considered in all her parts, it shall
appear most beautiful, yea most wonderful. For it is called the city,
house and temple and mountain of the Eternal God, the garden,
the vineyard, the spring shut up, the sealed fountain, the orchard of
pomegranates with sweet -fruits, the heritage — the Kingdom of
Christ. For behold her King and Lord is the King of peace and
the Lord himself of all glory."
Ill 1744 Action taken against the erection of the
"Old Blue" meeting-house causes temporary
cessation of the building operations. Encour
aged by their heritage of faith and zeal, how
ever, the builders succeed in raising the building
that very day.
"A branch was bent down and took root in this church and
became itself the mother of churches— the true vine of the church
of God growing here for generations to come. And they believed
in His promise and found in after days that it was amply fulfilled.
Beset by foes and confronted with' what seemed to be impossible
tasks, they felt that they were not forsaken. They knew that He
was with them as He had said, that He was leading them still-
loving them still and helping them continually with a grace that
was ever sufficient for their need." ,«.

IV 1776 Roger Sherman, a Revolutionary hero from
North Church.
"May your trust for victory be solely in God. You may be
personally defeated, but your principles never. Truth, justice,
reason, humanity must and will gloriously triumph. Already a host
is coming to the help of the Lord against the mighty and the
prospect before us is full of encouragement and promise."
V 1815 The cornerstone of the present United Church
building is laid with due ceremony by the
pastor, Samuel Merwin. David Hoadley, the
architect, and Ithiel Town, being present.
"Let Christians look well to the foundations on which they
stand. Let them see to it that they be thoroughly rooted in truth,
eminently circumspect and holy in life, striving in all things to
exhibit the spirit of the Gospel. Let them fearlessly assert their
attachment to Christ, and let them consider 'as devolved on them,
the sacred duty of sustaining in their vigor and their purity, the
institutions of our fathers, and of elevating the standard of piety,
in the community in which they live."
VI 1821 Ordination, by Samuel Merwin, and subsequent
embarkation of our first three missionaries —
William Goodell, William Richards and Arte
mas Bishop — for the Sandwich Islands.
"Be it then your great concern to train up children for God and
for Glory — to imbue their minds with the principles of the Gospel,
and with the love of virtue and goodness, and may the God of the
Pilgrims be their God and their portion forever. Then shall you
see the cause of the Lord prospering around you; the heritage of
your fathers descending in undiminished glory to bless your
posterity — and you shall become pillars in the Temple of God, to
go no more out forever."
VII 1855 Preparation for the Civil War. Aided by
Henry Ward Beeeher, the pastor, Dr. Samuel 36

W. S. Dutton, secures and presents rifles to
the Kansas Company. One of the rifles was
given by Miss Dutton.

"Not unto us that did but seek
The word that burned within to speak,
Not unto us this day, belong
The triumph and exultant song.

"Upon us fell in early youth
The burden of unwelcome truth,
And left us weak and frail and few,
The censor's painful work to do.
3-
"We prayed and hoped, but still we saw
The coming of the sword with awe,
We heard the nearing steps of doom,
We saw the shade of things to come.
4-
"Not skill nor strength nor zeal of ours
Has mined and heaved the hostile towers.
Not by our hands is turned the key
That sets the sighing captives free.
5.
"Thy praise, O Lord, is Thine alone
In Thy own way the work is done.
Our poor gifts at Thy feet we cast,
To Whom be glory, first and last."
VIII 1916 Light from "Our Heritage" shining all
through the decades, still burns at the Deacon's
Meeting.