USA > Connecticut > New Haven County > Waterbury > The churches of Mattatuck : a record of bi-centennial celebration at Waterbury, Connecticut, Novermber 4th and 5th, 1891 > Part 5
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While appreciating fully the greatness of our differences, I rejoice in the essential unity of the Christian faith.
O Lord and Master of us all, Whate'er our name or sign,-
I bless God that this is true, as we sang here to- night. At the bottom, at the root, we are of one blood. Some day we may have not only one Lord, but one faith and one baptism. At least, when the millenium comes, I suppose that will be; and meanwhile I do bless God for our essential Christ- ian unity ; I rejoice in every manifestation of it.
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THE REV. MR. ELSDON'S ADDRESS.
and therefore am always glad to take part in such gatherings as this. When our Methodist brethren began organizing their Epworth leagues, I began grumbling, and denouncing them in my way, for breaking into that magnificent organization of Christian unity, the Young People's Society of Christian Endeavor. Now, alas ! the bad example is infectious, and there is a movement of the same kind in the Baptist churches-though they say that it isn't like the Epworth league, that we may still be affiliated with Christian Endeavor unions, though organized as Baptist Young People's socie- ties. But I, partly because I am so dogmatic and denominational, did rejoice in the privilege the Christian Endeavor movement afforded me of making known my hearty Christian sympathy with all believers and our essential unity ; so that I have been protesting right along against this new move- ment, and I uttered my protest against it at our state anniversary last month.
I am glad to be here to-night. I congratulate this old First church on her two hundred years that lie in the past. I hope that God will make the years to come more abundantly fruitful. I hope that God will multiply the peace and the prosperity of his people, and that the Christian fellowship which exists in these churches in Waterbury may be enlarged more and more in the days to come. The botanist goes out into the fields, and immedi- ately begins to classify and separate and group together grasses, plants, trees and ferns, although they all belong to the same kingdom. The astron- omer projects his telescope into the heavens, and begins to group together and classify the stars,
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THE WATERBURY CHURCHES.
although they are all one. It is one kingdom of nature, it is one celestial sphere. And so is it with us; when we get down beneath the form, when we get to the inner heart, the vital force, the living substance, we find, "whate'er our name or sign," that we are children of the one Father, holding essentially the one faith. And, please God, we shall finally dwell together in the one church triumphant.
ADDRESS BY THE REV. A. C. EGGLESTON, PASTOR OF THE FIRST METHODIST EPISCOPAL CHURCH.
I am always very glad to attend exercises of this sort. There are epochs in the history of churches, as well as in the lives of men, that may well be noted. These centennial occasions serve to make vivid and real our national and ecclesiastical his- tory ; we go back into a real past ; we take history out of the realm of fiction and imagination and make it live before us. To me personally the ser- vices of to-day are full of the deepest interest ; for I am a descendant by both my father and my mother from those who at the first wrestled with the wilderness here in Connecticut ; only my line goes back to the settlement of Windsor in 1640, and not to Mattatuck.
To-day by these exercises we are led back to take our places with those thirty or thirty-five families, who first entered the wilderness here and grappled with the earth in its natural roughness,
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THE REV. MR. EGGLESTON'S ADDRESS.
to subdue it, to build homes for themselves and to rear their children in the fear of God. The rocks and streams were here-the hills and meadows all untilled and uncultivated. The new settlers built twenty-five or thirty log houses, scattered here and there, where now are the great churches and beau- tiful homes. What labor, what care, what patience, what watchfulness against savages, they must have exercised ! The meadows, how valuable they were ; for they could be easily tilled, and would furnish pasturage and hay for cattle and horses and sheep ! The forests, the primeval forests, how massive, how hard to cut down and clear away !
Thirty families came, then, to settle here at Mat- tatuck, and these were all the people in the town, then sixteen or seventeen miles long by nine miles wide. There was no church nearer than Farm- ington, twenty miles away ; so these twenty-five or thirty families, two hundred years ago, founded this First church in Waterbury. And I think that in this they did wisely, for themselves and for their children and for us.
But here is a question of chronology that troubles me. Chronology is a hard subject to tackle, anyway,-the chronology of the Bible, of history, of geology. Here is the point : All this hap- pened only two hundred years ago. When I medi- tate upon the work accomplished in this country ; when I think of these sixty millions of people and these forty-four states ; when I think of the work of subjugating the wilderness and establishing our homes, our commerce, our railroads, our telegraphs and telephones ; when I think of our colleges and schools and churches-a Christian church of some
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THE WATERBURY CHURCHIES.
sort for every five hundred people in the land- why, it seems to me impossible that all this should have been wrought out in two hundred years. This is worse than asking a man to believe the Bible stories ! We read in the Bible how the Lord led the children of Israel out of Egypt, and finally placed David upon the throne as the equal of all kings. That took nearly five hundred years ; and it isn't yet four hundred years since Columbus first dis- covered the islands of the west, and only two hun- dred and seventy-one years, next month, since the Pilgrims landed on Plymouth Rock. But this is contrary to all experience! Whoever heard of a great continent, thousands of miles in extent, redeemed from the wilderness, subdued, peopled, educated, and raised to the very highest enlighten- ment in two hundred years? And yet the pastor of this church asks me to believe that all this has been accomplished in that length of time, and he brings up his old records to prove it. Well, I want to believe it, and as a Methodist I suppose I ought to. But if so, I shall believe that the age of God's wonders has not passed.
I sometimes think the churches in their quiet lives are like the genealogies of the antediluvian patriarchs ; two hundred years have to go by before they really get to living. It is written of Methu- selah that he was nearly two hundred years old when he begat Lamech. What that old patriarch had been doing all those years nobody knows; seemingly, nothing worth recording. But at length Lamech is born, and then it is said, "Methuselah lived after he begat Lamech seven hundred and eighty-two years, and begat sons and daughters."
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THE REV. MR. EGGLESTON'S ADDRESS.
Apparently, it took those old patriarchs about two hundred years to come to their maturity ; and the same seems to be true of some churches. But while it is pleasant to remember the past, it is still more pleasant to look forward, and to feel assured that there is no reason why these churches should not go on for the future, increasing in piety and in every good work among men.
I am not here, however, to make a long speech. I am here to bring to this First church of Water- bury the Christian greetings of the Methodist churches of this old town. I bring to you, Chris- tian brethren, our most hearty good wishes for your continued prosperity. We desire, not that you should decrease in any way, but that you should increase in all spiritual grace and usefulness. As Methodists we are not here to pull down, or to hinder, or to depreciate any good work, but to give hearty fellowship and help in the great task of caring for and tilling the Master's vineyard. We rejoice in the work done by those brave and earnest men who founded and maintained this church under difficulties seemingly insurmount- able, and we pray that the blessings of the past may only be prophecies of the glory which shall crown this Zion in the future .*
* A careful account of the origin of Methodism in Waterbury, and a history of the First Methodist Episcopal church, was published in the Waterbury American of July 5th, 1889 (weekly edition). It was written by Mr. A. F. Abbott for the forthcoming History of Waterbury.
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THE WATERBURY CHURCHES.
PAPER BY MR. D. F. MALTBY, OF THE SECOND CONGREGATIONAL
CHURCH.
On the 3d of February, 1851, a special meeting of the Congregational society of Waterbury was "warned " by the society's committee, to meet on the evening of February 10th, to take into consid- eration, in connection with other business, the organization of a Second Congregational society. The population of the place at that time was about 5,500, and the membership of the church nearly 400. Waterbury had already become noted for its manufacturing industries and for its enterprising business men, many of whom were members of the Congregational church and society. They were looking forward to an increased business, and a larger and more rapid growth of population. Such men as Aaron Benedict, P. W. Carter, the Hon. Green Kendrick, the brothers Philo and William Brown, and Edward Scovill-men of broad views in business, and of broad views also in regard to the moral and religious wants of the community- foresaw the growth of Waterbury, and recognized the fact that while there was no dissension in the church, and it was not so large as to make parish duties burdensome to the pastor, it would be good and wise policy to make fuller provision for moral and religious instruction and church fellowship.
At the meeting held February 10th, 1851, in answer to the call, the following resolution was passed :
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MR. D. F. MALTBY'S PAPER.
Voted, that this society deem it expedient and necessary for the interest of Congregationalism, and also of our own society, that a new Congregational church be formed in this place.
Voted, that Messrs. Nelson Hall, Gideon L. Platt, Charles Benedict, Newton Hine, Jr., and Dyer Ames, Jr., be a com- mittee to procure subscriptions for a new house of worship, and said subscriptions not to be binding on any one unless $15,000 are pledged.
This at that time was considered, and was, a large amount to raise to start a new society. Several adjourned meetings of the society were held, to hear reports from the committee and to keep alive the interest. At the eighth adjourned meeting, held October 25th, 1851, the committee reported, that the amount necessary to make the subscription binding, namely, $15,000, had been procured. The same evening the book was opened for names of subscribers to the new Congregational society. There were ten names subscribed in the following order : Charles Benedict, J. M. Burrall, Douglas F. Maltby, Augustus S. Chase, Augustus M. Blakesley, J. Watson White, Edwin A. Lum, Charles Partree, Nelson Hall, and Norton J. Buel. Half of the number have been chosen deacons of the Second church; half the number have been laid away in the city of the dead.
Some months after the organization of the soci- ety, that is, on the 4th of April, 1852, a daughter was born to the First church, and was named the Second Congregational church. It was organized with a membership of fifty. Thirty-five were re- ceived from the First church, and fifteen from twelve other churches. Thirteen of these are still members, thirteen have removed to other places,
4
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THE WATERBURY CHURCHES.
and twenty - four have stars prefixed to their names.
The first pastor was the Rev. Seagrove W. Magill, installed soon after the church was organized. Dr. Magill was a man of fine physique and command- ing presence, possessed of a great deal of dignity, yet very kind, tender and fatherly-a man who won the confidence and love of his people. His sermons were carefully written, showing study of both thought and expression, requiring very close attention on the part of his hearers. His good common sense and sound judgment, in both tem- poral and spiritual matters, made him just the man to lay well the foundation of the new organization, and the church still feels the power of his strong hand, his safe instruction, and wise counsel. For twelve years in this community he lived a noble life as a trusted and honored citizen, greatly ad- mired and beloved .*
The Rev. Elisha Whittlesey succeeded Mr. Magill, coming at a time when there was more than ordi- nary religious interest in the Sunday school. He entered into the work with earnestness, and quite large additions were made to the membership of the church soon after he came. The church pros- pered under his pastorate of nearly six years.
The Rev. Edward G. Beckwith succeeded Mr. Whittlesey. It was only necessary for him to preach one sermon in our pulpit to turn our hearts toward him. He was a man exceedingly attractive both in and out of the pulpit, a very interesting and earnest preacher, genial and sympathetic, able and
* Dr. Magill died on Sunday morning, January 20th, 1884. On the next Sunday a memorial service was preached by the Rev. J. G. Davenport, of which a full abstract was published in the Waterbury American, January 28th, 1884 .- EDITOR.
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MR. D. F. MALTBY'S PAPER.
ready to adapt himself to all with whom he came in contact. Preaching the gospel of Christ, and living it in his daily life, he reached the hearts of his people. He was fertile in expedients for help- ing the society financially, and in enlisting all, old and young, in the work of the church. The society very soon paid its large debt, which had long been a heavy load to carry, and the church had a large amount of work constantly before it. His ministry of ten years and three months brought both church and society into an exceedingly prosperous condition.
Before Dr. Beckwith, who was securely locked up in the hearts of his people, left, the Lord in a spe- cial manner had opened the way for another, who was not to break the lock, but to use the key in the same effective fashion. And so it came about that the Rev. John G. Davenport, who had preached in Dr. Beckwith's pulpit for a single Sabbath, became Dr. Beckwith's successor. Mr. Davenport has now entered upon his eleventh year as our pastor; the lock has not been broken, but the key has opened it. We love him just as truly as we did Dr. Beck- with, and the Lord has signally blessed his minis- try-as the growth of the church, not only in mem- bership but in Christian character and activity, testifies.
The steady and rapid increase in the membership of the Second church, from the beginning until now will appear in the following statement, showing the number received by the several pastors:
By Mr. Magill, on profession 76, by letter 226; total, 302.
By Mr. Whittlesey,
IOI,
86 ;
187.
By Dr. Beckwith,
222,
180; 402.
By Mr. Davenport,
247,
298 ; 545.
Between pastorates,
4,
17; 2I
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THE WATERBURY CHURCHES.
The entire number received, to the present time, is 1457; the present membership is 836.
We went out from the mother church a small company, imbued with something of the same spirit she had in bidding us go. She promised us sympathy and help as we might need, and for many years we had need of both; for our faith was sorely tried, and our pockets, which were not richly lined, were heavily taxed. It was a sorry sight on the morning of January 19th, 1857, to see the beautiful steeple of the new church, lying prostrate on the roof of the buildings south of it, even as far as the roof of Irving block, and the south-west corner of the edifice in ruins. But the sympathy and help of the mother church, and others, gave us courage and cheer.
We rejoice in uniting with our beloved and hon- ored mother in celebrating her bi-centennial birth- day. We rejoice in the pleasant feeling existing between the mother and the daughter, and we pray that the Lord may guide and bless both of us in all our future history.
POEM BY THE REV. JOHN G. DAVENPORT PASTOR OF THE SECOND CONGRE- GATIONAL CHURCH.
One night I was sitting on Centre square Charmed with the scene that is ever fair, Watching the elms in their silvery glow, And their shadows flung on the grass below; Noting the bronzes, tall and grand,
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THE REV. MR. DAVENPORT'S POEM.
That grace the common on either hand, Catching the glitter and glint that play Like the flash of gems on the fountain's spray; Tracing fantastic figures made By paths inwoven with light and shade; Glancing anon at the buildings fair That compass so grandly our famous square. Many passed by and I dreamily heard The ripple of laughter, the earnest word, The jest of the flippant, the ribald song, The rythmic step of the hurrying throng. But little I thought of the eager life With which the beautiful scene was rife; The pictures wrought in the evening's glow Suggested others of long ago.
The lights grew dim and a shadow fell O'er the scenes that I knew and loved so well. The buildings that stood in their proud array Melted like mists and faded away; And on either side I could faintly trace The rudest of cabins in their place, Whose narrow windows revealed the rays Of the twinkling light of other days; And from out the marshes between I heard The voice of the frog and the water-bird, And a dampness mantled the evening air That chilled my soul like a grim despair.
The scene was shifted, and now the breeze Swept sadly sighing through forest trees; And out on the night air, shrill and high, From the hill-top rang the wild beast's cry. T turned, and where Harmony has her home,
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THE WATERBURY CHURCHES.
Uplifting its graceful arch and dome, A wigwam was standing, with skins apart, And a fire within with a crimson heart, And round the glow, on the earthen floor, A cluster of savages, half a score. Some fashioned their arrows, and some displayed The bows that their skillful hands had made; Some told of the brilliant chase, and some Sat like sphinxes, unmoved and dumb.
But while I was looking, St. John's sweet bell To the present recalled with its lingering knell, Proclaiming afar that another hour Had passed beyond human reach and power. The radiant picture again I knew, To fact, not fancy, its features true. "I must leave," said I; when near me drew, As I thought, a figure in somber hue, Of style antique and of saintly air, And of face as dignified as fair. A startled look filled his searching eyes, As of gravest doubt or of wild surprise. With courtesy bowing, he eagerly said, "In just returning from realms of the dead I sought to discover again the place, Familiar so long with my form and face. And I thought it was here, but all I can see Appears but a puzzling mystery. Name for me, sir, if you will, this town." Astonished, I said, " It has great renown; Do you carry a watch ?" and the words we sing Regarding the " everlasting spring " Suggested their most irrelevant rhyme. But I murmured, " You take no note of time.
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THE REV. MR. DAVENPORT'S POEM.
'Tis Waterbury town," said I; "A place where so many would live and die That real estate is exceedingly high; Where brass is moulded to forms untold, And ever transmuted to shining gold; Where hammer and anvil ne'er cease to ring, Nor busiest wheels to whirl and sing; Where "-but he stopped me. "Somewhere here I preached the gospel for many a year, But just where it was, I'm not so clear. I thought I remembered the sacred spot, But going thither, my soul waxed hot At finding uplifted toward the sky A brazen horse on an altar high, An idol vaunting itself just there Where I warned them of idols to beware. Shocked at the horrible sight I had seen, I fled to the opposite end of the green, When, lo, on another altar there, The form of a woman appeared in air. Whether Fate or Fury, I could not tell, Or Diana of Ephesus, noted well, Or the Virgin Mary, or other dame; But my soul was crushed with the awful shame. And I saw (and no grief could equal mine) The lighted candles about her shrine. Oh tell me, sir, can it truly be That this town has lapsed to idolatry ?"
"Oh no," I answered, with stifled laugh, " Don't take our horse for a golden calf. We never worship yon prancing steed, Preferring a record for better speed. And as for the woman over there,
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THE WATERBURY CHURCHES.
With the coronet circling her nut-brown hair, It's Victory, holding the wreath of bays For the heroes worthy of deathless praise. If a woman we worshipped, we'd bow the knee To a creature of not so high metal as she.
" But, please sir, who are you ?" I now inquired, For to know the quaint visitor I aspired. Said he, " When I threaded this spacious park And here was abiding, they called me 'Mark.' Through more than a century's half I stood For all I thought noble and pure and good, And tried, with such powers as I had, to win The people I loved from the grasp of sin. The fruit of my labor I do not know; They've wholly forgotten, ah, long ago, The earnest words that I uttered here, And him who spake them, I greatly fear. All is so changed; it cannot be That Waterbury remembers me. I've even failed to discover my bones, Or decipher on plainest memorial stones The name that once was accounted dear; Alas, alas, they're ungrateful here."
"Why, Reverend Mark Leavenworth!" I replied; "Your name and your influence have not died. The seeds of truth that you planted here Yield blossom and fruitage, year by year. Look over this busy, progressive town, Extending the fertile valley down, And climbing the slopes to the sunny height That watches and guards us on left and right; Consider the palaces here of toil,
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THE REV. MR. DAVENPORT'S POEM.
The beautiful homes that garland the soil, The buildings reared for the children's weal, And the temples where thousands humbly kneel; Observe how the bustle of life is here With its ceaseless vigor and hope and cheer, And in all that is best in this noble town You've a right to discover your own renown. You and the others laid broad and sure Foundation stones that shall ever endure. Integrity flawless and purpose true, The justice that never withholds the due, A public spirit that's high and strong, Conscience to scuttle the public wrong, Regard for the welfare of man that sees Far over the bounds of present ease,- All this in the early days you taught, And thus for the future you grandly wrought. And so, while your bones may be disinterred And to peaceful and honored couch transferred, Your life 'mid these latest, most stirring days Goes throbbing on through our crowded ways, And Waterbury 's responsive still To the force of your sturdy and manly will."
The old man smiled, and he asked, " But where Now worship the people of my care ?" I pointed at once to the graceful spire All flooded and gilt with electric fire: " Here in a temple both rich and strong Your dear old church is uplifting its song, And worshipping Him, with reverent soul, Who lives unchanged while the ages roll." " But who stands now where I stood, to tell The slippery ways that lead to hell ?"
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THE WATERBURY CHURCHES.
"One Joseph now points to the heavenly bliss, And urges the people to strive for this." "Not Joseph Bellamy, here returned, A mightier logic having learned ? Ah, here he would often weave his chain From a fervid heart and glowing brain, And with it would leave his listeners bound As under a magic spell profound. He cannot be here again to show The ills that the non-elect shall know?"
"That Bethlehem star is set," I said, "Your ancient Bellamy's with the dead. Perchance were he, sainted, to come again To labor on earth for the souls of men, He long might live as a man at large, Enrolled as a minister "without charge." The world has been moving, as you must know, Since he, sir, and you in death lay low. Old issues are passing, new truths appear, Earth's vision is broadening year by year. The clergyman stands of his age a part, The product of forces that pulse in its heart, Athrill with its thought and aglow with its zeal, Discerning the false and embracing the real That leap into view at the turn of the wheel. His sensitive spirit is pained with the need Of society given to lust and to greed, And he eagerly lifts to the view of mankind The perfect ideal, the heavenly mind,
Strength wedded with gentleness, virtue unpriced, The splendor of manhood, the crown of the Christ. And thus (while its product) he fashions his age, And leads ever up to a worthier stage;
His voice as the trumpet whose musical peal
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THE REV. MR. DAVENPORT'S POEM.
To conflict calls onward, to conquest as real. Our Joseph, succeeding you here, we esteem As a man for his time, in his office supreme, Awake to the truth and the need of the hour And bringing to duty high culture and power."
My visitor listened, and studied the while The church uplifting its shadow-wreathed pile. He seemed to be dreaming of years that are past As he waited in silence; then suddenly asked, " How solves he the question, profound and sublime, The deepest and grandest inquiry of time ?" My mind flew at once to the themes of our thought Whose study had special perplexity brought. The mode of creation, direct or by stages, The author or authors of Pentateuch pages, Free trade or protection as best for a nation, The Andover view of post-mortem probation, Prohibition or license, the Gospel of John- Are a few of the points that I lingered upon; But what was the query he questioned about, I shortly confessed I was somewhat in doubt. " I mean, sir," now turning in wonder to me, " How God can be sovereign, and man can be free. The question we struggled with, year after year, . And settled with logic as weighty as clear, But found, having ended and laid down our pen, That the question was there to be settled again. Has this, my successor, 'mid time's evolution, Secured what is truly a valid solution ?"
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