CHAPTER XII. TRUE YOKE-FELLOWS.

One secret of the success of John Chambers lay in the power which he had under God of attracting good men, capable and faithful men as helpers, and inspiring them with loyalty to himself. They followed him as he followed Christ. Though independent in action, his was the co-operative type of mind which was grandly shown in the continuous and faithful toil necessary for the growth and life of a church.

The government of the First Independent Church was Presbyterian in cast and form. Indeed it is very doubtful whether a Congregational Church, strictly so called, could have been carried on by the people of such intensely Presbyterian training and inheritance as most of his people were. The congregation held a business meeting once a year and the trustees, elected by the pew holders, took charge of the property, the edifice, and the finances. The elders were elected for life by the vote of the membership. There were no deacons. "All the elders added to the eldership since 1825 have been active praying men" said our pastor, in 1875.

Of the first elders I have no remembrance, though I think Matthew Arrison and Thomas Hibbert, ordained to the eldership in 1827, were, though aged men, in active service when I was a little child. I have dim remembrances of these two veterans, and certainly from very early days their names in our home were household words, so that I associate them with the aroma of things happy and lovely. At the name of Robert Buist, a dignified looking gentleman as I remember him, and who married the sister of Mr. Cham[97]bers, there rise up visions of seeds, bulbs, flowers, and gardens, for he kept, on Chestnut, or Market Street, a seed warehouse; and I am bound to say (for we tried them in our gardens), that his seeds would grow. In 1852, he removed from the city and resigned his eldership. In 1857, two years after I entered the Sunday School, the Session consisted of Robert Luther, Aaron H. Burtis, John Yard, Jr., Francis Newland, Daniel Steinmetz, and Rudolph S. Walton. After the death of Mr. Burtis, Joseph B. Sheppard was elected to fill his place. I remember the election, on Wednesday evening, December 19th, 1860, and that I voted for the successful candidate, who had been nominated by Mr. Chambers. After the resignation of four elders in 1861, Richard Smallbrook, Thomas P. Dill, Alexander Brown and Edward H. Lawyer filled the places left vacant. Of Messrs. Broome, Brown, and Smallbrook, I have no clear remembrance, being, after 1861, only a visitor, though a very interested one, at the old home church.

Robert Luther was for forty-three years elder. He was a mason and builder with both bricks and men. My mind's photograph of him shows a very portly man, weighty in both body and mind. My awe of his person was tempered by a knowledge of his perpetual kindness. As master builder of the edifice on Broad Street, he "wrought with sad sincerity" equal to him who "groined the aisles of Christian Rome" and, like him, "builded better than he knew". His son, Rev. Robert Maurice Luther is the well known Baptist pastor, missionary to Burmah, and professor of theology. He is proud, like myself, to call himself an alumnus of the First Independent Church, and has cheered me in this work of portraying our under-shepherd who led us to the Bishop of our souls.

John Yard, Jr., was much smaller in figure and of quiet dignity. Joseph B. Sheppard, always very neatly dressed,[98] I associated with manly repose, fine language, and a most attractive store on Chestnut street, where beautiful lustrous Irish linens were sold. Somehow in my childish memories, there are blended with Mr. Sheppard's name and personality, memories of those elegant tea parties, made elegant, I mean, by the sparkling wit and grace of the guests who gathered in my father's home, and over which my mother presided with such ease. I can truly boast that our modest dwelling was often irradiated by those we were able to attract to it. At one of these occasions, on April 30, 1855, "The Young Ladies' Association" presented their "Directress", at the hands of the pastor, with a handsome copy of "The Republican Court"—a book which tells much of Philadelphia society in the days of President Washington, and of those men and women of national fame, whom not a few of the very elderly persons in our congregation remembered. As a little boy, I always enjoyed the permission accorded me of coming in, after the best part of the supper was over, and listening to the conversation of the gentlemen and ladies, who seemed to me like so many princes and princesses, and from whose intellectual conversation, I am sure I often profited.

My mother taught during many years, a large Bible class of young ladies, which met in the Sunday School room at the right of the pulpit, between that and the northwest door. It afterwards grew so large that teacher and pupils had to occupy a separate room. Looking along the perspective of years I can think of no faces more lovely or countenances more animated; no dresses prettier and no hats smarter than those of these young maidens of marriageable age or near it. To see them and their teacher when the pastor came around for his morning greeting and handshake with the "Directress" was a sight worthy of a painter.

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I fear that my readers will charge me with putting undue emphasis upon the material loveliness of what I saw and felt, but then we were all taught by the grand man to be happy. He used to insist that God wanted us to enjoy everything, and for the good reason that He had made all things richly for us to enjoy. He believed in love and marriage, and in happiness as a thing to be pursued and cultivated. He taught also that the richest, deepest, most constant enjoyment was most certainly found in a holy Christian life, and that a fruitful human career redounded to God's glory. The blessings of the 128th Psalm were often insisted on. He said, when fifty years a pastor: "I have married 2,329 couples. I was not responsible for their future happiness, but I believe and trust that in the main they have all been happy. If they were not happy the fault is their own. There is no reason why men and women cannot be happy when they ought to be".

Concerning pre-eminence among the elders, I feel sure that none will charge me with partiality when I record my impressions that in physical presence, in dignity and polish of manner, and in spirituality, Aaron H. Burtis led them all. He seemed a veritable re-incarnation of George Washington, though possibly with more personal magnetism and easy familiarity than even the Father of his Country is credited with. In any company his was a marked form, while in the gatherings for social worship his words, whether addressed to the Heavenly Father in adoration or to the people in exhortation, or in opening the treasury of the Scriptures, which he knew so well how to do with point and grace, were always acceptable.

Francis Newland was long the Asaph of the house of God, and lover not only of music but of all good things, tolerant and charitable, patient with the silliness of the young,[100] a noble father and friend, a most winsome saint, having many lines of conviction diverging from those of the pastor, liberal in his thinking, yet ever loving and beloved by John Chambers. I may truly say that he gave out stimulating and purifying influences like a mountain. I saw him last on earth when in Boston he visited his daughter and the Shawmut Congregational Church, of which I was pastor. I remember that the sermon was on Elisha and the Shunammite woman's son. He was then nearly blind. Yet, very curiously, he had on his retina a single spot still sensitive, by which, holding the dial of his watch in a certain position, he could read the time of day. In the case of Messrs. Luther, Burtis, and Newland I felt that they were such good men largely because they had such good wives.

Of all the elders, Daniel Steinmetz seemed to me most steadily worth hearing in the prayer and missionary meeting. Steinmetz always had ideas. He was a Bible student and knew how to present a thought with admirable clearness and close practical adaptation to every day life. He was an intense, ardent patriot, and a useful man in both private and public life. He was one of that noble stock of cultured Pennsylvania Germans that has so enriched our national inheritance.

Rudolph Schiller Walton was for many years my Sunday School teacher to whom I owe a debt of gratitude, though when I grew up and could think for myself and read the Bible in the original tongues and draw upon the resources of scholarship, I frankly disagreed with him upon some questions of church policy and the attitude of Christians toward that critical scholarship which produced under Luther and Calvin one great Reformation, and is yet to produce, by God's blessing and purpose, a still greater one. Foreseeing easily in the early eighties what many Presbyterian[101] laymen could not then see, that before many years the substance of the truth, as held in cumulative unanimity by scholars, would be accepted by the Presbyterian Church as it has been in these years 1902 and 1903, I could afford to wait until we should see eye to eye. I knew him first as a teacher of a large class of unusually wriggly and often badly behaved boys. They were such real boys that I, with a touch of Pharasaism, believed them to be much worse, in every way, than those who made up our class, which, for a time, was taught by Mr. Charles Painter, a bookbinder.

When Mr. Walton in 1860, took his class out of the main school room into the separate southwest corner room, I entered as one of his scholars.

In the afternoons we went through Old Testament history getting pretty well through the period covered by the Book of Kings and Chronicles. To this hour these parts of Holy Scripture are as vivid to me as Durer's pictures, because of Rudolph S. Walton's teaching. We studied the Bible itself, and not lesson helps. One reason to-day why there is such a gulf between the Sunday School and the pulpit, and why the average scholar and even teacher is so apt to be scared at the "higher criticism"—even if indeed he knows what it is—is because he is fed, not on the Divine Word itself, but on those dilutions of it, and those plates of hash called lesson helps. Instead of the pure milk and meat of the Gospel, even the teachers stuff themselves with pre-digested food and machine-prepared aliment of all sorts.

For years while Mr. Walton lived, I often dropped in at Wanamaker's Grand Depot at Thirteenth and Market (1876-1896), when in Philadelphia, and always enjoyed his pleasant welcome and a handshake. He sold hats for a living, but his calling was to serve Christ. If ever a man loved his fellow men and wanted to do them good, it was Rudolph S.[102] Walton. As a benefactor, dispenser of cheer and sunshine, helper of all good causes, and a citizen of renown, his name will live. He died in 1902, at the age of seventy-four, leaving his fortune to help his fellow men.

Mr. Thomas P. Dill was hard of hearing, but his spiritual hearing was like that of Samuel or Paul. He was very tender hearted, ever faithful and true, making every talent that he possessed, whether one or more, tell to the glory of his Master. He seemed never to weary in following me up, cheering and encouraging me, expressing his personal appreciation, and joining also with me in sounding the praises of "our pastor" and the dear old church. Whether I went to college at New Brunswick, or came back from Japan to live in New York, or preached the Gospel at Schenectady or in Boston, "Brother Dill", who was a commercial traveller, always sought me out to bring sunshine and delightful chatty news from the old bee-hive in Philadelphia.

Edward S. Lawyer was a man of God and the loving servant of his fellow church members, and I recall his sunshiny presence. He seemed always so buoyant in spirit, so young in his feelings, so active in his sympathies, that it was long before I could think of him as an "elder". Of him I have the pleasantest associations. Besides passing the money box in making the usual collections on Sundays, he was always active, nimble, and ready to help his pastor. As the years increased, he seemed to grow in divine grace and in all winning human graces.

Of John C. Hunter, modesty forbids me to speak at length, as he was my uncle, having married Miss Sarah Clark, who in the thirties had accompanied Mr. and Mrs. Chambers on their visit to Ohio, establishing a union Sunday School at Mount Pleasant, the first in the place. With his wife, Mr. Hunter became deeply interested in Chambers Church. A[103] man of wealth and generous in his gifts, besides being very devout and of simple and unaffected piety, he was a valuable addition to the board of elders and among the trustees. The son of John C. Hunter, named after the senior elder, Aaron Burtis, entered the Episcopal ministry, and is now, as he has been for years, the efficient principal of St. Augustine's School, at Raleigh, N. C., the director and manager of this industrial and religious settlement which is doing so much to elevate the negroes.

Of Fred. J. Buck (one of that great family that came from Bucksport, Me., one of whom I knew as a professor of Sanscrit and another as the United States Minister to Japan) I have also pleasant recollections, as of a family physician, and of a friendship extending through many years, as well as of fraternal participation in the life of the church. He was a cultivated gentleman and an able physician, as well as helpful elder.

Of Robert H. Hinckley, Jr., who I believe at this writing is the only surviving presbyter of the college of elders, I have memories going back to the time when we were both boys in the Sunday School, where he was noted always for his punctuality, activity, and willingness to serve. Of the depth and tenacity of his friendships, of his varied abilities, of his untiring service as a practical worker in the Master's vineyard, of his wisdom in council, propriety forbids me to speak in other than very general terms. After a friendship of fifty years, we both agree, as fellow alumni of Chambers Church, in our high estimate of the great preacher.

Other remembered friends and brethren were Mr. Purdy, Mr. Biles, and others of whom I cannot say my recollection is very clear. Many excellent brethren have come and gone since the time of my active connection with the church, so I am unable to do them justice. Mr. and Mrs. Biles had a most interesting family of sons and daughters, who were[104] ever faithful workers in the church. Most of them I had the honor of knowing, and one of them, Charles, was a warm friend. Their daughters still follow the Master in unwearying service. Another friend and man of force in the prayer-meeting was William Smith, whose sister is one of the good city missionaries of my native city. To this day, I remember many of his clear and earnest words.

On the occasion of the fiftieth anniversary or jubilee of the pastor, in 1875, the two great white columns were festooned with greenery, and above the pulpit desk rose a great arch of flowers and foliage with potted plants at the base. Behind the open Bible was the pastor, the veteran and leader, his hair a veritable crown of glory as he stood under the arch, which was itself surmounted with a crown of fragrant flowers. On the platform sat in the historic chair, (which is still preserved in the Chambers-Wylie Memorial,) Francis Newland, the senior elder and on his right hand in order, seven of the church officers, and on his left the same number, making fifteen in all. The elders were Messrs. Newland, Hunter, Buck, Dill, Lawyer, and Hinckley. The trustees, (not naming those who were also elders) who served within my recollection were George I. Young, George F. Nagle, Charles Yard, John M. Snyder, Samuel Campbell, Harrison Purdy, James Evans, John T. Beatty, Henry Myers, Isaac Bruce, Joseph T. Biles, Charles D. Supplee, Eliashib Tracy, William S. Williams, Charles D. Marrott, Augustus Somers, George Allen, Edwin West, J. B. Johnson, Henry Leslie, etc.

In his semi-centennial anniversary sermon Dr. Chambers said "We have sent out from our church between thirty and forty young men who are in the ministry, two of whom are in the pulpit with me this morning.... A number of them have paid the debt of nature and gone home, after they renounced the cross to have a crown". It was during[105] this memorable week that under arch and crown of greenery and between wreathed columns, standing behind the pulpit, while his elders and trustees—a noble band of helpers—sat or stood on the platform beneath, that the last photograph of John Chambers was taken.

Happily for the present writer and for future historians the Session of the Church, through their committee, Francis Newland and Robert H. Hinckley, Jr., secured a record of the sermon and "Commemorative Services" and published a neat volume of one hundred and three pages, which issued from the Inquirer press and was presented to the pastor's friends as a keepsake.

Dr. Chambers' third wife Matilda, who survived him, was the widow of Dr. Stewart, and a daughter of Peter Ellmaker. She had been reared in the Episcopal Church. One of her sayings, told in confidence to a friend who has told it to me, was that she admired the ritual forms of "the church," in which she had been reared, but had known many ecclesiastical dignitaries, who became smaller as she knew more of them as men. It came rather as a surprise to her that in a church where so little store was set on outward forms, human character tended to enlarge. As for her husband, his true greatness steadily grew upon her mind as well as affections. It was through her influence that the degree of Doctor of Divinity was conferred on him by the Jefferson Medical College of Philadelphia. For a number of years, the most attractive courses of sermons were those to medical students. Frequently as many as twelve hundred students, by actual count, were present on these occasions.

Yet no appraisal of the value of the services rendered by the comrades and helpers of "the pastor" could possibly be complete, without a warm, hearty and sincere tribute to the noble women of the First Independent and the Chambers[106] Presbyterian Church. It is for me to make reference only. Justice in detail I cannot do. Without their zeal, devotion and tireless consecration, there would have been no such church as that which became the mighty mother of many children in God. To-day the majority of them have "fallen asleep". A few still remain on earth with us, in vigor of body and mind, some with the white light of Heaven's morning on their hair. They are "only waiting" the call of Him who has "forgotten to forget" them, or their unselfish service of love. In His Name they toiled. In His Name they still serve by waiting. "Faint, yet pursuing", a handful even yet follow the Undiscouraged One, in active service for souls.

Of the old mother church it could ever be said:
"The Lord giveth the word.
The women that publish the tidings are a great host."

Does the reader complain that this chapter is already too long? Yet must I not omit the pastor's assistant "at the other end"—William Weaver. I cannot tell how long or in how many edifices, old or new, he served as sexton, but "I knew him well and every truant knew." He had stricter notions on the subject of behavior at any and all times than some of us boys had, and his discipline occasionally was according to seventeenth century spirit and methods. I cannot say that we boys made his life a burden or shortened it untimely, for he lived to a good old age. Honored be his name and green his memory, for he believed in plenty of light, fresh air, comfort, cleanliness and order—the primitive articles of a sexton's creed, and he honored his Master and the house of God by his faithfulness.[9]

[9] See a fuller and more detailed account in the chapter entitled "Some Sextons I Have Known" in the forthcoming volume, "Sunny Memories of Three Pastorates". Ithaca, 1903.