spaper
articles commented on unusual sermons, such as the one on the balloons.
Addresses at Northfield, Silver Bay and other places called attention
to the church's work in ever-widening circles, Hamilton House came into
being, but without organic connection with the church.

[Illustration: New Church Flag]

In short, Mr. Denison's compelling personality and enormous capacity for
work put others to work, so that in the summer of 1895 9,546 persons
were brought together in the old church in five weeks.

So men and women came and went, some of them wrote books and magazine
articles about the work with more or less accuracy. Mr. Denison's own
poems were more appreciated by those who knew.

The force of it all was irresistible, and so the last trace of
opposition in Presbytery and elsewhere disappeared. On November 11,
1895, the sale of the property was called off, and $2,000 a year paid
for three years. Ever since Presbyterians and others have been proud
of the outpost the united church is maintaining at Market and Henry
Streets. It is a happy memory that all of the men who in Presbytery
supported sale resolutions became staunch friends of the church.

Mr. Denison was not ordained when first he came to Market Street, but
this was done later at Williamstown in the College Chapel. On entering
New York Presbytery his installation as regular pastor of the Church
of the Sea and Land was effected March 23, 1899.

In 1894 Mrs. Shaw spent considerable money fixing up the lecture room
and in 1896 a new roof was put on the church at an expense of $600.

Mr. Denison made a tour of the world, being absent from November, 1900,
to October, 1901.

Among the men working under Mr. Denison was Horace Day, a young
theological student who gave his life after a brief but intense period
of work.

In Mr. Denison's time, too, falls the best work of Mrs. Eliza E.
Rockwell. She was indefatigable, beloved of many, none too far gone to
merit her attention, nothing too hard to do. She, too, laid down her
life as a sacrifice. Even Mr. Denison's book, "Beside the Bowery,"
insufficiently tells the full measure of her devotion for the thirteen
years she was at Sea and Land. Her last message to the trustees was:
"I died in harness." It was on March 14, 1908.

One of the men of that day was Edward Dowling. As a tinker he wandered
about distributing tracts, speaking the word in truth, and returning
during the winter to be factotum in the tower. I