tering the flock, a goodlier vision
than that of Rebecca appeared at the well's mouth, and the sweet
sunshine of that presence has never departed from the pathway of my
life. To this hour the prosaic old capital of New Jersey has a halo of
poetry floating over it, and I never go through it without waving a
benediction from the passing train.

The next stage of my life's work was a seven years' pastorate of Market
Street Church in the city of New York. To those seven years of hard and
happy labor I look back with joy. The congregation swarmed with young
men, many of whom have risen to prominence in the commercial and
religious life of the great metropolis. The name of Market Street is
graven indelibly on my heart. I rejoice that the quaint old edifice
still stands and welcomes every Sabbath a congregation of landsmen and
of sailors. During the year 1858 occurred the great revival, when a
mighty wind from Heaven filled every house where the people of God were
sitting, and the glorious work of that revival kept many of us busy for
six months, night and day.

Early in the year 1860 a signal was made to me from this side of the
East River. It came from a brave little band then known as the Park
Presbyterian Church, who had never had any installed pastor. The signal
at first was unheeded; but a higher than human hand seemed to be behind
it, and I had only to obey. That little flock stood like the man of
Macedonia, saying, "Come over and help us," and after I had seen the
vision immediately I decided to come, assuredly concluding that God had
called me to preach the Gospel unto them.

This morning my memory goes back to that chilly, stormy April Sunday
when my labors began as your first pastor. About two hundred and fifty
people, full of grace and grit, gathered on that Easter morning to see
how God could roll away stones that for two years had blocked their path
with discouragement. My first message many of you remember. It was, "I
determined not to know anything among you save Jesus Christ and Him
crucified." Of that little company the large majority has departed. Many
of them are among the white-robed that now behold their risen Lord in
glory. Of the seventeen church officers--elders, deacons and
trustees--then in office, who greeted me that day, only four are living,
and of that number only one, Mr. Albion P. Higgins, is now a member of
this congregation. I wonder how many there are here this morning that
gathered befor