The first winter proved the wisdom of the new enterprise. An interesting revival brought in a large number of new members, and it was not long before it became evident that the buildings were entirely inadequate. There was talk of rebuilding, when a fire, in January, 1849, settled the question by destroying the building. Plans for a new edifice were drawn, and after some months of worship in a temporary Tabernacle in Pierrepont Street, the present building was entered on the first Sunday of 1850.
It will readily be seen that it was a live church that I joined, and after half a century of experience and observation, I can only thank God that I was brought to connect myself with it. It was not merely the marvellous preaching of Mr. Beecher, which I feel helped me greatly; it was the whole atmosphere of aggressive work. The great audiences, crowding the pews so that aisle chairs had to be put in, was in itself an inspiration; so was also the fine music with John Zundel at the organ and the large choir leading the vast congregation. The cordial social atmosphere that made even a stranger feel at home also had its share, but more than all these put together, or perhaps better, manifest through all these, was the sense that church life was a means to an end, not an end in itself, and that that end was the building up of a true and noble Christian life in all its different phases. Surely no higher conception of a church's sphere can be found, and to this I believe to be due more than to any other one thing the power of Plymouth Church.
It was a little more than a year after I became a member of Plymouth Church that I began my work as an usher, and for fifty-three years I have been identified with Plymouth Church in that capacity. An usher has peculiar opportunities to study human nature, both individually and collectively. His first acquaintance is with the pewholders, and these he quickly learns to distinguish. Plymouth Church was remarkably hospitable from the first. The strangers within its gates usually outnumbered the regular membership, and they represented all classes and conditions of men, but not more representative were they than the company of those who were the constant attendants on its services--the relied-upon supporters of its enterprises. It was not a wealthy congregation. There were a few men of means; excepting possibly Claflin, Bowen, Sage, Hutchinson, Storrs, Arnold, Graves, Corning, Healy, Bush, Benedict, Dennis, there were no merchant princes or princely bankers. The greater number were earnest, aggressive men who had something to do in life besides make money. Generous whenever generosity was needed, they were for the most part what are called "hard-headed" business men. They were in Plymouth Church, not because it was fashionable to be there, or because it had the most noted pastor in America, if not in the world, but because they were in sympathy with its purpose and the purpose of its pastor, and felt that there they could best serve their day and generation.