Deacon Truman Minor, Rev. Geo. Richards, Rev. James Richards, D. D., Hon. Thomas H. Seymour, Edward W. Seymour, Esq., Rev. Henry B. Sherman, Rev. Thomas L. Shipman, Hon. Nathaniel B. Smith, Chas. A. Somers, Esq., Hon. Henry Stoddard, Rev. J. B. Stoddard, Rev. Robert G. Williams, Gen. William T Sherman." On the shaft above is the name, David J. Stiles. On the east side is the inscription, "Rev. Zechariah Walker, first pastor of ancient Woodbury, died Jan. 20th, 1699, in the 63d year of his age, and in the 36th of his ministry." At the foot of the monument is the ancient headstone, with this record:

ZECHARIAH

WALKER,

AGED 63,

DYED JAN. 20,

1699.

On the north side is the epitaph of Rev. Anthony Stoddard, the second pastor, who died Sept. 6th, 1760, in the 83d year of his age, and the 61st of his ministry; and on the west side is that of Rev. Noah Benedict, the third pastor, who died April 20th, 1813, in the 76th year of his age, and the 53d of his ministry. At the base, on the north side, is an old mill-stone, one of two small ones taken to Woodbury on horseback, two hundred years ago, from Stratford, with which they ground corn and meal for the whole settlement at the rate of one bushel per day.

The dedicatory exercises were very interesting and impressive, Rev. Thomas L. Shipman, of Jewett City, one of the contributors, opened the exercises with the following

DEDICATORY PRAYER.

O Thou, whose we are, and whom we would glorify in all our works begun, continued and ended; may Thy presence be with us and Thy blessing upon us on the occasion which has convened us in this place of graves. Thy servants have erected this monument before which we are assembled, to the memory of the forefathers of the ancient church whose history we have to-day recalled. Accept Thou this work of their hands and offering of their hearts. May this shaft long stand in remembrance of the men whose names are engraven upon it-though dead, they yet live by the influence of their ministry upon coming generations. Time may efface their

names from this monument of stone, but nothing shall ever efface their memory from the hearts of a grateful posterity. As we stand surrounded by the dead, impress upon our minds the thought that we shall soon be of them, and give us grace so to live and so to die, that to each of us the end of earth shall be the beginning of Heaven. Bless those who are to take part in the further services of this occasion. May what they shall speak be for Thy glory and for our good, and in all the solemnities and services of the day, may we be accepted through Jesus Christ our strength and our Redeemer. Amen.

ADDRESS OF DEDICATION.

BY WILLIAM COTHREN.

Ten years ago, as the curious antiquarian searched with reverent tread among the mossy mounds which surround us, on this consecrated hill, "beautiful for situation," in this loveliest of valleys, parting here and there the lank grass and tangled briars, he would have discovered that little head-stone of native rock, with its rude inscription, telling us the simple tale, that here rested all that remained on earth of the first father of the town, "ye faithfull, worthy, beloved Minister of the Gospell, and much lamented pastor of the Ch of Christ." One hundred and sixty times had the "dark brown years" passed over this consecrated spot, and this was all that remained to tell the numerous posterity of the fathers, who had been enriched and blest during all that long period by his faithful teachings, labors and sufferings-that here the ever-to-be-revered Walker had laid his armor down-that here he awaited in tranquil rest the final trump of God. Then, as now, grouped thickly around him, in like noteless graves, his faithful people were gathered-a hardy, noble race, that has, in the last two centuries, and especially in the living, whirling present, brought forth great and abundant fruit. There lies Deacon John Minor, the tried, the true, and the brave, ancestor, in the maternal line, of Gen. Grant, President of the United States. Connecticut,

through her Deacon Grant, of Windsor, and Deacon Minor, of Woodbury, claims a proud share in the fame of this distinguished man. Near Deacon Minor reposes all that was mortal of Deacon John Sherman, ancestor of the General of our armies, and Senator Sherman, of Ohio. Gen. Sherman's name appears on this monument as great-grandson of the immortal Stoddard, second pastor of this ancient church. The Mitchells, the Wheelers, the Curtisses, the Hurds, the Judsons-ministerial race-all the early revered names lie slumbering near, a goodly company, in their lonely, neglected graves-alas! too long neglected by their numerous descendants. Before me stands at this very moment so great a company of the lineal descendants of the first John Minor, deacon of the church, captain of the train band, interpreter to the Indians and justice of the quorum, that by contributing a mere trifle apiece, a greater and more expensive monument could be erected than this, which we now dedicate to the memory of the fathers. I charge you to-day to take immediate measures to erect a monument fit to commemorate the virtues of one of the most remarkable men in the early history of the colony. It is the duty of the hour for you.

No nobler company of men ever removed in a body into the solitudes and dangers of the wilderness, than these early fathers, who left their dwellings by the sea, to dare the perils and privations of the dim woods. They sought to plant here a pure and sublime faith. They labored to extend the kingdom of God. Is it wonderful, then, that their descendants should desire to erect an enduring monument to the sacred memory of such immortal ancestors, that it may stand forever as a remembrancer to their children to imitate the virtues and graces of their long buried sires, who have "entered into the rest that remaineth to the people of God?"

A little farther to the north stands the modest and dilapidated head-stone of the venerated Anthony Stoddard, second pastor of the church, who rests in the hope of a bright resurrection amid. the faithful flock to whom he ministered in "things spiritual" for the long period of more than sixty years. A step farther, and we are at the grave of the sainted Benedict. These three, a trio of worthies, full of prudence, piety and purity unsurpassed, "went out and in before the people " for the long period of one hundred and forty-three years. Such were our fathers, and such their claims on the reverence and the affections of their posterity, and

yet no monument had arisen to perpetuate a remembrance of their virtues ten years ago!

But the filial heart of the people could not endure a farther neglect of the reverence due the names of their sacred dead. Measures were taken for erecting a fitting monument to their memory. Starting with the theory that no material could be more fitting than the rugged native boulders from their own lands, among which they had wandered in life, the work went on with zeal. Good progress had been made, when the war of the rebellion broke out, and for more than seven dark, gloomy and bloody years, the work was suspended. In 1868, noble men came forward with their contributions, at home and abroad, and the work was commenced again with renewed vigor, and pushed to successful completion. It now stands before you, a rugged structure, 33 feet in height. It is like the character of our fathers, not artistically beautiful, but massive and immovable. It was erected at an expense of more than $1,500-and more than one-third of that amount was contributed by one individual.

A single duty yet remains, and we are here to perform it. We are here, a filial band, to dedicate it to the memory of the fathers. We come to this pleasing duty amid the joyous exercises of our bi-centennial jubilee, and in the two hundred and fiftieth year of Congregationalism in this country. The time is propitious. The skies are bright above us. The awakening vigor of Spring is apparent on every side. It is the fourth jubilee of our church, and the fifth of our order. And now, in such an auspicious hour, when our hearts are filled with joy and congratulations, we dedicate this monument to the memory of the fathers-to the memory of the noble men and women who lie sleeping in the moss-grown graves beneath our feet, resting sweetly and securely in the hope of a blessed immortality in the beautiful land beyond the far etherial blue," where the wicked cease from troubling, and the weary are at rest." We dedicate it to the memory of that pilgrim company, who left the father-land for the enjoyment of a purer gospel-who chose to endure all the privations of a pioneer life amid the perils of the wilderness, to establish freedom of thought for themselves and their children. We dedicate it to the heroic men, who could sing "amidst the storm,"

"And whom the stars heard and the sea!

While the sounding aisles of the dim woods rang

To the anthems of the free!"