k%J *- ''''" aV '^/^>1^- .0^. ^^"- ^' IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) ^.5 I.C I.I i^iai Mil IIIM in IM [2.2 1.8 1.25 1.4 1.6 •m sj ► ^ '/] % // w ^*^ ^'^ ,^''' ^ .'■>■■ ^m r<;5'y ^1^ # O / Photographic Sciences Corporation 23 WEST MAIN STRSCT WEBSTER, h'Y 14580 (716) 872-4503 ^ i" C?. .eaven, where sTe!i tt l •"'■ ""^ ^""^ °" '° ^"ch a remembrance ff ll "'°''- ' ''^^^ °"'y clouds often years allfi:" '°" ''^^ "^ "-e caught by iniaam,,^ ?'''''^"^'cent,andyet have heard "hf "a 'db;"f '^'^ by that which and feeling of h w rt ft S' '"' ''""^'^ "'""^^t to nie that no dev^t CatLl '° ^' =° "'"='' in the Virgin Mary as ih '^"' ''* =° ""ch who has bfen a presen L to" '''" " "^ '"°"'^'-' remember. And I can n "' '"'' ''""' ' «n woman for my mother', sake r ""^ .^"°ugh for for the sake of them tha, h u"'^ '"'"'' ^^ke, of n,y infancy Z^'lZlftr' '" ''^ ""'' what they have internr^.T ' '" '""'"rn for ems can ever measure th^ , ^''"^"an par- wWch he owes ^0^^^'°^ ''^ f -''"'^e notonlytoolccareofhin K "'°"'cr that meant when He sa d r"f ' '"'" "''''' "« heaven.- How pow Ij'Jlf,^''''^'-- .^''o art in fluence. then, of the tru h ° ^ ^' '*'''"' '"■ 'f'-s opening portion of *Lol"'' "'''^"' '" ">at it could have been so [n h'^"- " " ^^^ oeen so m days past! My 34 HENRY WARD BEECilER. P li! I! Hi mother died when I was but a small child, and I do not remember to have ever seen her face. And as there was no pencil that could afford to limn her, I have never seen a likeness of her. Would to God that' I could see some picture of my motlier. No picture that hangs on prince's wall, or in gal- lery, would I not give, if I might choose, for a faithful portrait of my mother. Give me that above all other pictures under God's canopy." All testimony goes to show that as a boy Beecher was fond of out-door sports, that his exuberant nature, his sturdy, healthful physique, sought vent in exercise of extr'^.mest vigor. To plunge in the pool, to buffet with the water, to race across the fields, to slide full-tilt down the great hills in winter time, to climb trees and shake the chestnut boughs, to romp and frolic and wrestle with his companions, to do everything that a bright-eyed, strong and happy boy could do, these were the simple incidents which, com- bined, led him through his youthful day and gave him full enjoyment of nature's sweet restorer in the night. Those were the days of flogging, of dark closets, of penitential abstinence from food; those were the days when fathers emphasized the rigor of parental law with a frowning face and a hickory switch. No wonder that this many-sided boy, with an affectionate nature, full of loving im- pulses, mischievous, up to all sorts and kinds of boyish tricks, fond of a joke, quick to take a point. HENRY WARD BEECHER. 35 ildo ndas i her, Id to 3ther. I gal- for a 5 that y-" 1 boy at his ^sique, r. To Iter, to Nn the I shake and ything could 1, com- d gave )rer in ng, of food; ed the and a -sided |ng im- ids of point, ic developed somewhat moodily. He was not an apt student of books ; very few boys of that age are ; but he did study his father's face, he did curiously scan the shadows in his mother's eyes. In speaking of his father in one of his sermons, Mr. Beccher said : " I recollect that, when a child, I mistook his appearance, when talking with per- sons that came to see him, as inconsistent with his after-state of feeling when they had gone away. I did not understand simple prudence ; and it looked as though father was one thing be- fore their faces and another thing behind their backs. It distressed m^ exceedingly. Except in that one instance, a cloud or a shadow never passed over my mind with regard to my father's integrity. I believed it impossible for him to think an untruth, and still less possible for him to tell one. And my mother was the law of purity and the law of honor. Therefore, I did not need much teaching on these subjects." What a volume in that simple sentence ! Some years ago Mr. Beecher was asked to give some reminiscences of his early life, and he did so in the portraiture which is reproduced here as the best obtainable photograph. " My dear mother — not she that gave me birth, but she that brought me up ; she that did the office-work of a mother, if ever a mother did ; she that, according to her ability, performed to the uttermost her duties — was a woman of profound veneration, 56 HENRY WARD BEECH ER. ana : m 'im rather than of a warm and loving nature. There- fore, her prayer was invariably a prayer of deep, yearning reverence. I remember well the im- pression which it made on me. There was a mystic influence about it. A sort of sympathetic hold it had on me ; but still, I always^ felt, when I went to prayer, as though I was going into a crypt, where the sun was not allowed to come; and I shrunk from it. " The prayer of a poor man on my father's farm was of precisely the opposite character, and im- pressed me in precisely the opposite way. He used alternatively to pray and sing and laugh, pray and sing and laugh, pray and sing and laugh. He had a little room, in one corner of which I had a little cot ; and I used to lie and see him attend to his devotions. They were a regular thing. Every night he would set his candle at the head of his bed and pray and sing and laugh. And I bear record that his praying made a profound impression upon my mind. I never thought whether it was right or v. rong. I only thought, ' How that man does enjoy it ! What enjoyment there must be in such prayer as his ! ' I gained from that man more of an idea of the desirable- ness of prayer than I ever did from my father or mother. My father was never an ascetic ; he had no sympathy with anything of a monkish tenden- cy ; and yet this poor man, more than he, led me to see that there should be real overflowing glad- HENRY WARD BEECHER. 37 Ly thini ness and thanksgiving in prayer. I learned to envy Charles Smith, although I was a hundred degrees higher than he in society. I learned to feel that I was the pauper and he was the rich man. I would gladly have changed situations with him, if by so doing I could have obtained his grace and his hope of heaven. I believe he rejoices in heaven now. " My mother — she who. In the providence of God, took me into her hear^ when my own mother had gone to see her Father in heaven — she who came after, and was most faithful to the charge of the children in the household — she often took me, and prayed with me, and read me the Word of God, and expounded to me the way of duty, and did all that seemed to her possible, I know, to make it easy for me to become a religious child ; and yet there have been times when I think it would have been easier for me to lay my hand on a block, and have it struck off, than to open ,my thoughts to her, when I longed to open them [to some one. How often have I started to go to ler and tell her my feelings, when fear has caused pme to sheer off, and abandon my purpose. My mind would open like a rose-bud, but, alas, fear would hold back the blossom. How many of my early religious pointings fell like an over-drugged rose-bud, without a blossom. " My father used to make me believe that the end of the rod that he held in his hand was a :!W| II i ; I 111 i.i III Ill Miiiilij i! ' liilll lllni HUM 38 HENRY WARD BEECHER. great deal more painful to him than the end which I felt was to me. It was a strange mystery to me, but I did believe it ; and it seemed a great deal worse to me to be whipped on that account. I used to think that if he would not talk to me, but would whip me, I could stand it a good deal better. So I could have stood it better, and not been bene- fited. For a child is not whipped till the sensation goes to the heart and touches the feeling. But when my father made me cry by talking to me, and then whipped me, and then made me cry by talking to me again, I thought it was too bad. And yet it was the right way. *' I think, as I look back and reflect upon the special acts which brought me into discipline, that, though perhaps I had better been punished, for nine out of ten of them I was not really to blame. I do not mean that there was not a certain element of wrong in them ; but, considering how little a child knows, how weak and imperfect his reason is, what is the force of social sympathy upon him, and how liable he is to mistakes in judgment, I do not think much blame could have been attached to me. " I recollect being banished from the gallery in my father's church, to sit in which was the height of my ambition. The pews were square. My father's was right under the pulpit. I did not, I believe, more than once or twice, see my father in the pulpit till I was of age and had gone away from hich me, deal t. 1 ;, but gtter. bene- iation But o me, :ry by And on the e, that, ed, for iblame. ement ittle a reason n him, t,ldo tached |lery in [height My ll not, I Ither in ly from HENRY WARD BEECHER. 39 home, because we had the minister's pew, In which I was always compelled to sit. The top of it was a foot higher than my head, and the sides were as straight' as a plummet could make them. And, sitting there, I was expected to listen to the ser- mon, and hear every word, from a man I could not see ! And when I put my hands up, some little rollers that were attached to the pew would make a noise. It was the only agreeable sound that I recollect in those days to have heard in the sanctuary. " I remember perfectly well, when I was thus brought up in that inland village, and in that inland church, with a kind of mechanical government ex- tending over me, all my sensations, all my little' thoughts, all the litde ranges of imagination through which my mind passed ; and judging from them, from my own children, and from the children of my parish, I cannot but feel that of the faults that I committed, the greatest number of them were such as were inevitable to my time of life, and to the development that had taken place in my moral constitution, and that they did not indi- cate obliquity or depravity at all in the worse sense of the term, but simply and merely inex- perience. Yet I was sometimes punished for them. •' For instance, after having been imprisoned in that pew for a long time, I desired to sit with the singers. My mother, in a day of unexpected M I nifi i 'i 40 HENRY WARD BEECHER. :m. grace, gave me permission, with many and multi- plied charges of proper conduct; and I went into the gallery with all the virtue of a dozen deacons, determined to behave well, and to earn the right of sitting there. Yes, men and angels should see that I conducted myself becomingly. But as I sat there, a martyr of propriety, on a hard seat, one of the roguish boys of the neighborhood gave me a shove, and pushed me off on the floor and tore my coat. When I went home the hole in my coat was espied, and my mother said, ' Henry, how came that hole there ? ' I resolved in my mind what I should say. I wanted to tell her that it was not my fault; and I thought I used the words that would convey that idea when I said, ' Oh, mother, it was done in fun.' I did not know what the meaning of fi n was ; but I found out ! and I was not allowed for years afterward to go into that gallery where in fun I had torn my coat, though there was not a person in the church that put forth half the effort that I did to behave. And it was only my want of a knowledge of language that brought me into disgrace. " I remember being very mad once, when I we ' a boy. I went out to the south side of the house, and, unable to hold in any longer, I said 'damn it ! ' In a minute the sky looked to me like copper. I thought that my soul was gone forever. The idea that I had sworn produced a terrible impression upon me. It was the first time I had ever done it. ^ T IT HENRY WARD BEECHER. 41 mlti- into cons, right d see ; as 1 seat, [ gave )r and ole in rlenry, in my er that ied the 1 said, t know id out ! to go ly coat, •ch that And guage nj 1 1 we- house, ' damn :opper. ^he idea )ression I done it. I was brought up to look upon profanity with utter abhorrence, and I was frightened almost out of my wits. I really expected that the house would fall on me, or that the earth would open and let me down. In my terror I started to run, and I clipped it to the ' itchen quicker than I had ever done it before. The sweat stood out on me in great drops. I felt the shock all over. " I very well remember going back, after having arrived at years of manhood, to the school-house where I did not receive my early education. I measured the stones which, in my childhood, it seemed that a giant could not lift, and I could almost turn them over with my foot ! I measured the trees which seemed to loom up to the sky, wondrously large, but they had shrunk, grown shorter, and outspread narrower. I looked into the old school-house, and how small the whittled benches and the dilapidated tables were, compared with my boyhood impression of them ! I looked over the meadows across which my little toddling feet had passed. They had once seemed to me to be broad fields, but now, but narrow ribbons lying between the house and the water. I mar- velled at the apparent change which had taken place in these things, and thought what a child I must have been when they seemed to me to be things of great importance. The school-ma'am — oh, what a being I thought she was! and the school- master — how awe-struck I was at his presence! iiiiiiiii ;,iini|< l< ■I'iiiii iiiij |i 1 li II II '!: ■ illiil '. hilM 42 HENRY WARD BEECHER. So looking and wistfully remembering, I said to myself ' Well, one bubble has broken.' But when you shall stand above, and look back with celestial and clarified vision upon this world — this rickety old school-house, earth — it will seem smaller to you, than to me that old village school." ' Aside from the rude teachings of a country school, Henry learned all he knew of books — un- til he entered Amherst College in 1830, when he was seventeen years old — in a private school in the town of Bethlehem, where instruction amounted to little more than a permit to swim in the brooks and romp in the fields, and in his sisters* school in Hartford, where there were forty girls and no other boy beside himself. He got most of his instruction at home. His father's house was the head-quarters of theologi- cal disputation, and many a batde was waged across the hospitable board, while big-eyed chil- dren listened to that which no one could exolain. Modest and retiring in his manner, Henry re- garded attentively the teachings of his step- mother ; but the one result in those days was to plant the seed of wonder and inquisitiveness, which grew up and bore marvellous fruit in later days. A brief period in the Boston Latin School prepared Henry Ward for college, and he entered without trouble. The obtainable record of his experience there does not show brilliantly nor compare favorably with that of scores of men HENRY WARD BEECHER. 43 •who have Uved unnoticed and died unsung. In mathematics alone he was proficient, a fact which stands out clearly and strangely when it is re- membered that in later life he was a perfect child in figures, and could never keep the simplest ac- count with any degree of accuracy. In public references to these days of endeavor, Mr. Beecher often said that he owed his inspiration for manly living to three persons — his dead mother, whose spirit seemed ever near him as a guardian angel ; a negro servant, who chopped wood and sung hymns in his father's shed ; and the professor of mathematics in Amherst College. He did not study hard in college. He much preferred the excitement of debates, the cheer of the river through the meadows, the singing of birds, and out-door sports, in which he was an adept. That he was a natural, born orator is unquestioned, but his shyness so thoroughly controlled him that, when a student for a brief [time in Mount Pleasant, just before he entered [college, his teacher was compelled to reason, plead and almost use force with him to induce him to *' speak a piece " in the presence of his fel- lows. Gradually that bashfulness wore away, and when he entered college he brought the repu- tation of a ready and graceful speaker. At that early age he had acquired a taste for physical and physiological science. He was fond of read- ing in a desultory way, and although his habits SI ■I!! Illlll '^'piiiiiiiii 44 HENRY WARD BEECIIER. were not formed and his tastes were crude, he made the acquaintance of classic writers whose sturdy and vigorous English was to him at once an object of admiration and a lesson. His class- mates recall his mastery in debate, and say that he had a power of ridicule and badinage that made him always a powerful advocate and a for- midable antagonist. Although in maturer life he avoided controversies and taught the largest liberty in thought and action, while pursuing his studies both in college and seminary he was quick to accept the gauntlet of discussion, and prone to start a train of thought that was certain to provoke a challenge. Referring to the facility with which illustrations fell from his lips, Mr. Beecher once said, *• I have always thought in figures of speech." On one occasion he spoke of peace with a " diamond sceptre " in her hand. A reporter asked if that was what he meant, as, of course, there was " no such thing as a diamond sceptre." " I don't care," replied Mr. Beecher ; " I guess I know what I saw." In other words, the pictures he so glowingly described were for the moment realities to him. It was so with him at an early period of his life, and the visions that frightened him in his boyish dreams became most potent weapons in his hands in later years. There seems to be no difference of opinion as to his development in college. He had, the year before, under the impulse of HENRY WARD BEECHER. 45 le, he vhose ; once class- y that e that a for- life he largest ng his le was )n, and certain facility s, Mr. ight in spoke hand, ant, as, iamond echer ; words, ere for th him ns that e most Inion as lulse of a great revival, joined his father's church, and fell easily into the rut of family expectation, that he, like all the Beechers, must become a minister. A letter from Dr. Field, of Amherst College, who was a classmate of Mr. Beecher in Amherst, opens the door to speculation, and suggests that the comparatively late development of the great preacher might have been materially hastened had he been more thoroughly understood. This is the letter : "Amherst, September 13, 1881. " Students, you know, are not looking at their classmates much with reference to their future, and do not treasure up particular facts in expec* tation of their fame. We knew very well that Beecher was a man of superior mental powers ; but I cannot say that we anticipated that he would reach the position he has attained. I entered the class of '34 in the beginning of the sophomore year. Beecher was then a member of it. I knew he was Dr. Lyman Beecher's son. That fact at once made him a marked man. For Dr. [Beecher was the great preacher at that time of 'New England, and indeed the greatest pulpit orator in the country. " I first felt Beecher's power in the class prayer- meeting. At the first meeting I attended Beecher was present and made an exhortation on the duty of laboring for a revival of religion in the fall term. There had been, I think, a revival in 46 HENRY WARD BEECHER. iliPli !' the previous spring term. He thought it wrong to suppose there could not be a revival again so soon. I was struck with the fluency of his speech, with the earnest Christian feeling, and with the power and impressiveness with which he spoke. His extemporaneous speech, even when he was a Btudent, was always able and eloquent. " 1 was not impressed with his recitations at all. Indeed I knew very well that he had no desire, and made no effort to be a good recitative scholar. He always argued against the study of mathematics, maintaining that it afforded no good discipline for the mind, and gave himself, as it was understood, more to general reading than to the prescribed course of study, because he thought that was the best way to cultivate the mind. "In the rhetorical department, however, he always showed his power. We were required at that time to write many more essays than the students of the present day do. When we were sophomores, we had to prepare an essay for the professor of rhetoric each fortnight. We came together one hour every week, to hear the essays read, or as many of them as there would be time to hear. I very well remember the first essay I heard Beecher read. It was on Pollok's ' Course of Time,' a poem which was then av/akening much interest among orthodox scholars. Beecher instituted a comparison between Pollok and Mil- o ti HENRY WARD BEECHER. 47 vrong lin so Deech, :h the ipoke. was a at all. desire, :itative udy of ed no iself, as g than jse he ite the er, he ired at an the e were [or the came essays )e time ;ssay !ourse Ikening [eecher d Mil- T ton, maintaining substantially, if I recollect right, that Pollok was the better poet. The essay was very interesting and well written. Mr. Beecher would be far, I doubt not, from entertaining any such opinion now ; but the fact shows that he was not in the habit then of thinking in the beaten track. I think the essay was published afterwards in one of our leading college period- icals. " I remember that Beecher was greatly inter- ested while in college in phrenology, and I think that he gave lectures with Orson Fowler, one of our classmates (and who has since become dis- tinguished as a phrenologist), in some of the country towns in the neighborhood. Mr. Beecher, I have the impression, did the lecturing and Mr. Fowler made the examinations of heads. " Beecher was interested, even in college, in matters of reform. I think he was then decidedly anti-slavery in his views, and * totally abstinent,* in opinion and practice, in respect to the use of [ardent spirits. He had then, as he has always lad since, a decided vein of humor and love of 1?^fun, and one would often see on the chapel steps i a large number of fellows around Beecher, when there would be sure to be continuous roars of laughter. " But I do not remember any particular witty sayings, though there were doubtless many which might have been preserved if we had supposed HENRY WARD BEECHER. they would have been wanted for a biographer in the future. Truly yours, "Tugs. P. Field." The doubts and fears wl * ' were born in the wide-awake nature of this I j, developed by the Calvinistic teaching of his father and the gravity of his mother's mien at all times were as much part and parcel of his make-up as were the ex- ternalities of his physique. To them, to his desire to attain the right to understand the unattaina- ble, rather than to caprice or instability, must be credited the evolutionary ideas, thrown out so freely during the latter portion of his ministry. Why, even here in his eighteenth year, while a boy in college, he was in tl ark. The doctrine of Christ, Uiv octrine of Christ's love, the doctrine of God the Father overflowing with the love of a father toward his children, good or bad, which permeated his preaching from his earliest years to his last, and never so significantly as in the last, was something of which the boy had never heard, and which the young man in college longed for with unutterable longings, although in ignorance of what he wished. When it came, it changed the world. When it came, all nature assumed a different look. Read what he says of it himself: " I was a child of teaching and of prayer; I was reared in the iaiiii HENRY WARD BEECHER. 49 ler in »• ,D. in the Dy the ravity much he ex- desire ttaina- ust be out so stry. while a 'hrist's lowing J, good rom his icantly ^oy had :ollege >ugh in liferent la child lin the household of faidi ; I knew the catechism, as it was taught; I was instructed in the Scriptures as they were expounded from the pulpit and read by men ; and yet, till after I was twenty-one years old, I groped without the knowledge of God in Christ Jesus. I know not what the tablets of eternity have written down, but I think that when I stand in Zion and before God, the brightest thing which I shall look back upon will be that blessed morning of May, when it pleased God to reveal to my wandering soul the idea that it was His nature to love a man in his sins for the sake of helping him out of them ; that He did not do it out of compliment to Christ, or to a law, or a plan of salvation, but from the fulness of His great heart; that He was a Being not made mad by sin, but sorry; that He was not furious with wrath toward the sinner, but pitied him ; in short, that He felt toward me as my mother felt toward me, to whose eyes my wrong-doings brought tears; who never pressed me so close to her as when I had done wrong, and who would fain, with her yearning love, lift me out of trouble. And when I found that Jesus Christ had such a disposition, and that when His disciples did wrong He drew them closer to Him than He did before ; and when pride, and jealousy, and rivalry, and all vulgar and worldly feelings rankled in their bosoms. He opened his heart to them as a medicine to heal these infirmities ; when I found that it was Christ's i 60 HENRY WARD BEECHER. nature to lift men out of weakness into strength, out of impurity to goodness, out of everthing low and debasing to superiority, I felt that 1 had found a God. " I shall never forget the feelings with which I walked forth that May morning. "The golden pavements will never feel to my feet as then the grass felt to them ; and the sing- inof of the birds in the woods — for I roamed in the woods — was cacophonous to the sweet music of my thoughts; and there were no forms in the universe which seemed to me graceful enough to represent the Being, a conception of whose character had just dawned upon my mind. I felt, when I had, with the Psalmist, called upon the heavens, the earth, the mountains, the streams, the floods, the birds, the beasts, and universal being to praise God, that I had called upon nothing that could praise Him enough for the revelation of such a nature as that in the Lord Jesus Christ. "Time went on, and next came the disclosure of a Christ ever present with me — a Christ that never was far from me, but was always near me, as a companion and friend, to uphold and sustain me. This was the last and best revelation of God's Spirit to my soul. It is what I consider to be the culminating work of God's grace in a man; and no man is a Christian until he has experi- enced it. I do not mean that a man cannot be a HENRY WARD BEECHER. 51 ength, icr low . found /hich 1 to my e sing- \ in the lusic of in the ough to whose nind. 1 :d upon treams, niversal jd upon for the le Lord Isclosure •ist that lear me, sustain Ltion of Isider to a man; experi- lot be a good man till then ; but he has not got to Jerusa- lem till the gate has been opened to him, and he has seen the King sitting in His glory, with love to him individually. It is only when the soul measures itself down deep, and says : 'I am all sel5sh, and proud, and weak, and easy to be tempted to wrong. I have a glimmering sense of the right, and to-day I promise God that 1 will follow it ; but to-morrow I turn the promise into sin. To-day I lift myself up with resolutions, but to-morrow I sink down with discouragement. There is nothing in me that is good. From the crown of my he^d to the soles of my feet, I am full of wounds and bruises and putrefying sores * — it is onlv when the soul measures itself thus, and when it sees rising up against this conviction of ts own unworthiness the Divine declarations, * I ave loved thee ; I am thy God ; I have called hee by my name ; thou art mine ; and I will be hy salvation ' — it is only then that a man has assed through death to life, from darkness to light, from sorrow to joy." After leaving college in 1834, which he did without any marked honors or reputation, Beecher entered Lane Seminary, near Cincinnpti, Ohio, where his venerable father was president. His vocation had then been decided or Tn fact, good old Lyman Beecher, who was then \/aging fierce Presbyterian batde with characteristic vigor, had known from the first that Henry was to be a cler- m ■ 52 HENRY WARD BEECIIER. gyman. Indeed, that any son of his should be anything but a minister had never entered the old gentleman's mind. All his sons were brought up with the knowledge that they were foreordained to be clergymen, and although two of them, Henry and James, had for a time other views in life, they eventually joined hands with the rest. In the seminary Henry made a deep impression on the faculty and his fellow-s*:udents by his oratori- cal excelle.ice. His father was surprised that he took so little interest in the battle of the Presby- terians, and looked with some doubt on the future usefulness of his son. Nevertheless he was proud of his abilities and did all he could to ground him in the faith of his fathers. This was a difficult task, and caused the old gentleman many an anxious night, for to him the doctrines were firm and steadfast, and any questioning that tended to unsettle them, or any one of them, w:::s heresy a little less than blasphemy. Heresy or not, blasphemous or not, the ques- tions came unbidden. Here it was that mighty problems wrestled for supremacy in his mind. Here it was that in vain he attempted to separate the antagonists, that he might solve the one and the other to the satisfaction of his conscience. The seed which subsequently bore superb fruit, and made his Plymouth pastorate a rose blossom- ing in the great desert of agnosticism, began to nestle in the warmth of his heart. It was impos- £-■■ •' uld be the old ight up -dained them, iews in est. In sion on oratori- that he Presby- e future s proud 11 nd him difficult lany an re firm ded to leresy a ques- mighty mind, eparate ne and science, b fruit, ossom- ;gan to impos- p;vj^Vi\i;\TO;>v--. !'• ' vN^Virw- HENRY WARD BEECHER AT TWENTY- FIVE, i! c t n ni H si he Pc de lo^ fill hin dee Irefi [sen Igoo HENRY WARD BEECHER. 55 sible for the young man, filled with love for his fellows, to accept, without a murmur at least, the character of his Heavenly Father as pictured by venerable divines, who quibbled among them- selves as to the minor concerns of spiritual life, the details of ordinance and the refinement of procedure, while agreeing upon the solid, funda- mental rock of predestination and foreordination to everlasting peace or eternal punishment. But Henry entertained a wholesome fear of his father. He disliked more than anything to ap- pear for an instant to traverse the paternal belief, or oppose his father's will ; to add an atom of dis- tress to one bearing himself so gallantly in the midst of a conflict so terrible. So he pondered alone. In the watches of the night his mind went out searching for new light. His great heart, surcharged with an honest de- sire to do what was right, what was fair, what was honest, literally bled as it pushed from point to ' point seeking a rest that was not obtainable. Is it difficult to imagine Henry Ward Beecher depressed ? Not for those who knew him and loved him. Not for those who watched and care- fully studied him. Not for those who companioned him with comradic fidelity through the vales and deep depths of trouble in later years. That very refinement of temperament, that nicety of moral sense, that great-heartedness looking toward the good of his fellow-man, high or low, rich or poor, '^^'^ I ill!: 56 HENRY WARD BEECHER. which maae him so tremendous a force in vital affairs, made him also a victim of melancholia. He was subject to periods of brooding. He wondered, he discussed with himself as he walked the streets, as he sailed the ocean, as he lay upon the green sward of his Peekskill home. Just so he did when a young man, and it may be doubted if, in the stormy cycles of his later life, when the very tree of his existence seemed likely to be torn ruthlessly from its home by the roots and thrown out upon the broad current of a reck- less stream, he suffered as much, as keenly and as intensely as he did in the early day of his out- reaching toward light, when as a student his moral nature, asserting itself, rebelled against the teaching of his father and the old school philoso- phers. What did he do ? He did what all men do in times of perplexity. He sought change ; he endeavored, when over- come by doubts and fears, and perplexed by problems he could not solve, to change the cur- rent of his thought into other channels. Already a good speaker, with ideas, oppor- tunity was offered him to write for an anti-slavery paper in Cincinnati, and it was just his luck to strike that line of work at a time when the country was wild with excitement, when the whole nation was in arms, one side or other of the slavery line; and Ohio, as well as all the then "boundary States," m HENRY WARD BEECHER. 57 )lexity. over- Led by le cur- I oppor- ilavery luck to pountry nation Iryline; I was tumultuous and prone to riot. Full of vigor- ous enthusiasm he jumped into the arena well equipped, but not well disciplined, and fought with all the eagerness of a new recruit making his mark, so that he quickly became recognized as a foremost soldier in the army of which he subse- quendy was an honored leader. But was that plan successful? Partially, but not entirely. It was not until his brother-in-law, the vener- able Calvin E. Stowe, took him in hand and en- abled him, as Mrs. Stowe says, to " present Jesus Christ personally as the friend and helper of humanity, Christ as God impersonate, eternal, and by a necessity of his nature helpful and remedial and restorative ; the friend of each indi- vidual soul, and thus the friend of all society," that the door was opened through which he entered upon a ministry to close only with his life, a min- istry on which his soul rested as the worthiest possible object of his constant endeavor. 4 II. HIS WESTERN PASTORATE. i!li THAT any son of Lyman Beecher could remain long uncalled to a pastorate was not then likely. So in 1837, when he was twenty-four years of age, Henry Ward Beecher became the pastor of an Independent Presby- terian Church in Lawrenceburg, Ind. He had previously met, wooed, won and married Miss Eunice Bullard, a daughter of Rev. Dr. Bullard, a lady slightly older than himself. Miss Bullard was well born and bred, as the children of Presbyterian clergymen generally are. To an unusually acute wit she united physical and emotional power of rare development. Her energetic nature was a needed complement to the careless dreaminess of the young preacher, and in all his early life she was the spur and director of his affairs. Children followed in quick succession, as they did in the family of Dr. Lyman Beecher ; poor pay, hard work, cheap living, constant drudgery did their duty, and be- fore middle age was reached the wife was appar- ently worn out, and became a nervous, fitful woman. (58) HENRV WARD BEECHER AT FORTY. tl sa HENRY WARD BEECIIER ^7Pa'h,-.ng pastrhe :aror"'°"^'- ^ ^ made himself fe] %T ' ''^" ^"^"^^^ and he great, the flush ot ''^"°"^' -"^gnetism was veins, and Cii/jZ'Z '7"' ^^^ '" "is neighborhood to such // ""'^ ''°"=^ <"■ "is '■•on of a wider circle w^ ^^'■^' "'^' ">« ^"en- ^^"ed to take 71^0^'"- ''''''"'' "^^ ^-^ Indianapolis, the capital of X ^T '^'""'^ '"^ narrowly escaped b'eing swi Ltd ,T "^^^ "« and very different track A °" ^"°">*^r projected and a suoerin, j"^"' ''^''^^'^ "-as ^!'°-n. A bank presS 1 "' "'^ '° l"- ch.ef directors, hadVeen IreaTl ° ""' °"^ °'" '''^ go^^'head manner and zeflol,""^'^'''^ ^y*^ and, concluding that he ! y"""? Parson, ''"-'■■"•es that would make H" ^°'''==^'' °' ""= road oflScial, proposed hi ' '^""'"'^ «"- was close; Beecher lost K """'• ^''" ~"'^-«' 'he railroad interest of I °w "°'^' ^"^ *us f^- d'Vace of pull /Lm . f "^= ^P-^^^ fcrm the man who has 7r. ^ ^"'erican plat- "'a' platform famou. °"' *' "'°=' 'o m'Lke Of his pastorate in L aw,-»„ i, =ays: "Where I first sertll^^ ^'•- ^^^^er g-"nd was low and su t '" '"' '"'■"''^"■y '"e subject to overflow, some- !i! I III 62 HENRY WARD BEECHER. times from the Big Miami, scmetimes from the Ohio, and sometimes from both. The houses that were built in the early days of poverty were low ; and generally twice a year, in the autumn, and in the spring when the snow melted on the mountains, the Ohio came boom- ing down and overflowed, and men were obliged to emigrate. They found themselves driven out of their houses. Their cellars were submerged, and frequently the lower stories of their dwell- ings would fill with water, and they betook them- selves to the table-land, a little back, in boats. "I go back now to my ministry. I have got to begin to ^alk about myself as an old man, before long. J have been, thus far, talking as though I were young, but I find that I am remembering back too far for that, when I go back to the time when I first became the pastor of a church. It was twenty years ago. I re- member that the flock which I first gathered in the wilderness consisted of twenty persons. Nineteen of them were women, and the other was nothing. I remember the days of our poverty, our straitness. I was sexton of my own church at that time. There were no lamps there, so I bought some ; and I filled them and lit them. I swept the church, and lighted my own fire. I did not ring the bell, because there was none to ring. I opened the church before prayer-meetings and preaching, and locked it when they were over. HENRY WARD BEECHER. those faces ? I ,|,i„u"?' '^<="«'"ber every one of among them that did not I! ""u •''"' '*° P^'^°"' -'-' work; JICZV '''"'''''"S^y y- only in moderate 01!?'%" """'"'y' "^^y "" poor together. And toT ?"'''• ^' *-« ""er shall forget one ofTh f ^ "^ ""^ ''^^"' I of ".ose names%oke„ i th /r^'^' ""^ ^'^^^ °"« my -ind the warmest ;emlK '""^' ""^"^'l '" ''>- I venerate, and ^ m "'"' ^"""^ "^ t:s;-;r''--:^rr;o:r;:t -^ rLTinTlo-^^^^ -■•-^^^^^ °^ '•'^ town acade^r^;;, /^^ ^^^""^ ^'-V Beecher he was accorded a co' T" °^ ^y"^" f"f « was not iongere he wt '^ "' '^^'~""^. '°-d for his indi^dual merif "'^^-"^^ -^ fol- "ere too, in a sense, he be^-an , i- Hitherto he had been Lm ''^^• --onary, and mde d h ^L^f " '"" ' ''"'"^ benefiaary on the books of tie Ho' 'T "'"'^ ^ ' So<^'ety. His entire ;„ ""^ Missionary -finally, and pa« of thaTJ ""• '^^^ "'='" i^aoo' toes and otherVoducts 1^'''" ''" '^°^"' Po^a- "-ded a house^o I vl ° h*\''° '• "^^-^ he "-e..^horsaidedhi;r,„^ritt^^^^^ 04 HENRY WARD BEECHER. 1. wash and paint he attended to himself. The rapidity with which his children followed each other and the malarial condition of the section in which he lived broke down the strong constitution of his faithful wife, and, as they were unable to pay a servant, threw on him the domestic drudg- ery. He chopped the wood, drew the water, peeled the potatoes, cooked the food, served it, washed the dishes and cleaned up the house. When sickness necessitated frequent washings of soiled clothes, it was he who did the work. Part of the time he did double duty, and rode twenty milc3 through the woods and across the prairies to the log school-house in which service was held, preached, rode back again, cooked the dinner, preached in his own church, returned to nurse his sick wife and attend to the children, got the supper and spent the evening in the prayer- meeting. At times he was so poor that an un- paid letter, on which eighteen or twenty cents were due, remained in the post-office with news from the East, uncalled for because he did not have the money with which to pay the postage. Added to the poverty of his pocket, the in- cessant drain of his sympathy at home, the con- tinuous necessity of physical toil in the house, the garden and the wood-slied, and the preparation of his sermons, was a doubt, an uncertainty in his beliefs. The litde cloud, small as a man's hand, that frightened him when a boy. made him P' M HENRY WARD BEECHER. 65 gloomy when in college and shadowed him in his first charge, now assumed vast proportions. He was all afloat. All that kept him from sinking — humanly speaking — was his own honest expression of doubt. Had he kept it to himself and brooded over it in secret he migfht have been carried over the falls of infidelity or gone to the fool's refuge — suicide. But Beecher was then, as aUvays, open- mouthed. What he felt, thought or knew, he told. Secretiveness was never fairly developed in his nature. He never could keep a secret. He made friends readily, and the last person with him invariably knew his mind. He was easily deceived, for although he had constant ex- perience in human strengths and human weak- nesses, he was by nature confiding and trustful. Truthful himself, it was next to impossible to per- suade him that any one would be false in speech or inference to him. He knew all about wicked- ness in general, but special cases bothered him. When doubts assailed him, instead of taking them to his study he used them as illustrations in ihe pulpit. If he questioned the possibility of for- giveness of sin, he became the example. It was his breast that he beat, his doubt he asserted, his fears he expressed. In picturing the estate of a lost soul, the imagery lost nothing of its power by 66 HENRY WARD BEECHER. li li li'ii a personal application. Enthusiastic in every- thing, from the culture of a flower to the worship of his Saviour, Mr. Beecher carried his zealous search for remedies in this state of doubt to the extremity of his passionate nature. Crowds attended his preaching. Waves of religious feeling carried all classes of people before them. The State of Indiana was in an uproar. The Presbyterian Churches looked on amazed. Dr." Lyman Beecher thanked God that he had given him such a son, and in the same breath beseeched Him to guide him, lest he should fall. The legislature sat in Indianapolis, and in its train followed the evils that generally accompany the camp-followers. Intemperance, gambling and kindred vices were rampant in the place. Everybody knew it. The sores affected the entire body politic. The members of the legislature knew it as well as the rest, and winked : I it like the rest. This seemed to Beecher a fair target. He announced a series of lectures to young men, and delivered them in his church. The feeling engendered by them was intense. Those who were hit were in- dignant. All classes went to hear them, and be- fore they were concluded a revival arose that swept the city. T'^e lectures to young men were seven in number on the following subjects : " Industry and HENRY WARD BEECHER. 67 us he ses ivas ked jod ame ; he >olis, rally ance, \i the well This inced rered id by :e in- Id be- that ^n in and Idleness," " Twelve Causes of Dishonesty," " Six Warnings," "The Portrait Gallery," "Gamblers and Gambling," "The Strange Woman," and " Popular Amusements." In one sense crude, these lectures were sketched with the hand of a master. The advice and important warnings given to young men were emphasized with marked fidelity, and produced an unusual effect. Avoiding the abstract or formal, he pointed out the evils and advantages which surround the young vividly ; his thought was bold and original, his expression independent. It was the judgment of the best critics of the time that his warnings were not only attractive but profitable ; and while it might well have been judged that it would be dififici'It to find in lectures of that nature any- thing new, the peculiarity of the garb in which the author presented them made them exceedingly attractive. It has often been asked how he could reconcile his subsequent friendship for actors of distinction, and his subsequent visits to theatres on occasions of notable productions, with the tre- mendous indictments drawn in his lectures to which reference is made. The lectures were delivered in 1840. Mr. Beecher died in 1887. In that great stretch of time, nearly a full half of a century, that must forever stand monumental among its fellows, everything changed, and it would be odd and sad indeed if the Church alone ,1 I;! i i j j i .1 BiHflll 68 HENP.Y WARD BEECHER. should refuse to profit by the advancement of science, the progress of art, and the general up- liftment of the people of the earth from the sloughs of ignorance toward the plane of inde- pendence, of self-support, and therefore self-re- spect. But enough of that. The lectures were part and parcel of the man. Industrious himself, he abhorred the idler. Happy in his own hearty industry, he pitied those who were slaves to idleness. In his judgment industry was a substitute for genius, and on that point the following unveils a suggestion of humor which will be enjoyed by all who remember how frequendy the great preacher relieved tediousness by flashes of wit, whether in the pulpit or on the platform. Concerning industry as a substitute for genius, he says : " Where one or more facul- ties exist in the highest state of development and activity, as the faculty of music in Mozart, inven- tion in Fulton, ideality in Milton, we call their possessor a genius. But a genius is usually understood to be a creature of such rare facility of mind, that he can do anything widiout labor. According to the popular noti<^ n, he learns with- out study, and knows without learning. He is eloquen without preparation ; exact without cal- culation ; and profound without reflection While ordinary men toil for knowledge by reading, by comparison, and by minute research, a genius is -1 HENRY WARD BEECHER. 69 )f P- he le- re- an. iler. lose nent that imor how sness n the titute facul- t and wen- their ;ually icility labor. . with- [e is It cal- ^hile »g, by Tius is '$ |a{ supposed to receive it as the mind receives dreams ; his mjnd is like a vast cathedral, through whose colored windows the sunlight streams, painting the aisles with the varied colors of brill- iant pictures. " Such minds may exist. "So far as my observations have ascertained the species, they abound in academies, colleges, and Thespian societies ; in village debating clubs ; in coteries of young artists and among young professional aspirants. They are *^^o be known by a rc^-erved air, excessive sensitiveness, and utter indolence ; by very long hair, and very open shirt-collars ; by the reading of much wretched poetry, and the writing of much, yet more wretched ; by being very conceited, very affected, very disagreeable, and very useless — beings whom no man wants for friend, pupil, or com- panion, hi the ordinary business of life, industry can do anything which genius can do ; and very many things which it cannot. Genius is usually impatient of application, irritable, scornful of men's dulness, squeamish at petty disgusts. It loves a conspicuous place, a short work, and a large reward. It loathes the Lweat of toil, the vexations of life, and the dull burden of care. " Industry has a finer muscle, is less annoyed by delays and repulses, and, like water, bends itself to the shape of the soil over which it flows ; and if checked, will not rest, but accumulates, and 70 HENRY WARD BEECHER. ^ii mines a passage beneath, or seeks a side-race, or rises above and overflows the obstruction. What genius performs at one impulse, industry gains by a succession of blows. In ordinary matters they differ only in rapidity of execution, and are upon one level before men, who see the result but not the process. " It is admirable to know that those things which, in skill, in art, and in learning, the world has been unwilling to let die, have not only been the con- ceptions of genius, but the products of toil. The masterpieces of antiquity, as well in literature as in art, are known to have received their extreme finish from an almost incredible continuance of labor upon them. I do not remember a book in all the departments of learning, nor a scrap in literature, nor a work in all the schools of art, from which its author has derived a permanent renown, that is not known to have been long and patiently elaborated. Genius needs industry, as much as industry needs genius. If only Milton's imagination could have conceived his visions, his consummate industry only could have carved the immortal lines which enshrine them. If only Newton's mind could reach out to the secrets of nature, even his could only do it by the homeliest toil. The works of Bacon are not midsummer- night dreams, but, like coral islands, they have risen from the depths of truth, and formed their broad surfaces above the ocean by the minutest HENRY WARD BEECHER. 71 in accretions of persevering labor. The conceptions of Michael Angelo would have perished like a night's phantasy, had not his industry given them permanence." At another time, when lecturing on the " Causes of Dishonesty," he drew a portrait of a well-known statesman as follows: "A corrupt public senti- ment produces dishonesty. A public sentiment in which dishonesty is not disgraceful, in which bad men are respectable, are trusted, are honored, are exalted — is a curse to the young. The fever of speculation, the universal derangement of busi- ness, the growing laxness of morals, is, to an alarming extent, introducing such a state of things. Men of notorious immorality, whose dishonesty is flagrant, whose private habits would disgrace the ditch, are powerful and popular. I have seen a man stained with every sin, except those which required courage, into whose head I do not think a pure thought has entered for forty years ; in whose heart an honorable feeling would droop for very loneliness ; — in evil he was ripe and rot- ten ; hoary and depraved in deed, in word, in his present life and in all his past ; evil when by him- self, and viler among men ; corrupting to the young ; — to domestic fidelity, a recreant ; to com- mon honor, a traitor; to honesty, an outlaw; to religion, a hypocrite ; — base in all that is worthy of man, and accomplished in whatever is disgraceful. And yet this wretch could go where he would ; I 1 1'< 72 HENRY WARD BEECHER. enter good men's dwellings, and purloin their votes. Men would curse him, yet obey him ; hate him and assist him ; warn their sons against him, and lead them to the polls for him. A public sen- timent which produces ignominious knaves can- not breed honest men." And from a passage in another portion of the same lecture it will be seen that the present dec- ade is not singular in a certain line of financial developments : "Absconding agents, swindling scheme?, and defalcations, occurring in such mel- ancholy abundance, have at length ceased to be wonders, and rank with the common accidents of fire and flood. The budget of each week is in- complete without its runaway cashier, its thief and defaulter ; and as waves which roll to the shore are lost in those which follow on, so the villanies of each week obliterate the record of the last." One would almost think this to be an extract from an editorial of the papers of to-day. At that time, as now, there was a languid inter- est felt in the condition of our Indians, and then, as later, there were occasional suggestions in the papers, and utterances by missionaries from the Far West, which would seem to indicate that all was not well with them, and of course then, as ever, the sympathy of the young preacher, like the heart-throb of the old preacher, was ailways in the interest of the under-dog ; so, utilizing an oc- HENRY WARD BEECHER. casion when tlif» t,oo«. i • i . 'he govern" and the''' ''"' '^" "^^ P^-^-^ed, sentatives and all the T"' """^ "'^ ■"^P^e- S-e were ih'Ltd Si ertr""^;- °/""= "loth is seen lurk'ino- . , ^ ^^''^' ''^ehe- -d bHn,,n, :hetlr;intV"'r? ^^^^^-' civilization to air) in i '\™"S anj tlie skill of barbarians. The ' „-f "^ "'^ debauched Indian is no .atch Tr he cTt"'"-"' =^^'f""» Compared with .he ml; ^^'f' "'" ^'''"= '"^"• ■■eared in schools! rocTd f l""'"^ "' "'- -"d taught by th^ hutane -^ '^ ^^•°"' '"^^P-^^ and civilization, all ^rcrar'Tr^* "'"'^^'3' 'W'l.gl.t. Vast estates have K ''"'^^ ''' -*out having an honest tZ ^^™""''««^d Oui- penitentiaries mitxh/l "§^ '" "'em. '>;etreaty.g,,undsa„dt\, ':;,"■" '° ='^''-' "> F'ers and swindlers miT hZn "'t ^™"^- - the presence of Indianlrader AM t'""'^*^^ against property known ! ^" ''"= '^""es ^'•* unnatural vii" "„H ""'^ '^"^ «°""-^h civilized villany. To sw^n^n '°"'^' ""'^"^"n '<> reach simplicity tol ", '?"°'-ance, to over- rent, frorn'me'^'il^iatr; ""'^'^ ^° ^">- - tempt the savages to roh ."J" P"''-'"''^' t° -I've their plund r to Uft T'' '"" *° - prices to the sober IndL ^ '^- '' '""edible ^nd steal them all bact t . '° '"'°'''=«« ''™. -W again, and stolen ai '"" ^'■^^'■"' '" ^e '"=t, threats, whiskev T ' '" ^'"P'"^ ^^'^ehood, ^^h'skey, and even the knife and the I ', i : m " 'ri. 74 HENRY WARD BEECIIER. pistol ; in short, to consume the Indian's substance by every vice and crime possible to an unprinci- pled heart inflamed with an insatiable rapacity, unwatched by justice and unrestrained by law — this it is to be an Indian trader. I would rather inhabit the bowels of Vesuvius, or make by bed in Etna, than own those estates which have been scalped off from human beings, as the hunter strips a beaver of its fur. Of all these, of all who gain possessions by extortion and robbery, never let yourself be envious ! ' I was envious at the foolish, when I saw the prosperity of the wicked. Their eyes stand out with fatness. They have more than heart could wish. They are corrupt, and speak wickedly concerning oppression. They have set their mouth against the heaven, and their tongue walketh through the earth. When I sought to know this, it was too painful for me, until I went into the sanctuary. Surely thou didst set them in slippery places ; Thou castedst them down into destruction as in a moment ! They are utterly consumed with terrors. As a dream when one awaketh, so, O Lord, when thou awakest. Thou shalt despise their image.' " Then, as always, contemporaneous develop- ment was the text for Mr. Beecher's discourse in the sanctum, in the pulpit and on the platform. His church was in Indianapolis, the capital of a then far-western State. He was thrown into constant contact with the great men of his day in all lines HENRY WARD BEECHER. 'ery." every man in thlsl J^^ P°«™'' Gal- ^ould be pfctured through he IT ?.^'/'^«=«« photographs. Amono- f,, ' ",'"^'^ °^ ^dividual -Vdendy to „ai, t^ thfwl ir'"" ''^ ''<^«g'^'ed • o"t individuah-zino- 1/ ', ^ "^y"'*^' ^"d with- well-recog„i,ed "S P;«;-'"-i"g he drew a -one who never' sees 1: '°^"^^ "The Cynic ^"d never fails to see 5, .''""''''^ '" ^ ">-". human owl, vio-iJant Tn ! , °"^- ^e is the h-.ht, mousing rveJntd"" '"' ""''^ '° g-n^e. The cynic puT Llll,"''"'' ^^^''"^ "°We o"ly two classes-open/v L^ ^" ^"''°"'' ''"'o A" virtue and gen^sty tVd"' """'^ •'^<^- are merely the appearan.^ f '^'^'"terestedness 'he bottom. He holds thL ^°°'^' ^"^ ^^'"'h at ""■"g except for pX Tl eV t" f ^ ' ^""'^ 3at.on upon your feeling is l,°f/"^ ™"^«'- them to send you away fori a^/'"" '""^ =^" ""■csms and innuendoes fan T"'"' ^'' upon every loving thincr I,t!r '"d'sWminately =» -an is said to be pte t d"'!"""" '°^'''- '' «'-•• • Ves, in the da^t me If'''''^' ""' ^''^ -«" nounced virtuous, he will 'rel' "r^" '^ P™" 'CertainlJ/the^^c^n^Cr^^'''-^-^- --Of the Gospel is :Lra?ei.^; 76 HENRY WARD BEECHER. diligence : ' * Ir is his trade.' Such a man is gen- erous : ' Of other men's money.* This man is obhging : * To lull suspicion and cheat you.' That man is upright : * Because he is green.* "Thus his eye strains out every good quality and takes in only the bad. •• To him religion is hypocrisy, honesty a prep- aration for fraud, virtue only want of opportunity, and undeniable purity asceticism. The livelong, day he will coolly sit with sneering lip, uttering sharp speeches in the quietest manner, and in polished phrase transfixing every character which is presented. His words are softer than oil, yet are they drawn swords. "All this, to the young, seems a wonderful knowledge of human nature ; they honor a man who appears to have found out mankind. They begin to indulge themselves in flippant sneers; and with supercilious brov/, and impudent tongu . wagging to an empty brain, call to naught the wise, the long-tried, and the venerable. " I do believe that man is corrupt enough ; but something of good has survived his wreck; some- thing of evil religion has restrained, and some- thing partially restored. Yet, I look upon the human heart as a mountain of fire. I dread its crater. I tremble when I see its lava roll the fiery stream. Therefore I am the more glad if, upon the old crust of past eruptions, I can find a single flower springing up. So far from rejecting appear- HENRY WARD BEECHER. 77 ances of virtue in the corrupt heart of a depravisd race, I am as eager to see their light as ever mar- iner was to see a star in a stormy night. •' Moss will grow upon gravestones ; the ivy will cling to the mouldering pile ; the mistletoe springs from the dying branch ; and, God be praised, something green, something fair to the sight and grateful to the heart will yet twine around and grow out of the seams and cracks of the desolate temple of the human heart ! " Mr. Beecher's portrayal of gamblers and gam- bling ought to be printed and scattered through- out the earth as a tract. No photograph was ever more faithful. No portrait was ever more cleverly drawn. No picture was ever more graphic. Extracts from his lecture on " Gambling " would be like specimen leaves from South American forests. In all his later preaching, lecturing, public service, Mr. Beecher never built better, never painted more truthfully, never pictured more accurately, never revealed more thoroughly his knowledge of human nature, its outworkings, its ready yielding to temptation, than in this lec- ture, and he never caused more frequent askings of the questions : " How did he know ? " " Where did he learn all this ? " " Who told him ? " The fact is, Henry Ward Beecher was a student of men. He absorbed from every person he encountered. 78 HENRY WARD BEFCHER. He was an open book, on the white page of which every man wrote something. If he crossed the ferry, he learned from the pilot the ways of the current and the tide, or gathered from the fireman why he oiled this rather than that. If he rode in the cars, he knew the duties of the brake- man and the trials of the conductor. The hum- ble man who laid the brick along the sewers in our streets taught him. His school was not alone that of the seminary or the college, but the open fields, the blossoming flower, the printed page, the garrulous neighbor, his friend, his acquaint- ance his creditor, his debtor, his butcher, his shoe- maker, all taught him something. They all brought grist to that great mill, and nothing ever went to waste. Familiar, as was said before, with all sorts and conditions of men in the capital of the then inchoate State of Indiana, he knew the bad men upon the bench as well as the good men in the stable, and ViU versa. And con- cerning the law-givers who sat before him he said, looking them straight and clearly in the eye, with pointed though not offensive reference : " In our civil economy w<^ have legislators to devise and enact wholesome laws ; lawyers to counsel and aid those who need the law's relief; and judges to determine and administer the lavvi If legislators, lawyers, and judges are gamblers, with what hope do we warn off the young from this deadly fascination, against such authoritative m ..V';'**VjJ*\;* HENRY WARD BEECHER. 79 examples of high pubHc functionaries ? With what eminent fitness does that judge press the bench, who in private commits the vices which officially he is set to condemn ? With what sin- gular terrors does he frown on a convicted gam- bler with whom he played last night, and will play again to-night ! How wisely should the fine be light which the sprightly criminal will win and pay out of the judge's own pocket ! "With the name of Judge is associated ideas of immaculate purity, sober piety, and fearless favorless justice. Let it then be counted a dark crime for a recreant official so far to forget his reverend place, and noble office, as to run the gauntlet of filthy vices, and make the word judge to suggest an incontinent trifler, who smites with his mouth and smirks with his eye ; who holds the rod to strike the criminal, and smites only the law to make a gap for criminals to pass through. If God loves this land, may he save it from truckling, drinking, swearing, gambling, vi- cious judges ! "With such judges I mr.st associate corrupt legislators, whose bawling patriotism leaks out in all the sinks of infamy at the capital. These living exemplars of vice pass s:iUborn Lws against vice. Are such men sent to the capital only to practice debauchery ? •^borious seedsmen — they gather every germ of evil; laborious sowers — at home they strew them far and wide. It is a burning ill P I;:"'" |0 HENRY WARD BEECHER. shame, a high outrage, that pubh'c men, by cor- rupting the young with the example of manifold vices, should pay back their constituents for their honors. " Our land has little to fear from abroad, and much from within. We can bear foreign aggres- sion, scarcity, the revulsions of commerce, plagues and pestilences; but we cannot bearvicious judges, corrupt courts, gambling legislators and a vicious, corrupt and gambling constituency. Let us not be deceived. The decay of civil institutions be- gins at the core. The outside wears all the lovely hues of ripeness, when the inside is rot- ting. Decline does not begin in bold and start- ling acts, but, as in autumnal leaves, in rich and glowing colors. Over diseased vitals, consumptive laws wear the hectic flush, a brilliant eye and transparent skin. Could the public sentimf^nt declare that personal morality is the first element of patriotism, and that corrupt legislators are the most pernicious of criminals ; that the judge who lets the villian off is the villian's patron ; that tolerance of crime is intolerance of virtue — our nation might defy all enemies and live forever." It may be doubted if in any of Mr. Beecher's writings can be found more startling pictures than those which abound as illustrations, or as portraitures, indeed, in these lectures. Consider- able discussion was created when it was announced that he would lecture, as he did, before this dis- HENRY WARD BEECHER. 81 tinguished audience on " The Strange Woman." It was the talk of the town, and the gossip of the religious press. Protests came from personal friends, but the excitement, intense as it was, determined the young man to continue his tilt against the espe- cially besetting sins of the capital. He knew the men in the legislature well. He knew their habits of drinking, gambling and debauchery, and be- lieving he was a public teacher, taught publicly. The Strange Woman's House was divided ac- cording to him into five wards : Pleasure, Satiety, Discovery, Disease and Death. After a brief description of the eye-dazzling magnificence of the ward of Pleasure, and the strange wonders of the reveler who in the morning recalls his midnight madness, he takes the visitor to the ward of Discovery, where he says : " No decep- tion remains. The floors are bare; the naked walls drip filth ; the air is poisonous with sickly fumes, and echoes with mirth concealing hideous misery. None supposes that he has been happy. The past seems like the dream of the miser, who gathers gold spilled like rain upon the road, and wakes, clutching his bed, and crying 'Where is it.-*' On your right hand, as you enter, close by die door is a group of fierce felons in deep drink with drugged liquor. With red and swollen faces, rr white and thin; or f irred with ghastly corruption ; with scowling brows, baleful eyei? ly^^m 82 HENRY WARD BEECHER. Ill til i bloated lips and demoniac grins — in person all undeanly, in morals all debauched, in peace bank- rupt — the desperate wretches wrangle one with the other, swearing bitter oaths, and heaping re- proaches each upon each ! Around the room you see miserable creatures unapparelled, or dressed in rags, sobbing and moaning. That one who gazes out at the window, calling for her mother and weeping, was right tenderly and purely bred. She has been baptized twice — once to God, and once to the devil. She sought this place in the very vestments of God's house. Call not on thy mother ; she is a saint in Heaven, and cannot hear ihee ! Yet, all night long she dreams of home, and childhood, and wakes to sigh and weep ; and between her sobs she cries, * Mother ! Mother ! ' " Yonder Is a youth, once s servant at God's altar. His hair hangs tangled and torn ; his eyes tTe bloodshot ; his face is livid ; his fist is clenched. Ail the day he wanders up and down, cursing sometimes himself, and sometimes the wretch that brought him hither; and when he sleeps, he dreams of hell; and then he wakes to feel all he dreamed. This is the ward of reality. All know why the first rooms looked so gay — they were en- chanted ! It was enchanted wine they drank, and enchanted fruit they ate ; now they know the pain of fatal focA jn every limb ! •« JVarr. of Disease. Ye that look wistfully at HENRY WARD BEECHER. 83 the pleasant front of this terrific house, come with me now, and look into the terror of this ward ; for here are the seeds of sin in their full harvest form. We are in a lazar-roon" ; its air oppresses every sense ; its sights confound our thoughts ; its sounds pierce our ear; its stench repels us; it is full of disease. Here a shuddering wretch is clawing at his breast, to tear away that worm which gnaws his heart. By him is another, whose limbs are dropping from his ghastly trunk. Next swelters another, in reeking filth ; his eyes rolling in bony sockets, every breath a pang, and every pang a groan. But yonder, on a pile of rags, lies one whose yells of frantic agony appall every ear. Clutching his rags with spasmodic grasp, his swollen tongue lolling from a blackened mouth, his bloodshot eyes glaring and rolling, he shrieks oaths ; now blaspheming God, and now imploring him. He hoots and shouts, and shakes his grisly head from side to side, cursing r praying ; now calling death, and then, as if driving away fiends, yelling *A vaunt, Avaunt ! ' "Another has been ridden by pain, until he can no longer shriek ; but lies foaming and grinding his teeth and clenches his bony hands, until the nails pierce the palm — though there is no blood there to issue out — trembling all the time with the shudders and chills of utter agony. The happiebt ^vrctch in all this ward is an idiot — dropsical, dis- torted and moping ; all day he wags his head, I i| 84 HENRY WARD BEECHER. and chatters and laughs, and bites his nails ; then he will sit for hours motionless, with open jaw, and glassy eye fixed on vacancy. In this ward are huddled all the diseases of pleasure. This is the torture-room of The Strange Woman's House, and it excels the Inquisition. The wheel, the rack, the bed of knives, the roasting fire, the brazen room jlowly heated, the slivers driven under the nails, the hot pincers — what are these to the ago- nies of the last days of licentious vice ? Hundreds of rotting wretches would change their couch of torment in The Strange Woman's House, for the gloomiest terror of the Inquisition, and profit by the change. Nature herself becomes the tor- mentor. Nature, long trespassed on and abused, at length casts down the wretch ; searches every vein, makes a road of every nerve for the scorch- ing feet of pain to travel on, pulls at every muscle, breaks in the breast, builds fires in the brain, eats out the skin, and casts living coals of torment on the heart. What are hot pincers to the enven- omed claws of disease? What is it to be put into a pit of snakes and slimy toads, and feel their cold coil or piercing fang, to the creeping of a whole body of vipers — where every nerve is a viper, and every vein a viper, and every muscle a ser- pent ; and the whole body, in all its parts, coils and twists upon itself in unimaginable anguish? I tell you, there is no Inquisition so bad as that which the doctor looks upon ! Young man, I HENRY WARD BEECHER. 85 can show you in this ward worse pangs than ever a savage produced at the stake — than ever a tyrant wrung out by engines of torment ! — than ever an inquisitor devised ! Every year, in every town, die wretches scalded and scorched with agony. Were the sum of all the pain that comes with the last stages of vice collected, it would rend the very heavens with its outcry ; would shake the earth ; would even blanch the cheek of infatua- tion ! Ye that are listening in the garden of this strange woman, among her cheating tlowers ; ye that are dancing in her halls in the first ward, come hither; look upon her fourth ward — its vomited blood, its sores and fiery blotches, its pru- rient sweat, its dissolving ichor and rotten bones! Stop, young man ! You turn your head from this ghastly room ; and yet, stop — and stop soon, or thou shalt lie here ! Mark the solemn signals of thy passage ! Thou hast had already enough of warnings in thy cheek, in thy bosom, in thy pangs of premonition ! " But ah ! ever)' one of you who are dancing with the covered paces of death in the strange woman's first hall, let m'^ break your spell — for now I shall open the doors of the last ward. Look ! Listen ! Witness your own end, unless you take quickly a warning ! " Ward of Death, No longer does the incar- nate wretch pretend to conceal her cruelty. She thrusts — aye, as if they were dirt — she shovels aJBlK<^J:^tf^•4!^i.?m£flXf ir)i;ra-wiilfri|-niiillBp |i| lljjiiiiji il!i 86 HENRY WARD BEECHER. out the wretches. Some fall headlong through the rotten floor — a long fall to a fiery bottom. The floor trembles to deep thunders which roll below. Here and there jets of flame sprout up, and give a lurid light to the murky hall. Some would fain escape ; and flying across the treach- erous floor, which man never safely passed, they go, through pitfalls and treacherous traps, with hideous outcries and ?,stounding yells, to perdi- tion ! Fiends laugh ! The infernal laugh, the cry of agony, the thund^^r of damnation shake the very roof, and echo from wall to wall. " Oh ! that the young might see the end of vice before they see the beginning. I know that you shrink from this picture ; but your safety requires that you should look long into the ward of death that fear may supply strength to your virtue. See the blood oozing from the wall, the fiery hands which pluck the wretches down, the light of hell gleaming through, and hear its roar as of a distant ocean chafed with storms. Will you sprinkle the wall with your blood ? will you feed those flames with your flesh? will you add your voice to those thundering wails ? will you go down a prey through the fiery floor of the cham- ber of death ? Believe then the word of God : Her house is the way to hell, going down to the chambers of death . . . avoid it, pass not by it, turn from it, and pass away. " I have described The Strange Woman's House t-itril 1 HENRY WARD BEECHER. 87 you feed m your a go ham- [}od: 3 the by it, Louse in strong language, and it needed it. If your taste shrinks from the description, so does mine. Hell, and all the ways of hell, when we pierce the cheating disguises and see the truth, are ter- rible and trying to behold ; and if men would not walk there, neither would we pursue their steps to sound the alarm and gather back whom we can." It is amazing, really, in view of the tendency of the age, in view of the facts rather of the times, that a man, even born as Beecher was in a hot- bed of zeal and iron-clad Calvinism, could have spoken as he did concerning the theatre and its on-goings. Nevertheless, what he said was a part of his then thought, and belongs to history quite as much as anything else. In his then judgment all young men should forswear the drama, becau" it was a waste of time, a waste of money; because it was incompatible with ordi- nary pursuits and would be sure to lead to bad company. " Putting," he says, " together in one class, all gamblers, circus-riders, actors and racing jockeys, I pronounce them to be men who live off of society without returning any useful equiva- lent for their support. At the most lenient sen- tence, they are a band of gay idlers. They do not throw one cent into the stock of public good. They do not make shoes, or hats, or houses, or harness, or anything else that is useful. A hos- tler is useful ; he performs a necessary office. A m^gsjjuumiiiu^ JiB »-^ 88 HENRY WARD BEECHER. scullion is useful; somebody must act his part. A street-sweeper, a chimney-sweep, the seller of old clothes, a scavenger, a tinker, a bootblack, all these men are respectable ; for though their call- ings are very humble, they are founded on the real wants of society. The bread which such men eat is the representation of what they have done for society ; not the bread of idleness, but of usefulness. But what do pleasure-mongers do for a living? what do they invent? what do they make? what do they repair? what do they for the mind, for the body, for man or child, or beast? The dog that gnaws a refuse bone, pays for it in barking at a thief. The cat that purrs its gratitude for a morsel of meat will clear our house of rats. Bui what do we get in return for supporting whole loads of play-mongers and circus clowns ? They eat, they drink, they giggle, they grimace, they strut in garish clothes — and what else ? They have not afforded even useful amusement; they are professional laugh- makers ; their trade is comical, or tragical, buf- foonery — the trade of tickling men. We do not feel any need of them before they come ; and when they leave, the only effects resulting from their visits are unruly boys, aping apprentices and unsteady workmen. "Now, upon principles o( mere political economy, is it wise to support a growing class of improvident idlers ? If at the top of society HENRY WARD BEECHER. 89 the government should erect a class of favored citizens, and pamper their idleness with fat pen- sions, the indignation of the whole community would break out against such privileged aristo- crats. But we have, at the bottom of society, a set of wandering, jesting, dancing, fiddling aristo- crats, whom we support for the sake of their caperi:, grins and caricatures upon life, and no one seems to think this an evil " We cannot pay for honest loans, but we can pay Elssler hundreds of thousands for being an airy sylph : America can pay vagabond fiddlers, fashionable actors, dancing horses, and boxing- men ! Heaven forbid tl at these should want ! But to pay honest debts — indeed, indeed, we have honorable scruples of conscience about that ! " Let our foreign creditors dismiss their fears, and forgive us the commercial debt; write no more drowsy letters about public faith ; let them write spicy comedies, and send over fiddlers and dancers, and actors, and singers — they will soon collect the debt and keep us good-natured ! After every extenuation, hard times, deficient currency, want of market, etc., there is a deeper reason than these at the bottom of our inert indebted- ness. Living among the body of the people, and having nothing to lose or gain by my opinions, I must say plainly, that the community are not sen- sitive to the disgrace of flagrant public bank- ruptcy ; they do not seem to care whether their fgfflteS'KK:-''*" IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) V ^ // // .!^ V - % o 4^y^.. y. V. v^ ^ /a 6? O ^l /J. "-* / 1.0 " IK mil 2.2 I.I 1.25 1.4 Photographic Sciences Corporation 2.0 1.6 23 WEST MAIN STREET WEBSTER, N.Y. 14580 (716) 872-4503 fV ^v :i>^ \ \ -4^^ A'> K ^ Xv" ^V'^^^ % V" u ^^ n>^ w- w. liMii 90 HENRY WARD BEECHER. public debt be paid or not. I perceive no en- thusiasm on that subject ; it is not a topic for either party, nor of anxious private conversation. A profound indebtedness, ruinous to our credit and to our morals, is allowed to lie at the very bottom of the abyss of dishonest indifference. " Men love to be taxed for their lusts ; there is an open exchequer for licentiousness, and for giddy pleasure. We grow suddenly saving, when benevolence asks alms, or justice duns for debts ; we dole a pittance to suppliant creditors, to be rid of their clamor. But let the divine Fanny^ with evolutions extremely efficacious upon the feelings, fire the enthusiasm of a whole theatre of men, whose applauses rise as she does ; let this courageous dancer, almost literally true to nature, display her adventurous feats before a thousand men, and the very miser will turn spendthrift ; the land which will not pay its hon- est creditors, will enrich a strolling danseuse and rain upon the stage a stream of golden boxes, or golden coin, wreaths and rosy billet-doux!' Pretty strong that, but he meant it, every word of it. Meantime the uncertainty of young Beecher increased, and with it grew his power. He was maturing mentally and physically. His head ex- panded as he read the books of nature and of humanity all about him. He felt the necessity of supplementing his sparse education by such means as were at his disposal. HENRY WARD BEECHER. 91 Books were rare and costly. Newspapers were in their infancy. He read all that he could borrow or obtain from the public libraries, and felt inexpressible gratitude when the choice volumes of a wealthy friend were placed at lis service. The West, and especially that section of it, was full of quick- witted men and growing women. Both sought' comfort in the preaching of this man of the people. Instead of scoffing at their doubts he boldly pro- claimed his own. This made him the friend and spokesman of the wavering. He pictured in vivid colors the unhappiness of his thoughts, the terror of his fear, and produced in their minds the impression that Beecher and they were one and the same. When he found relief, they participated in his joy. When he sang the song of salvation, they joined in the chorus. He became immensely popular in his parish and in the State. He was not the ideal parson. He wore no distinctive garb. His face was round and jolly. His eye was full of laugh- ter. His manner was hearty and his interest sin- cere. It was often said that Beecher could have attained any desired distinction at the bar or in politics. He was importuned to stand as candi- date for legislative honors, but invariably refused even to think of it. At this time, when he regarded himself spiritually weak, he was eloquently 6 92 HENRY WARD BEECHER. Strong. He preached without notes and talked as if inspii d. His prayers were poems. His illustrations ere constant and always changing. He kept his people wide awake and made them feel his earnestness. His acting power was marvellous. Those who knew him well will remember that when talking he could with difficulty sit still. He almost invariably rose, and in the excitement of description or argument acted the entire subject as it struck him. Oftentimes in his most solemn moments an illustration or an odd expression would escape him that sent a laugh from pev/ to pew. Waking suddenly to the incongruity of the scene and the subject, it almost seemed as if the rebuking spirit of his dead mother stood before hiiT!, for with a manner that carried the sympathy of the audience he would drift into a channel tender and deep and full of tears, along which the feelings of his people were irresistibly borne. There, as here, the chief topics of his repertory were the love of God and the dignity of man. He rarely preached from the Old Testament. The thunders of Sinai and the flames of hell had no power over him. It would puzzle an expert to find in all his published sermons — and for more than a generation every word he spoke was re- ported as he spoke it — a sentence of which threats or fears were the dominant spirit. He preached the love of God and the sympathy of Christ first, HENRY WARD BEECHER. last, and all the time. He knew the politi- cians of the West thoroughly ; and the gamblers, who were a powerful fraternity, made up their minds that it was folly to interfere with the robust preacher who was not afraid to push their bully ► aside when he stood in front of the ballot-box, and who met them eye to eye on the street as in his pulpit. While in the height of his popularity in the West he was hampered as few men would care • to be. He was hungry for books and papers, but could not afford them. He had a royal phys- ique and every vein throbbed with superabundant health, but his home was a hospital. His am- bition was great, but he was tied to a stake in a^ con tracted field. He strove to live outside of him- self, made many pastoral calls, talked with men about their business trials and sympathized withi women n their domestic woes. At his own home his hands were full. His wife was broken la. health and discomforted in spirit. She did not like the West and the West was unkind to her con- stitution. It was a serious question whether she. could much longer endure the strain on her phyis- ique, and this wore on the sympathetic nature of her husband. He was entirely unselfish, but the attrition of years of complaint worried him. He did the best, all in fact he could, but to no use. Finding himself depressed, Mr. Beecher resolutely set to work to drive his fits of despond- 94 HENRY WARD BEECHER. ency away. He became interested in trees and flowers. Aided by friends he started an agricul- tural paper and posted himself from books on floriculture and read the fat and prosy volumes of Loudon. His fresh and novel mode of treat- ing these subjects won him fame, but no fortune. His own garden gave evidence of his skill, and the fairs were not niggardly in premiums to the amateur gardener. The name of his paper, which he edited and published in Indianapolis, was the Western Farmer and Gardener. Concerning this work he said : "At that time, and for years afterward, there was not, within our knowledge, any other than politi- cal newspapers in the State, no educational jour- nals, no agricultural or family papers. The Indiana journal at iength proposed to introduce an agri- cultural department, the matter of which should every month be printed in magazine form, under the title, Indiana Farmer and Gardener^ which was afterward changed to the more comprehen- sive title. Western Farmer and Gardener, It may be of some service to the young, as showing how valuable the fragments of time may become, if mention is made of the way in which we became prepared to edit this journal. "The continued taxation of daily preaching, extending through months, and once through eighteen consecutive months, without the excep- tion of a single day, began to wear upon the m- HENRY WARD BEECHER. w ing, ,gh fep- the nerves, and made it necessary for us to seek some relaxation. Accordingly we used, after each week- night's preaching, to drive the sermon out of our heads by some alterative reading. "In the State Library were Loudon's works, his encyclopaedias of horticulture, of agriculture, and of architecture. We fell upon them, and for years almost monopolized them. In our little one-story cottage, after the day's work was done, we poured over these monuments of an almost incredible industry, and read, we suppose, not only every line, but much of it many times over; until at length we had a topographical knowledge of many of the fine English estates quite as inti- mate, we dare say, as was possessed by their truant owners. There was something exceed- ingly pleasant, and is yet, in the studying over mere catalogues of flowers, trees, fruits, etc. "A seedsman's list, a nurseryman's catalogue, are more fascinating to us than any story. In this way, through several years, we gradually accumu- lated materials and became familiar with facts and principles, which paved the way for our editorial labors. 'Lindley's Horticulture* and 'Gray's Structural Botany* came in as constant compan- ions. And when, at length, through a friend's liberality, we became the recipients of the London Gardener^ s Chronicle, edited by Professor Lindley, our treasures were inestimable. Many hundred times have we lain awake for hours, unable to 06 HENRY WARD BEECHER. mm throw off the excitement of preaching, and be- guiling the time with imaginary visits to the Chis- wlck Garden, to the more than oriental magnifi- cence of the Duke of Devonshire's grounds at Chatsworth. We have had long discussions, in that little bedroom at Indianapolis, with Van Mons about pears, with Vibert about roses, with Thomp- son and Knight of fruits and theories of vegetable life, and with Loudon about everything under the 'heavens in the horticultural world. "This employment of waste hours not only answered a purpose of soothing excited nerves then, but brought us into such relations to the material world, that we speak with entire modera- tion when we say that all the estates of the richest duke in England could not have given us half the pleasure which we have derived from pastures, waysides, and unoccupied prairies." * At that time he published what he called "Our Creed : " " We believe in small farms and thorough cul- ' tivation. " We believe that soil loves to eat, as well as its owner, and ought, therefore, to be manured. "We believe in large crops which leave the land better than they found it, making both the farmer and the farm rich at once. " We believe in going to the bottom of things and, therefore, in deep plowing, and enough of it. All the better if with a subsoil plow. HENRY WARD BEECHER. 97 " We believe that every farm should own a good farmer. " We believe that the best fertilizer of any soil, is a spirit of industry, enterprise, and intelligence. Without this, lime and gypsum, bones and green manure, marl and guano will be of little use. "We believe in good fences, good barns, good farm-houses, good stock, good orchards, and children enough to gather the fruit. "We believe in a clean kitchen, a neat wife in it, a spinning-piano, a clean cupboard, a clean dairy, and a clean conscience. "We firmly disbelieve in farmers that will not improve; in farms that grow poorer every year; in starveling cattle ; in farmers' boys turning into clerks and merchants ; in farmers* daughters un- willing to work, and in all farmers ashamed of their vocation, or who drink whiskey till honest people are ashamed of them." He was a firm believer in the education of farmers, and on that subject he wrote : " It is time for those who do not believe igno- rance to be a blessing, to move in behalf of com- mon schools. Many teachers are not practised even in the rudiments of the spelling-book ; and as for reading, they s':umble along the sentences like a drunken man on a rough road. Their 'hand-write,' as they felicitously style the hiero- glyphics, would be a match for Champollion, even if he did decipher the Egyptian inscriptions. But 98 HENRY WARD BEECHER. a more detestable fact is, that sometimes their morals are bad ; they are intemperate, coarse and ill-tempered, and wholly unfit to inspire the minds of the pupils with one generous or pure sentiment. We do not mean to characterize the body of the common schoolmasters by these re- marks ; but that any considerable portion of them should be such, is a disgraceful evidence of the low state of education. " Farmers and mechanics ! this is a subject which comes home to you. Crafty politicians are constantly calling you the bone and sinew of the land ; and you may depend upon it that you will never be anything else but bone and sinew with- out education. There is a law of God in this matter. That class of men who make the most and best use of their heads, will, in fact, be the most influential, will stand highest, whatever the theories and speeches may say. This is a ' nature of things ' which cannot be dodged, not got over. Whatever class bestow great pains upon the cul- tivation of their minds will stand high. If farmers and mechanics feel themselves to be as good as other people, it all may be true ; for goodness is one thing and intelligence is another. If they think that they have just as much mind as other classes, that may be true ; but can they use it as well? *• Lawyers, and physicians, and clergymen, and literary men, make the discipline of their intellect HENRY WARD BEECHER. 99 lect a constant study. They read more, think more, write more, than the laboring classes. The dif- ference between the educated and uneducated portions of society is a real difference. Now, a proud and lazy fellow may rail and swear at this, and have his labor for his pains. There is only one way really to get over it, and that is, to rear up a generation of well-educated, thinking, read- ing farmers and mechanics. Your skill and in- dustry are felt; and they put you, in these re- spects, ahead of any other class. Just as soon as your heads are felt, as much as your hands are, that will bring you to the top. "Many of our best farmers are men of great natural shrewdness ; but when they were young they 'had no chance for learning.* They feel the loss, and they are giving their children the best education they can. Farmers* sons con«^titute three-fifths of the educated class. But the uiing is, that they are not educated as farmers. When they begin to study they leave the farm. They do not expect to return to it. The idea of send- ing a boy to the school, the academy and the col- lege, and then let him go back to farming, is re- garded as a mere waste of time and money. If a boy has an education, you expect him to be a lawyer, or a doctor, or a preacher. You tacitly admit that a farmer does not need such an educa- tion ; and if you think so, you cannot blame others if they follow your example. I 100 HENRY WARD BEECHER. "There is no reason why men of the very highest education should not go to a farm for their Hving. If a son of mine were brought up on purpose to be a farmer, if that was the calling which he preferred, I still would educate him, if he had common-sense to begin with. He would be as much better for it as a farmer as he would as a lawyer. There is no reason why a thor- oughly scientific education should not be given to every farmer and to every mechanic. A begin- ning must be made at the common school. Every neighborhood ought to have one. But they do not grow of themselves, like toadstools. And no decent man will teach school on wages which a canal boy or a hostler would turn up his nose at. You may as well put your money into the fire as to send it to a * make-believe ' teacher, a great noodle-head, who teaches school because he is fit for nothing else ! Lay out to get a good teacher. Be willing to pay enough to make it worth while for 'smart' men to become your teachers. And when your boys show an awaken- ing taste for books, see that they have good his- tories, travels and scientific tracts and treatises. Above all, do not let a boy get a notion that if he is educated, he must, of course, quit the farm. Let him get an education that he may make a better farmer. I do not despair of yet seeing a generation of honest politicians. Educated farmers and educated mechanics, who are in good HENRY WARD BEECHER. 101 circumstances and do not need office for a sup- port, nor make politics a trade, will stand the best chance for honesty. But the Lord deliver us from the political honesty of tenth-rate lawyers, vagabond doctors, bawling preachers and bank- rupt clerks, turned into patriotic politicians ! " In those days his bump of humor was well developed. It seemed impossible for him to preach a ser- mon, to give advice, to write on the humblest topic without lightening it up, as it were, by this most excellent gift. His advice to farmers was always read because it was readable ; as, for in- stance, take his catalogue of shiftless tricks: "To let the cattle fodder themselves at the stack. They pull out and trample more than they eat. They eat till the edge of appetite is gone, and then daintily pick the choice parts ; the residue, being coarse and refuse, they will not afterwards touch. " To sell half a stack of hay and leave the lower half open to rain and snow. In feeding out, a hay knife should be used on the stack ; in selling, either dispose of the whole, or remove that which is left to a shed or barn. " It is a shiftless trick to lie about stores, ar- guing with men that you have no time, in a new country, for nice farming, for making good fences, for smooth meadows without a stump, for drain- ing wet patches which disfigure fine fields. 102 HENRY WARD BEECHER. "To raise your frogs in your own yard; to permit, year after year, a dirty, stinking, mantled puddle to stand before your fence in the stree*-. "To plant orchards, and allow your cattle to eat die trees up. When gnawed down, to save your money, by trying to nurse the stubs into good trees, instead of getting fresh ones from the nursery. "To allow an orchard to have blank spaces, where trees have died, and when the living trees begin to bear, to wake up and put young whips in the vacant spots. "It is a dirty trick to make bread without washing one's hands after cleaning fish or chick- ens; to use an apron for a handkerchief; to use a veteran handkerchief just from the wars for an apron ; to use milk-pans alternately for wash- bowls and milk ; to wash dishes and baby linen in the same tub, either alternately or altogether; to chew snuff while you are cooking, for some- times food will chance to be too highly spiced. We have a distinct but unutterable remembra .>''C of a cud of tobacco in a dish of hashed pork, but it was before we were married ! "A lady of our acquaintance, at a boarding- house, excited some fears among her friends, by foaming at the mouth, of madness. In eating a hash (made, doubtless, of every scrap from the table, not consumed the day lefore) she found herself blessed with a mcrJilul of hard soap, HENRY WARD BEECHER. 103 )Ut by Ithe ind fap, which only lathered the more, the more she washed it. " It is a dirty trick to wash children's eyes in the puddin^^-dish ; not that the sore eyes, but sub- sequent puddings, will not be benefited ; to wipe dishes and spoons on a hand-towel ; to wrap warm bread In a dirty table-cloth ; to make and mould bread on a table innocent of washing for weeks ; to use dirty table-cloths for sheets, a prac- tice of which we have had experimental knowl- edge, at least once in our lives. " The standing plea of all slatterns and slovens is, that * everybody must eat a peck of dirt before they die.* A peck? that would be a mercy, a mere mouthful, in comparison with cooked cart- loads of dirt which is to be eaten in steamboats, canal-boats, taverns, mansions, huts and hovels. It is a filthy trick to use tobacco at all ; and it puts an end to all our affected sqeamishness at the Chinese taste, in eating rats, cats and birds' nests. It is a filthy trick to let the exquisite juice of tobacco trickle down the corners of one's mouth ; or He in splashes on one's coat or bosom ; to squirt the juice all over a clean floor, or upon ?* carpet, or baptismally to sprinkle a proud pair of andirons, the refulgent glory of the much- scouring housewife. It a vile economy to lay up for remastication a half-chewed cud ; to pocket a half-smoked cigar; and finally to bedrench one's self with tobacco juice, to so besmoke one's clothes 104 HENRY WARD BEECHER. nil that a man can be scented as far off as a whale- ship can be smelt at sea. "It is a shiftless trick to snuff a candle with your fingers, or your wife's best scissors ; to throw the snuff on the carpet or on the polished floor, and then to extinguish it by treading on it! '• To borrow a choice book ; to read it with unwashed hands, that have been used in the char- coal bin, and finally to return it daubed on every leaf with nose-blood spots, tobacco spatter, and dirty finger-marks — this is a vile trick ! " It is not altogether cleanly to use one's knife to scrape boots, to cut harness, tc skin cats, to cut tobacco, and then to out apples which other people are to eat. " It is an unthrifty trick to bring in eggs from the barn in one's coat-pocket, and then to sit down on them. " It is a filthy trick to borrow of or lend for others' use, a tooth-brush, or a tooth-pick ; to pick one's teeth at table with a fork, or a jack-knife ; to put your hat upon the dinner-table among the dishes ; to spit generously into the fire, or at it, while the hearth is covered with food set to warm ; for sometimes a man hits what he don't aim at. "It is an unmannerly trick to neglect the scraper outside the door, but to be scrupulous in cleaning your feet, after you get inside, on the carpet, rug, or andirons ; to bring your drenched HENRY WARD BEECHER. 106 umbrella into the entry, where i black puddle may leave to the housewife meUncholy evidence that you have been there. "It is soul-trying for a neat daiiy-woman to see her • man ' watering the horse out of her milk- bucket; or filtering horse-medicine through her milk-strainer ; or feeding his hogs with her water- pail ; or, after barn-work, to set the well-bucket outside the curb and wash his hands out of it." "And here is another type," says he : "I speak to those who have cellars. If not already done, thoroughly purge this subterranean story of your house. Every decayed onion, cab- bage stump, potato vine or tuber, turnip, parsnip, carrot, and all the dirt they have made, all straw and rubbish — rake them up and out with them. The cellar is no place for them at any time of year. If you still retain a few potatoes for table use, let them be picked over and all decayed ones removed. One of the best housewives of our acquaintance greeted us not long since with an invitation to come and see her cellar; 'I have swept down every cobweb, whitewashed the walls, swept up the floor, and sowed it with salt. ' De- cayed vegetable matter is a fertile cause of dis- ease, and there is enough of it out of doors, in this country, without heaping it up in the cellar for the special purpose, it would almost seem, of breeding fevers. Whitewash the walls, for lime purifies as well as beautifies. Rake down the 106 HENRY WARD BEECHER. cobwebs ; they are the infallible marks of a slat- tern. Every spider that is allowed to peer out of his corne/ in a house, up-stairs or down, undis- turbed, points his long black leg in thanksgiving at the housewife, ' Hurrah for folks that are not too particular ! * Old legends represent witches as addicted to riding brooms. I wish that many women would get bewitched enough to do this something more than they do. Down cellar, then, with your broom. Look now ; the window is per- fectly covered ; there is a great, sprawling, gaunt spider in the corner and half a dozen empty bugs hung up like scalps to commemorate his triumphs; next to him is a great, over-swollen, pot-bellied fellow — for all the world he looks like a huge glutton ; then there is a sharp, nimble, enterpris- ing spider below him, who has just opened an office and is keen for business, preparing to in- herit, like many other fellows, his neighbor's cus- tom, who, having got rich fraudulently, will soon burst; there, too, are several pale and shadowy spiders, who look as if the cobwebs had kept them from the light until they had become quite sallow and emaciated ; then there are several little round shining, black, pestilent fellows, whose legs are so long in proportion to their bodies, that they make one think of a little potato with yard-long sprouts all over it. I say nothing of crab-spiders on the window-sill, who, like metaphysicians, run back- ward just as easily as forward. Just look, too, my HENRY WARD BEECIIER. 107 is; led ge is- an in- lus- on wy m lOW nd so ke luts he k- y dear madam, at the various patterns of their webs. Here is one from point to point resembling a sheet-like shelf of dusty cotton, and running like a tunnel into a knot-hole, where stands the venom- ous old fallow waiting for flies, like a usurer waiting for customers. Another corner is filled up with a web like a skein of tangled silk ; then there is a beautiful Vv'hccl, worked more beauti- fully than any lace-work, whiJe there are a multi- tude of base and lazy little spiders, who, like many of their betters, live on other folks' webs. Well, we have talked long enough ; dash your brush into that spider-village, give it a dexterous twirl, and with the whole population on the end of it, rim to the door and crush them ! So much for spiders. "As to salt; the only advantage of salt in a cellar, that occurs to us, is its effect in destroying snails, bugs and that fungus vegetation called mold. It will do this. But it attracts moisture from the atmosphere and renders a cellar damp. If your cellar is very dry and sandy, you may use salt without detriment. But if too damp it will make the matter worse." A picture of farmers and farm scenes in the West, drawn by this expert limner, is worth a frame. " If any one goes to Holland they are all Dutch farmers there; if he goes to England he finds British husbandry ; in New England it's all Yan- 108 HENRY WARD BEECHER. ii! kee farming. A man must go to the West to see a little of every sort of farming that ever ex- isted ; and some sorts we will affirm, never had an existence before anywhere else — the purely indigenous farming of The Great Valley. With- in an hour's ride of each other is the Swiss with his vineyard, the Dutchman with his spade, the "Pennsylvany Dutch" and his barn, the Yankee and his notions, the Kentuckian and his stock, the Irishman and his shillalah, the Welshman and his cheese, besides the supple French and smooth Italian, with here and there a Swede and a very good sprinkling of Indians. "Away yonder to the right is a little patch of thirty acres owned by a Yankee. He keeps good cows, one horse only (fat enough for half a dozen) ; every hour of the year, save only nights and Sabbath-days, he is at work, and neat fences, clean door-yard, a nice barn, good crops and a profitable dairy, and money at interest, show the results. What if he has but thirty acres, they are worth any two hundred around him, if what a man makes is a criterion of the value of his farm. But a little farther out is a jolly old Ken- tucky farmer, the owner of about five hundred acres of the best land in the county, which he tills when he has nothing else to do. He is a great hunter and must go out for three or four days every season after deer. He loves office quite well, and is always willing to 'serve the m HENRY WARD BEECHER. 109 public * for a con-sid-er-a-tion, as Trapbois would say. As to farming, he hires more than he works; but now and then, as at planting or har- vesting, he will lay hold for a week or a month with perfect farming fury, and that's the last of it. A> to working every day and every hour, it would be intolerable ! He is a great horse raiser, is fond of stock, and if a free and easy fellow, ready to laugh, not careful of his purse, nor particular about his time, will ride over his grounds, admire his cattle, his blue-grass pasture, his Pattons and his Durhams ; and above all, that blooded filly, or that colt of Sir Archie's, our Kentucky farmer will declare him the finest fellow alive, and his house will be open to him from year's end to year's end again. "Right alongside of him is a 'Pennsylvany Dutch,' good-natured, laborious, frugal and pros- perous. He minds his own business. Seldom wrangles for office. Is not very public-spirited, although he likes very well to see things pros- perous. He farms carefully on the old approved plan of his father, plants by the signs in the moon, seldom changes his habits, and on the whole constitutes a very substantial, clean, in- dustrious, but unenterprising farmer. "Then, there is a New York Yankee. He has got a grand piece of land, has paid for it, and got money to boot; he knows a little about everything ; he • lays off* the timber for a fine, 110 HENRY WARD BEECHER. large house — bossed the job himself. When it is up he sticks on a kitchen, then a pantry onto that, then a pump room on that, then a wood- house on that, and then a smoke-house for the fag end ; a fine garden, a snug little nursery, well- tended, good orchards ; by-and-by a second farm, pretty soon a boy on it, all married and fixed off; by-and-by again another snug litde farm, and then another boy on it, with a little wife to help him ; and then a spruce young fellow is seen about the premises, and after a while a daughter disappears and may be found some miles off on a good farm, making butter and raising children, and has good luck at both. The old man is get- ting fat, has money lent out, loves to see his friends, house neat as a pin, glorious place to visit, etc., etc. But who can tell how many sorts more there are in the great heterogeneous West, and how amusing the mixture often is, and what strange customs grow out of the mingling of so many diverse materials. It is like a kaleidoscope, every turn gives a new sight. We will take our leisure, and give some sketches of men, and man^ ners, and scenery, as we have seen them in the West. "About eight years ago a raw Dutchman, whose only English was a good-natured *yes' to every possible question, got employment here as a stableman. His wages were six dollars and board; that was thirty-six dollars in six months, ■"I HENRY WARD BEECHER. Ill his to irts est, 'hat so .pe. our laH' the »an, to as land iths, for not bne cent did he spend. He washed his own shirt and stockings, mended and patched his own breeches, paid for his tobacco by some odd jobs and laid by his wages. The next six months, being now able to talk 'goot IngHsh/ he obtained eig'it dollars a month, and at the end of six months more had forty-eight dollars, making in all for the year eighty- four dollars. The second year, by varying his employment, sawing wood in winter, working for the corporation in summer, making garden in spring, he laid by ^loo, and the third year $125, making in three years ^309. "With this he bought eighty acres of land. It was as wild as when the deer fled over it and the Indian pursued him. How should he get a living while clearing it ? Thus he did it. He hires a man to clear and fence ten acres. He himself re- mains in town to earn the money to pay for the clearing. Behold him ! Already risen a degree, he is an employer ! In two years' time he has twer y acres well cleared, a log-house and stable, and money enough to buy stock and tools. He now rises another step in the world, for he gets married, and with his amply-built, broad-faced, good-natured wife, he gives up the town and is a regular farmer. "In Germany he owned nothing and never could ; his wages were nominal, his diet chiefly vegetable, and his prospect was, that he would be ^ mM r.^H 1 iBH 112 HENRY WARD BEECHER. obliged to labor as a menial for life, barely earn- ing a subsistence and not leaving enough to bury him. In five years he has become the owner in fee simple of a good farm, with comfortable fixtures, a prospect of rural wealth, an indepen- dent life, and, by the blessing of heaven and his wife, of an endless posterity. Two words tell the whole story — industry and economy. These two words will make any man rich at the West. "We know of another case. While Gesenius, the world-wide famous Hebrew scholar, was at school, he had a bench-fellow named Eitlegeorge. I know nothing of his former life. But ten years ago I knew him in Cincinnati as a banker, and a firstrate one, too ; and while Gesenius issued books and got fame, Eitlegeorge issued bread and got money. At length he disappeared from thf city. Travelling from Cincinnati to Indian- apolis, a year or two since, I came upon a farm of such fine land that it attracted my attention and induced me to ask for the owner. It belonged to our friend of the oven ! There was a whole township belonging to him, and a good use he appeared to make of it. Courage then, ye bakers ! In a short time you may raise wheat instead of moulding dough." A many-sided man. Indeed he was. Preaching, lecturing, farming, attending to domestic drudgery, bringing up a family of children, nursing a sick wife, writing HENRY WARD BEECHER. 113 arm tion It was ood en, lieat Iting upon the political economy of the app.e, the cost of flowers, the sounds of trees; giving agricul- tural societies advice, making suggestions as to improving breeds of hogs and catde, showing how to cut and cure grass, discussing the effect of lime upon wheat, advising when and how to clean out cellars, broaching novel theories of manure, exploiting upon the science of bad but- ter, giving recipes for the care of feathers and the guarding of cherry trees from cold, making pleas for health and floriculture, showing the pleasures of horticulture, talking of the practical use of leaves, publishing virtually a library of some five hundred volumes about fruits, flowers and farming, in which, under pleasant disguise of phrase and illustration, the most solid and sub- stantial advice was given — a many-sided man indeed, and a hard worker all the time. A hard life and yet a perfect school. Residents of the West to-day, the boundless West for hundreds and hundreds of miles beyond the West of Beecher's pastorate, may know to a certain extent, and even that limited, the trials, the hardships through which this young minister, rich in head, affluent in heart, but poor in pocket, endured. And yet that life with its privations developed in him a strain of affectionate gratitude to the few who helped him, which ran through his entire life, and broadened and deepened into his most impulsive current of action. 114 HENRY WARD BEECHER. One instance occurs to memory in tliis con- nection. Poor as he was in Indianapolis, he was poorer still in Lawrenceburg, and when it had been de- termined to give him a call to the church in In- dianapolis, one of the principal men in that con- gregation drove over with a double team to Lawrenceburg to have a talk with the young preacher about moving his children and house- hold affairs. To his surprise he found him in abject poverty. He knew, of course, that he had been a benefi- ciary of the Home Missionary Society at the East, and in a general way understood that his life, like that of all home missionaries, was garlanded with trouble and educational embarrassment, but he had no idea of the poverty which meant, literally, not a dollar in the house, and, literally, not a second suit of clothes for any member of the pas- tor's growing household. Touched as any gener- ous man would be by this condition of affairs, he aided Beecher from his own pocket, and leaving his daughter, a little girl of twelve years of age, in Mrs. Beecher's care, he said to his new pastor, "It will be more comfortabh for you to drive Mrs. Beecher and the children over in my wagon. You do so, and I will go over in the public con- veyance." Mr. Beecher thanked him and accepted the of- fer. HENRY WARD BEECHER, 115 ms^ The little girl was bright and cheerful and aided materially in getting things ready for re- moval, and on the following day the team was brought from the livery stable and the Beechers drove to their new home. There their friend awaited them, and, with what Kossuth, years after, called " material aid," extended to them not only generous and encouraging hospitality, but that earthly friend above all others, a substantial gift of money. A friendship so begun necessarily ran into ultimate intimacy. Years rolled on. The helpful man died, the little girl grew to woman's estate, married, bore children, and be- came a widow. The Beechers had moved East and were in circumstances of unquestioned ease. Dur- ing a visit to Indianapolis, but a year or two prior to his death, Mr. Beecher called upon the daugh- ter of his old friend, and found her very poor and in great trouble. He told hei she must come to the East and spend the summer, she and her little family, with Mrs. Beecher and himself in their Peekskill home. She demurred, very naturally. Nothing further was said. On Mr. Beecher's return he told his sympathizing wife all about it, whereupon she, with characteristic zeal, went out, purchased clothing for the woman and her children, which, with a substantial sum, she sent to them in Indianapolis accompanying an invitation for them I 'i i 116 HENRY WARD BEECHER. all to come East and spend the summer. This invitation was accepted, and when the months rolled around and it was time for them to go back, they went without empty pockets and with hearts even fuller than their wallets. A simple, yet a most suggestive fact in Beecher's life, and quite characteristic of many acts of kind- ness, of courtesy and of apparent generosity — generosity, indeed, so far as the recipients were concerned, but in his mind a simple out-working — normal, proper. Christian — of fruit of early seed. "Happy," said Mr. Beecher, "is the man that loves flowers !" He found in all his troubles and embarrassments a never-failing rest, a source on which he could always depend for change of thought, in the sanctum of his agricultural paper, in his garden and in the little plot behind his Western home. And as it was there, so in all his later life he found rest and comfort with flowers and trees. He communed with nature; mountains were to him an inspiration ; flowers were to him like the touch of a friendly hand. Among other things he wrote : " He who does not appreciate floral beauty is to be pitied like any other man who is born imperfect. It is a misfortune not un- like blindness. But men who contemptuously reject flowers as effeminate and unworthy of man- hood, reveal a certain coarseness. Were flowers fit to eat or drink ; and were they stimulative of passions, or could they be gambled with like stocks HENRY WARD BEECHER. 117 and public consciences, they would take them up just where finer minds would drop them, who love them as revelations of God's sense of beauty, as addressed to the taste, and to something finer and deeper than taste, to that power within us which spiritualizes matter and communes with God through His work, and not for their paltry market value." Every sentence seems to have a purpose. In this utilization of whatever was at his hand Beecher was pre-eminent. Take this foi in- stance : " How one exhales, and feels his child- hood coming back to him, when, emerging from the hard and hateful city streets, he sees orchards and gardens in sheeted bloom — plum, cherry, pear, peach, and apple, waves and billows of blossoms, rolling over the hillsides, and down through the levels ! My heart runs riot. This is a kingdom of glory. The bees know it. Are the blossoms singing ? Or is all this humming sound the music of bees? The frivolous flies, that never seem to be thinking of anything, are rather sober and solemn here. Such a siofht is equal to a sunset, which is but a blossoming of the flowers. " We love to fancy that a flower is the point of transition at which a material thing touches the immaterial ; it is the sentient vegetable soul. We ascribe dispositions to it ; we treat it as we would an innocent child. A stem or root has no sug- 118 HENRY WARD BEECHEP gestion of life. A leaf advances toward It ; and some leaves are as fine as flowers, and have, moreover, a grace of motion seldom had by flowers. Flowers have an expression of counte- nance as much as men or animals. Some seem to smile ; some have a sad expression ; some are pensive and diffident; others, again, are plain, honest, and upright, like the broad-faced sun- flower and the hollyhock. We find ourselves speaking of them as laughing, as gay and co-- quettish, as nodding and dancing. No man of sensibility ever spoke of a flower as he would of a fungus, a pebble, or a sponge. Indeed, they are more life-like than many animals. We com- mune with flowers ; we go to them if we are sad or glad ; but a toad, a worm, an insect, we repel, as if real life was not half so real as imaginary* life. What a pity flowers can utter no sound ! A singing rose, a whispering violet, a murmuring honeysuckle, oh ! what a rare and exquisite mira- cle would these be ! "When we hear melodious sounds -the wind among trees; the noise of a brook falling down into a deep, leaf-covered cavity ; birds' notes, espe- cially at night ; children's voices, as you ride into a village at dusk, far from your long-absent home and quite homesick ; or a flute heard from out of the forest, a silver sound rising up among sil- ver leaves, into the moonlighted air ; or the low conversations of persons whom you love, that jit HENRY WARD BEECHER. 119 at the fire in the room where you are convalesc- ing ; when we think of these things we are apt to imagine that nothing is perfect that has not the gift of sound. But we change our mind when we dwell lovingly among flowers, for they are always silent. Sound is never associated with them. They speak to you, but it is as the eye speaks, by vibrations of light and not of air. " It is with flowers as with friends ; many may be loved, but few much loved. Wild honey- suckles in the wood, laurel bushes in the very regality of bloom, are very beautiful to you, but they are color and form only. The seem strangers to you. You have no memories reposed in them. They bring back nothing from time. They point to nothing in the future. But a wild-brier starts a genial feeling. It is the country cousin of the rose; and that has always been your pet. You have nursed it, and defended it ; you have had it for companionship as you wrote ; it has stood by your pillow while sick ; it has brought remem- brance to you, and conveyed your kindest feelings to others. You remember it as a mother's favor- ite ; it speaks to you of yov r own childhood — that white rose bush, that snowed in the corner by the door ; that generous bush that blushed red in the garden with a thousand flowers, whose gorgeous- ness was among the first things that drew your childish eye, and which always comes up before you when you speak of childhood. You remem- iii 120 HENRY WARD BEECHER. ber, too, that your mother loved roses. As you walked to church she plucked off a bud and gave you, which you carried because you were proud to do as she did. You remember how, in the listening hour of sermon, her roses fell neglected on her lap, and how you slyly drew one and another of them ; and how, when she came to, she looked for them under her handkerchief, and on the floor, until, spying the ill-repressed glee of your face, she smiled such a look of love upon you, as made a rose forever after seem to you as if it had smiled a mother's smile. And so a wild rose, a prairie rose, or a sweetbrier, that at even- ing fills the air with odor (a floral nightingale, whose song is perfume), greets you as a dear and intimate friend. You almost wish to get out, as you travel, and inquire after their health, and ask if they wish to send any messages by you to their town friends." " He was full of sentiment," say his critics. Yes, he was, and if he had not been " full of sentiment " he never could have written as he did when a lad, when a man, when an old man, to friends about friendship, to his people about the love of Christ, to the public about the everlasting arm of protection, a protection attainable by every one who cares to ask it. Read this bit of sentiment. He is fishing and moving along the bank of the Connecticut river hoping for trout. He says: "The HENRY WARD BEECHER. 121 to to the ing he he trout are yonder. We swing our line to the air and give it a gentle cast toward the desired spot, and a puff of south wind dexterously lodges it in the branch of the tree. You plainly see it strike, and whirl over and over, so that no gentle pull will loosen it. You draw it north and south, east and west ; you give it a jerk up and a pull down ; you try a series of nimble twitches ; in vain you coax it in this way and solicit it in that. Then you stop and look a moment, first at the trout and then at your line. Was there ever anything so vexatious? Would it be wrong to get angry? In fact you feel very much like it. ' The very things you wanted to catch, the grasshopper and the trout, you could not ; but a tree, that you did not in the least want, you have caught fast at the first throw. You fear that the trout will be scared. You cautiously draw nigh and peep down. Yes, there they are, looking at you and laughing as sure as ever trout laughed ! They understand the whole thing. W^ith a very deci- sive jerk you snap your line, regain the remnant of it, and sit down to repair it, to put on another hook ; you rise up to catch another grasshopper, and move on down the stream to catch a trout ! " Meantime, the sun is wheeling behind the mountains, for you are just at the foot of the eastern ridge of Mount Washington (not of the White mountains, but of the Taconic range in Connecticut). Already its broad shade begins to '\ 122 HENRY WARD BEECHER. fall down upon the plane. The side of the moun- tain is solemn and sad. Its ridge stands sharp against a fire-bright horizon. Here and there a tree has escaped the axe of the charcoalers, and shaggily marks the sky. Through the heavens are slowly sailing continents of magnificent fleece mountains — Alps and Andes of vapor. They, too, have their broad shadows. Upon yonder hill, far to the east of us, you see a cloud shadow making gray the top, while the base is radiant with the sun. Another cloud shadow is moving with stately grandeur along the valley of the Housatonic ; and, if you rise to a little eminence, you may see the brilliant landscape growing dull in the sudden obscuration on its forward line, and growing as suddenly bright upon its rear trace. How majestically that shadow travels up those steep and precipitous mountain sides ! How it scoops down the gorge and valley and moves along the plain ! "But now the mountain shadow on the west is creeping down into the meadow. It has crossed the road where your horse stands hitched to the paling of a deserted little house. "You forget your errand. You select a dry, tufty knoll, and lying down you gaze up into the sky. O ! Those depths ! Something within you reaches out and yearns ; you have a vague sense of infinity, of vastness, of the litdeness of human life and the sweetness and grandeur of HENRY WARD BEECHER. 123 divine life and of eternity. You people that vast ether. You stretch away through it and find that celestial city beyond ; and therein dwell, oh. how many that are yours! Tears come unbid- den. You begin to long for release. You pray. Was there ever a better closet? Under the shadow of the mountain, the heavens full of cloudy cohorts, like armies of horsemen and chariots, your soul is loosened from the narrow judgments of human life and touched with a full sense of immortality and the liberty of a spir- itual state. Au hour goes past. How full ha. it been of feelings struggling to be thoughts, and of thoughts deliquescing into feeling. Twilight is coming. You have miles to ride home. Not a trout in your basket! Never mind, you have fished in the heavens and taken great store of prey. Let them laugh at your empty basket. Take their raillery good-naturedly; you have certainly had good luck." Full of sentiment — can any read this and re- gret it ? The eight years of hard work soon sped away, leaving, at the close, the Beechers in about the same physical and pecuniary condition as when they had left Lawrenceburg. The father had grown mentally, morally, physically ; his reputa- tion had extended, his foot was pressed more firmly upon a highway which bade fair to lead to prosperity in time, he had made a marked im- 8 •^M 124 HENRY WARD BEECHER. presslon by his writing, he had stirred up revivals of religious feeling, he had benefited his town, every substantial fellow-citizen was his friend ; but the wife and mother had failed. Whatever may have been the fact, she was convinced that Indian- apolis was no place for her. Physicians even were in vain, and despair apparently held the key to the situation, when a door, facing eastward, was providentially opened, and a step was invited, which, when taken, led to the possession of a very continent of effort, success and correspond- ing influence. §i~ III. REMOVAL TO BROOKLYN -i# IN 1847, Henry Ward Beecher was thirty-four years of age. Mentally he had now become broader and looked over wider fields than when he began to labor. Morally he was as sincere, as truthful, and as ingenuous as when he opened his big blue eyes with astonishment at the Bible stories he heard at "Aunt Esther's" knee. Phys- ically he was a picture of vigorous health. He stood about five feet eight inches high. His large, well-formed, well-developed head sat defiantly on a short, red neck, that grew from a sturdy frame, rampant and lusty in nerve and fibre and blood and muscle. He had no money, owned no real estate. His capital was in his brains, and they needed the culture procurable in the metropolis alone, where libraries and book-stores, art gal- leries and men of thought were to be met at every turn. A career in the East was far from Beech- er's thoughts, and yet his sick wife seemed to need a medicament not to be found in the West. Among the many merchants, who from time to time returned to their New York homes to report (125) 126 HENRY WARD BEECHER. the singular sayings and Pauline preachings of the Western orator, was one who lived in Brook- lyn, and had incidentally learned that two or three members of the Church of the Pilgrims were con- templating a second Congregational church in that city. To them he communicated his impres- sions of the man he had heard in Indianapolis, and advised them to send for him. The step seemed risky, for even then Brooklyn was known as the City of Churches, and men of mark in divers de- nominations were drawing audiences to their feet. Among others at that time were Dr. Bethune, of the Dutch Reformed Church ; Dr. Constantine Pise, of the Roman Catholic Church ; Dr. R. S. Storrs, Jr., of the Congregational Church ; Dr. T. L. Cuyler, of the Presbyterian Church, and facile princeps, Dr. Samuel Hanson Cox, of the First Presbyterian Church, one of the oldest or- ganizations in the country. Obviously to bring an untried man to a place like Brooklyn was venturesome, to say the least. So it was arranged that Mr. Beecher should be invited to come East for the purpose of address- ing the Home Missionary Society, which was shortly to celebrate an anniversary, and that then the Brooklyn church should ask him over to fill its pulpit one or more Sundays. The plan worked like a charm. Mrs. Beecher was overjoyed at the prospect of a trip that might benefit her health and enable HENRY WARD BEECHER. 127 her to see her Eastern relatives and friends, and Mr. Beeciier was more than glad of anything that would relieve the monotony of a sick-room and bring him in contact with a side of the world that was as truly Greek to him as — well as Greek itself With scanty wardrobe, old-fashioned and rusty at that, the couple started eastward. The difference in their appearance may be inferred from a remark made by an old lady on the cars. Mr. Beecher had jumped from the train to the platform at one of these stations to get " Ma," as he always called his wife, a sandwich. " Ma " sat gloomy and sad- faced, and attracted the attention of die old lady, who approached her and said, sympathizingly: " Cheer up, my dear madam, cheer up. Surely, whatever may be your trial, you have cause for great thankfulness to God, who has given you such a kind and attentive son." That settled Mrs. Beecher for the remainder of the journey, and made her cup of misery more than full. How- ever, though the lady knew it not, she was rapidly nearing the haven in which she was to find a glowing welcome, rein vigo ration of mind and body, and an anchorage of safety for life. Mr. Beecher was a cuccess from the moment he opened his lips in the Broadway Tabernacle. In those days " Anniversary Week" was an institution. The great men of the nation spoke from their platforms. The evangelical expeditions against ill 128 HENRY WARD BEECHER. i the Heathen, Intemperance and Slavery were or- ganized, equipped and started then and there. Each year the respective advocates returned with their reports. The Tabernacle was always crowd- ed, and some of the best thoughts of the churches' best men were uttered in speeches from that pulpit. Henry Ward Beecher, per se, was unknown ; but his father and his elder brother and sister were known to every one at all familiar with church affairs. Consequently, when the sturdy son of Lyman Beecher rose to speak he was greeted by a friendly audience, and soon found himself at home, although his garb was not in accordance with the fashionable cut of his hearers. He attended the dedication of Plymouth Churc but was as inno- cent as a lamb of any knowledge that he was ever to become part and parcel of it. He felt ham- pered here. His heart was in the West, and he longed to be home again. He was invited to remain and preach a few Sundays. That meant <|^25 and a welcome each week in the house of one of the churchmen. The health of Mrs. Beecher seemed to improve, and her husband reluctantly consented to contin'je awhile. David Hale, John T. Howard and Henry C. Bowen were the original promoters of the Ply- mouth Church movement. The First Presby- terian Church then worshipped in a brick edifice I HENRY WARD BEECHER. 129 fronting on Cranberry street and running through to Orange, which, as they were about to remove to a new building on Henry street, was for sale. It stood on revival ground. There the Rev. Dr. Carroll had converted and baptized hundreds of the children of the leading families of the city. There the Rev. Dr, Samuel Hanson Cox had fought with characteristic vigor the battles of the church. There it was that Dr. Cox made his famous reply to a criticism on his vocabulary. '* He coins too many words," said one of his hearers. *' If you read your dictionary more, you would find that the wOids are already coined," replied the Doctor, There the fashion and the culture and the wealth of young Brooklyn had for years gathered. But Brooklyn was grow- ing. Its handful of villagers had now developed into a cityful of 50,000 people. Communication with the metropolis was comparatively easy. The advances of art and science were utilized by the corporate authorities, and surface roads were con- templated through some of the principal streets. It seemed a pity to tear down the old church, even though fashion was moving away from that section of the city. So when its trustees were approached for the purchase of the church building, with the understanding that it was to be continued for church use, they listened with acquiescence, and as Mr. John T. Howard, who made an offer for it, had a brother and three brothers-in-law in the 130 HENRY WARD BEECHER. ministry, he was informed that he could have it at a bargain. $20,000 was the price asked, where- upon Mr. Howard gave his individual check for jji2,ooo, ten per cent, to bind the bargain ; and this, by the way, was the only money ever paid by in- dividuals, as the Plymouth Society, immediately upon its organization, assumed the bargain and paid the $20,000 to the representative of the First Presbyterian Church. Plymouth Church was then organized. And after a few sermons by Mr. Beecher, who had been invited to speak there, a formal offer was made to him, concerning which h'^ hesitated. It seems he had been called to the Park Street Church, in Boston, about the same time. Both churches wanted him, and concerning the struggle that ensued Mr. John T. Howard writes as follows: " It was on that first Sunday when, although no church was yet organized, we had earnestly opened our hearts to Mr. Beecher and told him of our desire that he should come and work with us. Mr. Bowen and I were walking up Hicks street with Mr. Beecher, after the morning service, urging our suit. He had received a marked compliment in the shape of a formal call from the old Park Street Church, Boston ; * But,' said he, ' I don't want to go there. I don't want to build on another's foundation, and I must confess that I find myself very strongly attracted to your enter- prise, because here I could start my own church l!'-il HENRY WARD LEECHER. 131 my own way, and bnild it from the ground as I think it ought to b(i.' "Well, that gave us hope, of course. But he went away under no pledges, and we were still pleaders. He was strongly anchored in the West, both by his own affections md by strong influences brought to bear upon him. During the following months our hopes went up and down. The ven- erable Dr. Beecher, his father, wrote to me, beg- ging that we would not tempt Henry away from the West ; he was settled in Indianapolis, the political and business centre of a great State, at a point of great influence, where he could do great good, and it would be folly to remove him. The good Doctor said also, in conversation, to some friends, that in Indianapolis Henry would make a mark, but in the vicinity of New York he would simply sink out of sight among the greater men, and have no especial influence, except in a very limited sphere. "Yet, we urged our suit, aided by Mr. Cutter and other friends, and, still other influences con- curring (the health of Mrs. Beecher, who was suf- fering greatly out there, being a prime considera- tion), he began to yield. " It would probably seem rather a comical sight to the younger members of the church to see* Mr. Bowen and myself in each other's arms, cry- ing and laughing and capering about like a couple of school-boys ; yet that sight might have been 132 HENRY WARD BEECHER. seen the evening that Mr. Bowen came to my house with a letter which he had received from Mr. Beecher. It was sealed with one of those little picture-seals of paper in vogue in those days. The picture was of a gate thrown from its fastenings, and the motto, * I'm all unhinged.* That told the story, and the result we are rejoicing over during this happy week." But to continue: The council that assembled to examine the young candidate soon found that their task was no ordinary one. They asked the set and formulated questions, but received very strange and unexpected answers. On the broad ground of God's supremacy and man's responsi- bility they found him sound, but he seemed to put more faith in the love of Christ, in the doctrine of charity and in the oneness of the Father and his children, than in the time-honored dogmas and doctrines of the churches. The wise-heads doubted, and for awhile it was by no means certain that they would take the responsibility of seating him in the pulpit. They might have saved them- selves their trouble. If every man of them had voted " no," it would have made no difference. Then, as now ; then, as through the dark days of outspoken abolitionism ; then, as in the perilous period of the war for the Union ; then, as in the sickening scandal, Plymouth Church believed in Henry Ward Beecher first, last, and all the time. He was adopted and settled, in spite of the pro- HENRY WARD BEECHER. 133 test of his venerable father. " Don't, I beseech of you," he wrote to Mr. Howard, "don't induce Henry to leave the West. He has a great field here, and is brought in contact with men of influ- ence and all the members of the legislature. He will be buried in the East." There, is no doubt that the son shared the father's apprehension. " I came East," he said, •' with a silken noose about my neck, and did not know it." That the benefit his wife would derive from a residence here was a great point with Mr. Beecher is well known to his friends. He felt that she had been overtasked in all her early married life, and desired that she should now begin to enjoy the advantages of civilization. At all events, he sold out his few effects and came to Brooklyn. His wardrobe was in a sad condition, and that of his wife was worse. One of the first things done by their friends was to replenish their stock of cloth- ing and make them presentable. Although the new pastor was thirty-four years of age, he appeared about twenty-five. He wore his hair long, no beard was permitted to grow, and a wide Byron collar was turned over a black silk stock, and his clothes were of conven- tional cut. His hair was thick and heavy. His eyes were large and very blue. His nose was straight, full and prominent. His mouth formed a perfect bow, and when the well-developed lips parted they disclosed the regular, well-set teeth. m 134 HENRY WARD BEECHER. There was nothing clerical in his face, figure, dress or bearing. He was more like a street evanofel — a man talkinof to men and standinq: on a common level. The first thine he insisted on was congregational singing. The organ was not a very fine instrument, but it did its duty, and a large volunteer choir led the singing — at first. "At first," but after a while the congregation was the choir and the orq^an the leader. Mr. Beecher had the pulpit cit away, and on the platform placed a reading desk. In this way he was plainly visible from crown to toe, and whether preaching or sitting, every motion was in full view of the crowded assemblao^e. Instead of resting a pale forehead on a pallid hand, and closing his eyes as if in silent prayer while his people sang, Mr. Beecher held his book in his red fist and sang with all his might. Although not a finished singer, he had a melodious bass voice, and he sang with understanding. As he did so his eyes would take in the scene before him, and it needed no wizard's skill to detect its power over him. Ever impressible, and as full of intuitions as a woman, he felt the presence of men and women. Time and again the tenor of his discourse was altered at the sijiht of a face. Incidents of the moment often shaped the dis- course of the hour. He laid great stress on the influence of con- "^ECHEK ii, H,S prime'?" 'N HIS PULPii. n I' 1 ( \ I ij a L P w ri HENRY WARD BEECHER. 137 gregational singingr. It brought the audience to" a common feeling. It made them appreciate that they were not only in the house of worship, but that they were there as worshippers; part of their duty being to sing praises to the Most High. His prayers, too, attracted great attention. The keenest eye, the most sensitive ear never detected an approach to irreverence in Mr. Beecher's manner in prayer. He prayed, it is true, as a respectful son would petition a loving and indulgent father. It was noticed that he addressed his prayers very largely to the Saviour. In his sermons it was the love of Christ on which he dwelt. It seemed as if he delighted to put away all thought of the Judge, and to keep always present the tenderness of the Father and the af- fection of the Elder Brother. The little church was overcrowded. Hundreds applied in vain for seats. It became the fashion to "go to hear Beecher." Thousands went to criticise and ridi- cule. Thousands went in simple curiosity. It was soon the affectation to look down upon him. He was called boorish, illiterate, ungrammatical, uncultivated, fit for the common people only, and a temporary rushlight. Dr. Cox, an old friend of Lyman Beecher, to whom the new-comer ex- pected to turn for advice as to a father, said, " I will give that young man six months in which to run out." It is doubtless better, in treating of the senti- 138 HENRY WARD BEECHER. ment, the feeling, the determination of another, to fall back, if possible, upon his own, his individual and well-considered utterances. Fortunately this can be done. For on a significant occasion twenty-five years later, when Plymouth Church was celebrating its silver wedding, Mr. Beecher made a reminiscen- tial address, quotations from which necessarily photograph himself and his first appearance as pastor of Plymouth Church infinitely better and with greater accuracy than any other can. He said among other things: "I find myself met, in beginning my work this evening, with some embarrassments; among them, the vast swarm of memories that arise. The history of twenty-five years of active labor, almost unbroken by sickness, running through such a period of time as the last twenty-five years has been, both in the world at large and in our own nation, such a history as this gathers about itself a great abun- dance of materials ; and to the pastor of such a church there are so many things which have happened, and which were full of life and excite- ment, that to attempt to abridge them within the compass of any reasonable time, would be to at tempt an impossibility. And yet, to cpeak of anything except that which I have been in vivid and living sympathy with, the inward life of the church, would be almost like a mockery. And so I oscillate between the two. HENRY WARD BEECHER " Th«.-^ -I '139 '"S of my own perTonr t? •'"°"'' °'' '"=' ^P^^''" Shan s.isryti::fXzfir r"-"- ' however, tliat men have T! <: . *" ""^ °P'"'°". too much to intense J,^r "^'"^ ^ S°°d deal that if the wo k wh"h God '""''' '"^"^" ' -^ -an were made mo e th^th """""fJ" ''"*'^'''^"»' Gospel would get back ,! / of discourse, the it had when it 4s ore! TT. °^ "'*' P^'^^'" which hne spoke I, aldlTndl m t ""^ K^ "''° '" ^^^ personal experience rlh u "^ '"' P^^^^hing a or formal statement " "'^" '''^ dialecticifm 't '^^'^TJrittZ r''>-<- ^"'^ ^"-- own mission here o ml\r"' P'^^^^ing my -ian churches i^ tSin' l^rH^^ ' '^^=''^- continuous revivals of .»!• ■ , ^P'"'- and throughout all that region S, u'^ P''"^^"^d revivals with all my hel JY^-^^'^"^'" '^ose And when, from reasonfl ^'" ^" ^^ ^°"'- I was brought to thk " f,I """^ "°' detail, the ardor wfn h ha5 h " 1^' ^ '""'^ with al of saving souls ^*"'"^ '" ^is work "At my first coming, I had n„ i •narked out no future-^ h J u P'"""'' ^ had hsh. no system to found t "° ""^""^^ '° ^^tab- no oppiatr 5Tn;rd°"r '° 'r^"^"' ^ Kind. I remember dis- r. % 140 HENRY WARD BEECHER. tinctly that over and over again I held account with myself; and I came into this field simply and only to work for the awakening of men, for their conversion to Christ, and for their upbuilding in a Christian life. I had almost a species of indiffer- ence as to means and measures. I cared little, and perhaps too litde, whether I had or had not a church building. I thought of one thing — the love of Christ to men. This to me was a burn- ing reality. Less clearly than now, perhaps, did I discern the whole circuit and orb of the nature of Christ; but with a burning intensity I realized the love of God in Jesus Christ. I believed it to be the one transcendent influence in this world by which men should be roused to a higher man- hood, and should be translated into another and better kingdom. My purpose was to preach Christ to men for the sake of bringing them to a higher life. And though I preferred the polity and economy of the Congregational churches, yet I also felt that God was in all the other churches, and that it was no part of my ministry to build up sectarian walls ; that it was no part of my ministry to bombard and pull down sectarian structures; but that the work of my ministry was to find the way to the hearts of men, and to labor with them for their awakening and conversion and sanctifica- tion. "I have said that I had no theory; but I had a very strong impression on my mind that the first HENRY WARD BEECTIER. 141 five years in the life of a church would determine the history of that church, and give to it its posi- tion and genius ; that, if the earliest years of a church were controversial or barren, it would take scores of years to right it ; but that if a church were consecrated and active and energetic during the first five years of its life, it would probably go on through generations developing the same features. My supreme anxiety, therefore, in gathering a church, was to have all of its mem- bers united in a fervent, loving disposition ; to have them all in sympathy with men ; and to have all of them desirous of bringing to bear the glo- rious truths of the Gospel upon the hearts and consciences of those about them. " Consequently I went into this work with all my soul, preaching night and day, visiting inces- santly, and developing as fast and as far as might be that social, contagious spirit which we call a revival of religion. In the first years of my min- istry in the midst of this people, much fruit was given us ; and among the steadfast members who have labored earnestly with us from that day to this, are those who were gathered in during the first months of my ministerial life here. From year to year the same spirit prevailed, and the history of this church has been one of great and glorious revivals. These revivals are not the less to be desired and sought, and are not the less argu- ments of gratitude to God, because there is even 9 If L 142 HENRY WARD BEECHER. a higher type of labor than that which is developed in them ; for if through the ministrations of re- vivals the spirit of the church becomes so ripe, and the members of the church live in such near- ness to God and heavenly things that their ordi- nary conversation and their daily labor are awakening and converting men, then this per- manent state of the church, this long summer, ripening everything on every side, is even better than any fugacious revivals of religion. Never- theless, churches go through a long training before they reach this higher state. And in the begin- ning, in all the early periods of church life, it is a great blessing, to be desired and labored for, that they may be visited by those special outpourings of the Spirit of God which merge into each other, and byandbylift the church into perpetual summer. " It may be said, if you divide the life of this church into periods of five years (such has been the computation), that the last five years of its history have been marked by greater ingathering, without any special revivals, than any other period. In 1858-9 the most extraordinary works of grace were in progress in our midst. There has been a steady rise, on the whole, intermitted somewhat by national excitements. There has been a steady increase in the ratio of the waken- ing and conversions during the last twenty years; and the last five years have been more fruitful than any other equal period in our history. its ler Irks lere [ted Ihas len- irs; Itful mm MRS. HENRY WARD BEECHEIi. Il ■■^i ■^'' 11 HENRY WARD BEECHERI 145 "I may speak of the life and the influence of this church, first, in reference to what ! think to have been its fundamental inspiration. I should not be just to the divine truth, or the divine wit- ness, if I did not affirm my earnest, my thorough, my deep conviction, that the power of this church has not resided in those things which have attracted the most attention, and perhaps been the most remarked. 'The Kingdom of God cometh not with observation.' That part of our churcb life which has been subject to inspection and re- port has been effect, and not cause. My own im- pression is, I am certain, that the secret of the life and the success of this church has lain in the abid- ing influence in it of faith and love toward the Lord Jesus Christ. This has been the living root; and every branch that has brought forth either blossom or fruit has sprung from its vital connec- tion with this root. . " My judgment and personal testimony, as it respects the efficiency of my own ministry, is, that although it has embraced a vast variety of topics, it has derived its force simply and mainly from my deep and ardent faith in the Lord Jesus Christ, who, to me, fills the whole sphere of affection. And I can say, and have been able to say through the years that are past since my connection with this church began: 'Whom have I in Heaven but Thee ? ' At certain times, I felt almost as the apostles did, who had seen Christ and walked tP '' M 146 HENRY WARD BEECHER. with him, and were witnesses of his early life ; and during all my ministry the secret of my support, and of the vital piety of the church itself, has been a living, personal faith in the Lord Jesus Christ. And this church has been an assembly of men whose bond and union with each other, and the spirit of whose power in the community, have been Jesus Christ in them. " In preaching Christ, a change of emphasis has certainly been made in the ministration of this church, as compared with the emphasis which has aforetime been given to theology in New Eng- land. The theology of New England has been accustomed to put the emphasis upon conscience, and that which it represents — law. Conscience was accustomed to predominate ; and it was in- timately connected with fear; and conscience and fear were largely developed as prime constituents of religion. But, partly from my own personal experience, I suppose, and partly from other cir- cumstances, although in a rude way and scarcely knowing ^vhat I did, I laid the emphasis, from the beginning of my preaching-life, upon the great truth of divine love. And as that became more and more disclosed, and by-and-by recognized as a philosophical principle in my experience, I made that primary, and conscience and fear secondary. " I have never sought to rid preaching of the element of responsibility, nor of a wholesome fear; but I have said that these should be the offspring HENRY WARD BEECHER. 147 and nts nal cir- .ly ;he reat try. iar; of love, and that hope and love, corroborated by fear and duty, were the true representation of the spirit of the Lord Jesus Christ, and of His Gos- pel ; and I have intensified this and given great prominence to it in every form of teaching, and in all the modes of my administration here; i.id among the fruits which have flowed fr^m this, has been the surcharge of the great element of divine love. ' God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son.' He loved the world before the atonement. It was love out of which that was born. It was love that filled the spheres, and filled the infinite heart, one of whose manifestations was the earthly life of the Son of God, Jesus, our Master. One of the fruits of the disclosure, and emphasis, and application of this truth, first, middle, last, and all the time, in every relation, has been the development in this great church — now of more than 3,000 members, either connected with it or yet living elsewhere — of a spirit of fellowship, of concord, of co-operative wisdom, and of harmony therein, which I think has scarcely had a parallel in the history of Chris- tian churches. " Consider that our lines have been cast in stormy times, and that this church has been gathered from every quarter of the community ; that it has had in it men representing every shade of theological opinion ; that there are in it speci- mens of almost every recognized sect in Christen- !: IK i !! I nil: 148 HENRY WARD BEECHER. dom ; and that during the great discussions of human liberty, and the great social movements of the late war, it favored all the reforms which were developed throughout the community, and discussed them in open meetings, where every man had the utmost liberty of speech. Yet there has been an unbroken unity among us. For twenty-five years in this church there has not been a seam, nor a crack, nor a flaw. There has not been a time when it has been needful for the pastor or officers to take counsel how to keep the church from rending itself It has been held together without resort to any special measures. There has been in this great body substantial unity. And I attribute it to the effect of that divine love which has entered into the hearts of this people, and which they have emphasized more than any other Christian experience. . " There has been another element that was not doctrine. From the earliest period of the history of this church its life has been developed along the currents of music. We have been a singing people. No community sings where they do not sing in the household, in the church, and in all the minor meetings of the church. And from the very beginning of this church there was given it a desire for the ministry of sacred song. It has become a characteristic element in the develop- ment of its life and of its labor. All our people sing. The aged and young alike, in the congre- HENRY WARD BEECHER. i4r ait.-r gation, sing. In all the meetings of our church, from first to last, the spirit of sacred song has been warm, strong, impetuous. I believe that, largely, the church has been indoctrinated in a better form of theology through the ministration of hymns and tunes. I believe that hymns in this church have taken away the causes out of which have sprung so many divisions in other churches, and that a thousand sermons cannot put down heresy so fast as a hundred hymns. In the battle which we have been waging, hymns have been the best reinforcements. Hymns and tunes to- gether have lifted the heart of this congregation, time and time again — yes, through consecutive years — to the very threshold of the heavenly land. We think of those who are gone when we sing. We think of heaven ; and we can almost hear the echoes of song there. We that are here on earth, and they that are there, sing together. There has been a voice of continuous song through this house, and through all the avenues to it ; and our singing of hymns has had no inconsiderable part in the development of the church life which has existed in our midst. " Then, this church, as the result of its sympathy with God, and of its sympathy with men, which has sprung from the great doctrine of Christian love, has, from the beginning, been a church alive in all the great social reforms of our time. If this church had been founded merely as an anti-slavery 150 HENRY WARD BEECHER. society, or a temperance society, or a moral re- form society, I should have considered its life hardly worth the attention given it; but the sym- pathy which it has had in the movements of God's providence in the world at large, has been the fruit and product of its religion. It has been that which has been derived as a logical sequence and philosophical necessity from this doctrine of divine mutual love which has been taught and practised among us. It has been impossible to live and care for man and make him a son of God; it has been impossible to make a practical reality of the command, ' Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thy- self;' it has been impossible to disclose what Christ has done for the race in living, in dying, and in living again — it has been impossible to do these things and yet leave men indifferent to any- thing which concerns mankind. "Thus, out of this truest spirit of Christian love — of reverential love to God, and sympathetic love to men — has sprung the labor of this people in the temperance cause. It has not been a fanaticism. In the main, it has not transgressed those principles of individual liberty which are so strongly associated with our policy. And yet it has not been lost sight of This church has been an advocate for abstinence from the beginning; and though it is not made a condition of member- ship, it is a matter of inquiry and moral influence as regards the candidate who comes into the HENRY WARD BEECHER. 161 church. Temperance, with us, is a product of religion, and not its substitute. "I suppose, in many parts of the land, Ply- mouth Church is a name synonymous with anti- slaveryism or abolitionism. I have heard it said that the main business of this church in the be- ginning was to preach against slavery. Yet, looking back even upon the years in which this church was most active in its efforts to over- throw slavery — those preceding the war — my im- pression is, that not, perhaps, more than once or twice in a year was the subject of slavery made a matter of discourse ; and that, perhaps with the exception of one or two periods of tlie year, the teaching and conversation of the church turned upon the deeper themes of personal experience, and upon religion as it exists and is talked about in all our Christian bodies. Yet, when its testi- mony was given, it was always given with no un- certain sound, and with an intensity that revealed the depths out of which it originated. And although there has been here a large mixture of men who differed in judgment and opinion on the subject of slavery, and although there have been numbers who were actually opposed to anti- slavery views, yet the church in its united influ- ence and testimony has been a church that stood up for human freedom from the very beginning, "In the first sermon that I preached on the first Sunday night after I came here, was a dec- 152 HENRY WARD BEECHER. laratlon that those who took pews in the church and attended my preaching, might expect to hear the Gospel applied faithfully to questions of peace, and war, and temperance, and moral puri- fication, and liberty, and that there should be no uncertain sound on these subjects. During the earlier periods of my ministry here, and perhaps for the first twelve years, I made it a point, just preceding the renting of the pews, to show my hand with all the power that I possessed, to de- clare my opinions on the subject of slavery, in order that no man might be deceived, and that it might not be supposed that popularity or seduc- ing sympathy had changed the intense conviction of Plymouth Church in respect to the great and fundamental truths of human liberty. ** So this church has borne its testimony. What its power has been I know not. It has been great. It is not for us to magnify and ex- aggerate it, but it is a matter to me of profound satisfaction that for twenty-five years Plymouth Church has stood up in this nation, in stormy md troublesome times, and been a faithful witness, without a single retrocession, to the great truths of human right and human liberty. "And when, as the result of such agitations, and from the divine logic, hidden from us, but un- folded in its own season, discussion broke out into a flame of war, this church did not flinch, but gave its sons and daughters, sending them to HENRY WARD BEECHER. 153 the fields and hospitals ; and during the war this church never uttered an uncertain word. At its close that same beneficent spirit which springs from the divine love ruled mainly in the hearts of this people ; and there was not one house, I think, in which they for a moment harbored re- venge, or had any other than those feelings which become citizens, friends. Christian men. " In connection with this, I may mention that the history of this church has been a history of very strong development of patriotic feeling. The members of all churches are patriotic to a degree. It has seemed to me, however, that the love of country, looking at it from the highest point of view, not as representing corn and wine and warehouses and ships and merchandise, but as representing men, and men ai surrounded by educating institutions and reformatory influences, was lacking in some churches. But in this church there has been a living, patriotic life for twenty- five years; and we have lived, worked, prayed, and given for the whole country, and have been proud of it in a proper sense of the term pride. The nerve of patriotism has been quickened by religion here, so that nothing could be said on this platform which affected vitally the interest of the whole country, without there being a response to it throughout the whole of this congregation and church. This church has labored for the whole nation, and has had a broad sympathy with it ; and not only for the nation, but the world. m. 164 HENRY WARD BEECHER. "In regard to the particular labors of this church, being thus prosperous, and having in its communion much wealth, it is a matter of pecu- liar gratification to me that its life has been so largely devoted to the promotion of education and of religious instruction in behalf of those who were less fortunate than it. It is sometimes said that a poor man cannot get any access to the church ; but I venture to say that the heart of this church has beat upon the bosom of more poor men than that of any other communion. It may be that it has been difficult to get into this place ; but when the service here has been closed, there has been a dismission of the congregation and a distribution of he men and women in every direction, to carry out the spirit and in- struction of Christianity to those who were defi- cient in them. "There has grown up in the ministration of this church a series of mission-schools. It has been thought wise by those who have taken counsel in the matter, that there should not be churches established, but there should be mission- schools, which should become centres in which men and women of the church should labor di- rectly with the congregation for moral influence. And in doing this, the brethren felt that it was not enough to simply run up a building which should keep off the elements — • plain and substantial,' as the saying is — and give it to the poor. The HENRY WARD BEECHER. 155 feeling of the brethren of Plymouth Church has been, from the beginning, that when we made a gift to the poor, it should be a gift, not according to their experience, but according to our ex- perience ; that we should take the best things which Christianity and civilizing growth have done for us, and fashion them into an offering, so that when it went into the hands of the poor, they should receive a specimen of the very best things which God in his providence had done for us. " I have heard of churches that went to heaven in a first-class building and furnished a second- class one for the poor. We have reversed it, and have built first-class structures for those who were not able to build for themselves, putting into them more money, more expense and more of the element of beauty than we have here in our own house. The Bethel and Navy Missions are better equipped than Plymouth Church itself is. And it is not an accident; it is a part of that generous view of piety which exists in this church, and which makes us feel that we are not to give what we can spare ; that we are not to give the crumbs which fall from our tables; but that we are to give the best that we have to those that are needy. We have not stopped with giv- ing money ; we have given our sons and our daughters. We have not kept the best at home ; the best has been given. And I bear witness, in ^66 HENRY WARD BEECHER. regard to the young people of this congregation, that they have, multitudes of them, given their labors in the week, rising early and sitting up late, as great as those which have been sustained by the pastors in ordinary country churches. And my impression is, respecting the members of this church as a whole, that they have been devoted, diligent, faithful and disinterested, and have given a round of labor far greater than has appeared. It is not their desire that there should be any ostentatious statement of it ; they wait for their reward in the heavenly land ; but my testi- mony is, chat the fruitfulness of this church, its steivdy growth, its confirmed power, is owing more to its membership than to any instruction which has issued from the desk ; and that the power of this church has been like the power of a cathedral, the spire may be lifted as high up in the air as you please, and tike more of the first and last light of the sun in the morning and at night ; but it is the broad cathedral itself that stands on the ground which supports it. The spire may fall and the bells may cease to chime, but still there will be a temple below that will not go down. And this church has had its power, not in its pulpit, but in its whole living member- ship. " I need not go into details to show what the work of this church has been at large. It has not held its hand back from any worthy movement, HENRY WARD BEECHER. 167 that I am aware of. Foreign missions, home mis- sions, and the preparation of men for the minis- try, have received its sympathy and support. It has had a vital interest in the establishment of schools and colleges. Some of the most magnifi- cent gifts of our era have come from members of this church, in founding colleges and schools, and the work is still going on. Not all of it is known. Many are silently, without noise, building in their native villages schools and academies, being them- selves, I may say, patrons and architects in good works." After a few months the church took fire from a defective flue, and although not entirely destroyed, was badly damaged, and the trustees concluded to pull it down and build anew. Meantime they put up an immense temporary structure on Pierre* pont street, near Fulton, which they called the Tabernacle. There every Sunday immense crowds of strangers and visitors from other pa- rishes assembled to listen to Mr. Beecher. Already the newspapers had discovered the pith of the preacher and made him noted in the land. His utterances were never commonplace, his manner was always fresh, his illustrations ever new. He never avoided issues. Indeed, it was charged that he was sensational because he talked and taught about the topics of the hour. He rarely preached a doctrinal sermon, and when he did there was a kind of explanatory protest with 158 HENRY WARD BEECHER. it, as much to say, " I don't really believe I know anything about this, but it can't do any harm." At first he dealt largely in practical lessons to the young men who formed a large part of his con- gregations. It was often remarked that while the proportion in other churches was five women to one man. in the Tabernacle, and later in Plymouth Church, the proportion was reversed. This is accounted for by two facts — young men, clerks, students and those who lived in boarding houses felt at home in that church ; and the hotels of New York sent over hundreds every Sunday, who considered " hearing Beecher preach " one of the essentials of their business in New York. At all events there they were, and Mr. Beecher made it a rule of his life-work to address himself to them. He never bombarded the Jews, he left the hea- then to their normal guardians, he avoided a decision of questions raised in the Garden of Eden, and left the sheep and the goats of ancient history to follow the call of their shepherd. His flock was before him. His duty was to care for the men and women who sat in the pews of his church and thronged its aisles and packed its galleries. He was human and avowed his love for man. Their weaknesses were his, and he called on them to seek a common physician. The clergyman of fashion was pale and fragile ; HENRY WARD BEECHER. ■■"^ where he ™hed T If •'" "^ ^''"^^'^ ''"M- and never wore a nair °f '^^'"■'^"Sth mirror, "fe. When he ascen J7?'''"""^"'^^^ '" Ws his way throu^ he nt^ ", P'''""°™- "'^^^'-ff and pa„,„^ the c r^ /of b"°""" T '"' ^'^"^ ledge, he slung nis oft fi 7' P"''^''^'' °" *« table, put one let overl "' ""''^'' = «"'e Ws rubbers, thre^w S, 1° r''r'''''^''^'-^-°-'l ■■n his chair and eaveT , ?''' '^''^^'^ ''''"^elf a restful breath Tfte/h.? °[ "'"' ^^ '^ 'I-- In otherwords,he wa3 a ''"'I """^ '■^°'" ''°"'«- If the air seem;d close h .""' °" "^^"'^ ^uty. -e bitter with the w Tettel' '"' ""^^P'" Tabernacle was too smlTf u P' °"- "'« ^ongre.^ation included Ta"„ l' "■°*^^- H'^ =°fal circles, merchants XfV" ''°°'' '''^h '" and literary men of J. ^'■'' ""^P^'^' J"dges ing the burden and the hetl Ttf'T'' ^'^'■ fessor Finn v took him k \ *^ ^^y- Pro- held and the entire ^itywaTfilf ^'"'"^^ ^^^^ enthusiasm. Gradual t? "'^ ^''■''' ^^^'ous Mr. Beecher chaled"^ h' ^"'"T^ ^""^''^ ^f "^'ker. Hewande^redalonjr ""'^^ ' ^'^^^ v's.ted studios and read ab„i """'■''■°"'- He ««• He was proficient in P^'"'"" ''"^ '^eir varieties, and wherland ifT ' '^"^"' "-e Arboriculture and horK^ ""^ ^'^^-^ "^^rfe. -re specialties wltht^*^"''^," '"t ^^"-''"- feat fo.,ndries of this dtv . ""^^ ^"°"" '" '^e -•-• He visited s ;.; L LVit'" '"'° ^'^■ barest friends, who was t u ' """^ °'" h's -ve-al years, h; studird^t:! Tr^^ ^°^ tne art of ship-building. 162 HENRY WARD BEECHER. ji'.'k He was versed in the lore of the pole and line. He had rare fowling-pieces and the most fanci- ful facilities for field and river sports. That his people benefited by this habit let his illustrations attest. From birds and flowers and all manner of mechanics, from industries of every name and nature, he drew pictures, arguments and convinc- ing assertions in analogy that clinched the nail of his discourse already driven home by the power of his eloq'.ence. When the new church was built it faced on Orange street, where the old lecture-room stood. On Cranberry street a supplemental building was erected ; on its ground-floor the lecture-room, and o". the next the Sunday-school rooms and what one then called the Social Circle parlors. For- getting that Brooklyn was not exactly a rural township, Mr. Beecher was pained to observe that while Mr. A knew Mr. B, Mrs. A had not the pleasure of knowing Mrs. B, and that while in the church every one was a " dear brother or sister," out of the church such social distinctions existed as utterly precluded any real Christian feeling. This he thought was all wrong and subversive of gen- uine brotherly love. So he resolved to change it. Without much consultation he announced on Sunday that on a specified evening the parlors would be thrown open, and all the people were invited to appear and make each other's acquaint- 'S^^'^M HENRY WARD BEECHER. 163 ance. He said he and his family would be there, and he thought it high time that the brethren and sisters of his church knew a little something of each other. The Social Circle assembled. A few of the old families of Brooklyn responded because they wished to please their pastor, but the attendance was mainly such persons as had every- thing to gain and nothing to give in return. Young men and young women went for fun and had it, but the attempt was Quixotic and the scheme impracticable. Oil and water in a tum- bler would mix sooner than social elements in a metropolitan city. It was entirely proper in theory, but it didn't work in practice, and Mr. Beecher was compelled to abandon the idea. Success, however, attended him on every other line. His pews were rented at high rates, his reg- ular congregation was large and respectable, his church membership grew rapidly and the influx of strangers was so great and so constantly in- creasing that their accommodation was an utter impossibility. The liberality of the Plymouth pastor was a sore point with his critics. He al- ways contended for his right to beliefs of his own, and as vigorously defended the right of others to beliefs of their own. His church membership soon became eclectic. Presbyterian and Congre- gationalists were not so far apart that their union 164 HENRY WARD BEECHER. -fl caused remark, but presently a few Baptists joined the church. Mr. Beecher said, " You must believe and be baptized, and it's for you to de- termine how you will be baptized. I am content with any symbol, however slight ; but if you prefer to be immersed and we have the conveniences for it, it's your faith, not mine." In other words, the fact was essential in his mind ; the form was of no consequence. A baptistery was built beneath the pulpit platform, and he often immersed those who desired to be baptized that way. Sweden- borgians. Spiritualists, and even Quakers and Episcopalians joined the communion of Plymouth Church. Indeed, one of the pleasantest features in Mr. Beecher's experience was the favor he found with clergymen of other denominations. Father Pise, the learned and devout Constantine Pise, for many years the loved and honored pas- tor oi" the Catholic Church of St. Charles Bor- romeo, in Sydney Place, Brooklyn, was a warm friend and admirer of Mr. Beecher, and many of the Episcopal, Baptist and Methodist clergy were bound to his heart with ties of love and sympathy. The love of Christ was his constant theme. One of the first of his endeavors was to root out fear and substitute love in the church. Contrast- ing the piety of the age with that suggested by a Being who is all love, in one of his earliest dis- courses he said : " The Christianity of the present age is dead compared with what it should be. HENRY WARD BEECHER. IGo When I lived out West our wells were all dug very shallow, and when a drought came the water failed. Then we sent a man down into the well to dig another within it, and by and by he came to water iar below the first well. But if the rain was long withheld this well also failed. Then the man was sent a third time to dig and dig, until at length he struck the living springs, which flow perpetually, which no drought can affect. Many people think that after conversion religion will take care of itself. That water once gained there will always be a sufficient supply. There are whole churches whose religion is but a few feet deep. As long as showers are abundant this may do, but when they do not fall often the wells are dry. Let this not be so with you. Sink the shaft deeper and deeper still, until with- in you bubbles up tV'-^t living water which run- neth from beneath thv one of God. Don't de- pend on showers of grace. Be not at all content until the ri^er is within your own souls. "We must either conclude that the piety of the present day is a different thing from what it was intended by Christ to be, or that he spoke the language of exaggeration. That he did not thus speak we know by the momentary elevations which we experience, when we rise into some nearness to the place where it is our right always to stand, and can return with rapture the smile of our Father's love. There are seasons when PiMfceaiiiMBaE«y MJig B ca aB» 166 HENRY WARD BEECHER. ■'., i 1 1 i 1 our souls exhale, and sit singing, like birds, in the very tree of life. " O ! when I look upon the sun, and see what it has power to do ; when I see that on the bar- ren soil it flinofs a warm and radiant scarf of light, and that beneath that scarf springs up life ! life ! life ! and gorgeous beauty, and lavish and redolent bloom, I know that the Sun of Righteous- ness has a greater power than this, if men's stiff, and frozen, and faithless hearts will but open themselves to his rays. "The love of God! who can fathom it? We soon cloy with honey ; 'tis not very hard to sat- isfy ourselves with sugar; even of bread we may tire; but who ever tired of air? All day we breathe it ; at morning, at noon, at night, all night — all our lives, and we are r .;. weary. Love is the vital air of the soul. •' Every earthly pleasure wearies, but of spirit- ual pleasures we never tire. The more we are filled with them, the more hungry and thirsty after them we grow ; and we are more sure, the more we taste the love of God, that it can fill us, and be always about us, and be always peace and everlasting joy. "Why do we not bud and bloom more glori- ously beneath the shining of this Sun of love ? " It is because we have portioned Him, we have limited Him, we have not consecrated to Him the whole of our lives. We give Him our Sabbaths, Jr- HENRY WARD BEECHER. 167 our morning and our evening hours of prayer, our feelings of solemnity and self-condemnation, our hours of depression and tears ; we go to Him in trouble, and gloom, and fear, we call upon Him early when all is dark about us; but from our business, from our pleasure, from our social and common life, we put Him away. Our brightest and most agreeable, and our busiest and most useful hours we keep for ourselves and our fel- lows ; but we go with our unhappy and unattrac- tive moods and feelings, with long, forlorn faces, and tearful eyes, to wait upon our God. Can this be well-pleasing in his sight .-* If a lover or a bridegroom gave his chosen fair a diamond to wear upon her breast, and she should wear it joy- fully at all times save when she came into his presence, and then should carefully hide it from sight, would he not have a right to complain ? But what diamond ever sparkled with so radiant a light as shines from a smile upon the human face ? and when it is a heart-smile, it hath a price- less value. God gave man power to smile — and man only, of all creatures, possesses that power — why should he seek to hide his smiles and in- nocent mirth from Him who made and loves them ? " And about the same time he shocked the town by saying : " The ministry is inclined to think that a truth has no chance at all with refined and educated 168 HENRY WARD BEECHER. men, unless it has a refined dress. Now, al- though it is true that such men do look for what shall accord with their delicate and elevated tastes, and although even the truth of God is bet- ter if presented in chaste and elegant language, there are always, in every man's heart, great chords underlying all these lighter desires, which will answer instantly and powerfully to the touches of feeling, even though it be rudely expressed. When a man overflows, and in his efforts to ex- press himself knocks his language in all direc- tions, his honest, earnest, outright, downright feeling is the power which moves. It would be mightier were it well expressed, but the feeling is the thing after all ; and when a man holds back feeling until it chokes in the sand, that he may present a correct and refined discourse, he be- trays Christ to rhetoric. "When Paul said he was determined to know nothing but Christ, and Him crucified, he was upon this same theme. He was telling the peo- ple that he was not going to tickle their ears with fine, smooth periods. He said : * My power upon you shall not be in my refined and elegant language, in my persuasive eloquence. It will not be in me at all, but in my moving subject, Christ and Him crucified.' He was going to throw over them no lasso of ensnaring art ; he would declare to them the plain truth in words that all could understand and feel. Paul meant no such HENRV WARD BEECHER. thing as ministers mean n„,. j '"^ •"alee this declaration He dynT "''^" "'^>' t'lat lie should shun all m \ ' '"^^" ^Y 't on which duty called hi°f'"^ "P°" ""^ "'^s that he should meddle 1° "^"^^ °"' ^°^4 : offend the sin 1;;'^^,';'; "f'"S that could' Christ and Him fru'c fied; w^ou t'm'^r '"f '> °^ lever to heave from their f!?- """^ *'^ his the world. Such telk T, '^""^^"°"= the evils of o-utof,-conit,r„rsrs^:""'^^"'p'-' ii IV. AN OLD-TIME SKETCH OF PLYMOUTH CHURCH. :iilii IN 1862 the compiler and editor of this sketch, having access to original letters, documents and minutes, prepared the accompanying story of Plymouth Church, which will be found ^'aluable in its details of names, dates and documents, and is therefore presented in this chapter by itself. "Throughout the broad continent Plymouth Church is known. Children-churches are chris- tened with its name in every western State, and its graduates are found earnest workers in the cause of the Master, * on every shore, by every sea.' "How many love its fame, how many curse its influence, it would be hard to estimate. It occu- pies no neutral ground, is no half-friend to man or measure. From its doors are not turned away the poor or the despised. Free speech is there asylumed, and to all just causes liberal donations are made, while it is yet doubtful if there is any- where a church in which there is a larger propor- tion of man-worship and kindred evil, than in the one of which we write. (170) HENRY WARD BEECHER. 171 " In all its nobility, in all its crudity, I propose to present it, trusting, that if by reason of many years constant attendance at the worship in that church I am able to do so fully, I am so thor- oughly imbued with the spirit of fair play which is earnestly taught there, as to be guilty of neither overpraise nor unjust criticism. " Four men are responsible for the initiation of the enterprise : " David Hale was one of the best of men. His head was clear, his heart was warm, his every impulse Godward and manward, and his life one round of philanthropy and benevolence. His public career is matter of record, but no account was ever kept of the numberless deeds of private charity, of unmentioned assistance rendered to fellow-creatures in distress, or of moneys by the quantity disbursed unostentatiously, for the bene- fit of others. " Henry C. Bowen was a man of rare executive ability ; prompt, quick to conceive, with great power of combination, of extensive commercial connection, and of undoubted business sagacity. "Seth B. Hunt possessed unusual perceptive faculties, a kind heart, sound judgment, the confi- dence of a large circle of ' solid men,' and quali- ties otherwise most desirable in a leader. " John T. Howard combined with extraordinary tact a most rare and valuable faculty of absolute reticence, which, with his undoubted goodness of hW I ! ms^BKitti : i^io;?.. U M 172 HENRY WARD BEECHER. heart, his extensive experience in the conduct of religious enterprises, and his large social acquaint- ance, rendered him a 'good man to have around* at times when reserve of speech and go-aheadity of action were desired. "These persons, in the year 1846; were mem- bers, the first mentioned of the Tabernacle Church in New York city, the others of the Church of the Pilgrims in Brooklyn. Although not exactly dissatisfied with their then existing relations, they were convinced that a wide ana unoccupied field of influence was open to them in the city of Brooklyn, and they determined at all events to take the first step towards the starting of a church by procuring a house of worship. At that time the First Presbyterian Church in Brook- lyn was the pastorate of the venerable and excel- lent Samuel H. Cox, D. D., and occupied prem- ises, then situated in Cranberry street, between Henry and Hicks streets, on what was known in years gone by, when Admiral Stringham was a boy, and paid court at the shrine of Miss Hicks, as the 'Hicks farm.' The boundaries were irk- some io the church, it needed more room, and although the delightful memories of the days of Sanford and Carroll were most intricately inter- twined with the very structure itseif, it seemed nec- essary that a change of location should be made, and it was generally understood that if any orthodox church should desire to purchase or lease the prop- HENRY WARD BEECHER. 173 erty, there would be iio obstacle placed in its way. This fact attracted the attention of the four gentlemen mentioned above, and they determined, if all things worked well, to buy the property and organize a Congregational church. " Between the rather liberal Congregational- ists and the somewhat straitlaced Presbyterians there was not at that time the friendly ^eeling which happily now exists, and it was a very doubt- ful matter whether the baro-ain could be as favor- ab!y made if it was known for what purpose the property was wanted. " The negotiations were placed in Mr. Howard's hands, and he proceeded to sound the owners as to their views in the matter. No amount of pump- ing or cross-examining could draw from the nego- tiator his purpose in the purchase, and at last it was suggested by, I think, the wordiy president of the Union Ferry L ompany, Hon. Cyrus P. Smith, that, as Howard had some half dozen broth- ers-in-law in the Baptist ministry, he v/as no docibt acting for some new society which proposed to setde some ono of the brothers as pastor. However that may be, they soon came to terms, and for the moderate sum of ^20,000 the church, lecture-room, pastor's study and eight lots of ground, with the b^ !, clock, fixtures and furniture were transferred from the First Presbyterian Church to the gentlemen as named. The sum of |j2,ooo was paid by the purchasers to bind the 174 HENRY WARD BEECHER. bargain, and upon their notes, discounted in Wall street, they raised the entire purchase money, thus obviating any personal inconvenience, while they secured for the use of the then unborn society a most desirable property. "The First Presbyterian Church could not, of course, at once remove from the old edifice, and until the spring of 1847, no further action was taken in the matter. The property was then vested in David Hale and his fellow-purchasers with the intention of forming, at an early day, a religious society to which the same should be transferred, it assuming all incumbrance and ob- ligation. The regular anniversaries were soon to be held, and it was thought that at that time it would be well to inaugurate the enterprise. "When the Church of the Pilgrims was started, and its membership was casting about for a pastor, Mr. Howard, then a member of that society, presented for consideration the name of the Rev. Henry Ward Beecher, but so little was known of him by the members generally, and so desirous were they all to secure, as they eventually did, a man of the first order of intellect, of culture and influence, that when the vote was taken Mr. Beecher received but one vote, and that the vote of his proposer. At this time, however (1847), Mr. William T. Cutter, a well-known citizen of Brooklyn and a friend of Mr. Hale, was travel- ling at the West, where he heard Mr. Beecher in Her HENRV WARD BEECHBR. "'s own pulniV i-i„ ^''5 h n, to Mr. Hale, sininlv J ^ concerning- fr-end of any „a„ ZthZ T ^^"'^^ '^"'e to f are striking. """8^ ^^ose characteristics * ihe seed ft^Ji ' •«'^' -'-A no a' S ^°°' ^~""^' «"<1 Mr -o'e him a kind aL™;: "'' '''•• ^eecher.' f" to the anniversary.^Cr-T"'"'"" '° ^°"- Mr. Beecher's inclination an j:"'''°" '=''"^'' ^^''th "H« attended the me.?" ^''^«Pt^ yeH ment here. entirely against a settle- ..h. an'd^^ttL" ot: i?srr'^^^- '"^ shall proceed homeward ''^"''' ^^''^" ^ " 'David Hale, Esq.' " ' "' ^- ^^=^"=«- "The council which was call^^ . j . -■-•tH. and consider tHe^tj::?^::: t^ma ^al ^i^> vO^X^ IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) / O "-^^ ^ ///, ^te^ y. C/a % .0 I.I 1.25 14^ 1.4 — 6" IM 22 1.6 Va & /} >m o el e c"i ■>- ''V Ss. ^/ /^A ■A /1^» ^A ^* V f ////^ ^ / Photographic Sciences Corporation 23 WEST MAIN STREET WEBSTER, NY. 14580 (716) «72-4503 m. ^^ V ^x "9> V ^ \^' w- luld ter- ;re lon- lery of it, and these few I shall introduce here, at the risk of being considered personal. They were : " Henry C. Bowen, Lucy Maria Bovven, Eli C. Blake, Benjamin Burgess, Mary Burgess, Mary Cannon, David Griffin, Richard Hale, Julia Hale, John T. Howard, Rachel Knight, John F. Morse, Rebecca Morse, Jira Payne, Eliza Payne, Charles Rowland, Maria Rowland, Alpheus R. Turner, Louisa Turner, John Webb, Martha Webb. " On the appointed day these persons, in the presence of a very fair audience, voluntarily cove- nanted with God and each other, thnt they would conserve and advance His interests on the earth, and that towards all men the utmost Christian charity should be shown. ** Rev. Dr. Storrs preached a sermon, and the occasion was one of unusual interest. "Of course, the first question in order was: Having a church, what shall we do with it ? The most absolute unanimity prevailed, and one ob- ject was in common view. "On Monday evening, June 14, 1847, ^^^ church considered the question of extending a call to their pastorate, and having resolved to invite some one at once, the motion to invite Mr. Beecher was carried, eight votes being cast in his favor and none for any one else. Mr. Beecher was duly notified of the call, but delayed answer- ing for several weeks. It was an entirely new idea for him ; he had regarded the West as his 1 186 HENRY WARD BEECHER. home, and the Western people as the field here- in he should work, and it required no little force of argument and persuasion to convince him that duty demanded his acceptance, even of so flatter- ing a position and such brilliant prospects. It is doubtful whether he would have accepted a call from an established church, but there was, as he said, something pleasant in the idea of beginning an enterprise, of fashioning its build, of watching its growth and directing its labor, which "ppealed directly to his love of work and harmonized with his mode of operation. '• Many letters passed between him and the leaders of the movement, in which points doctrinal, practical, national and local were fully discussed and explained, after which he wrote the following letter of acceptance : "•Indianapolis, August 19, 1847. " 'Dear Brethren : I desire to convey through you to the Plymouth Church and congregation, my acceptance of the call to the pastoral oiifice tendered by them to me. " ' I cannot regard the responsibilities of this im- portant field without the most serious diffidence ; and wholly putting my trust in that Saviour whom I am to preach in your midst, I can heartily adopt the language of Paul, *' Brethren, pray for us, that the word of the Lord may have free course and be glorified." 1 Ice n- )in )pt lat Ind HENRY WARD BEECHER. 187 " * It will be necessary for me to remain yet for some time in this place, biit I hope to arrive in Brooklyn in the middle of October, or at the furthest by the first of November. " 'I am in Christian love, most truly yours, " ' H. W. Beecher. " • To John T. Howard, H. C. Bowen, Charles Rowland, and others.' "On the I ith of November, 1847, ^ council for the examination and installation of the pastor met in the lecture-room, which fronted on Orange street, the church fronting on Cranberry street. "After a tedious ;='xamination, which was only re- lieved from absolute stupid'ty by the amusing controversies between certain dog atic brethren and the candidate, on the old-fashioned and in some respects cheerful doctrine of the persever- ance of the saints, the council concluded that he was all right, and if he wasn't, he wanted to be, and that they would approve the choice. *' I remember distinctly looking in at the solemn assemblage, and enjoying, youngster as I was, the facile handling of the dignified body by the rosy-cheeked, solid-framed individual who was replying to their serious questionings. " It is not necessary to reproduce the names of all the members. Rev. Dr. Cheever, Rev. Dr. Thompson, Rev. Dr. Hewitt, Rev. Dr. Beecher, Rev. Dr. Bushnell and Rev. Dr. Humphrey were 188 HENRY WARD BEECHER. I the most noted of the clergymen, of whom Rev. Dr. Hewitt was chosen moderator. " From Dr. Storrs, Dr. Beecher and Dr. Thompson, Mr. Beecher received the most en- couraging support. These gentlemen questioned him carefully and were content with the spirit, even if the absolute wording v/as not the most orthodox. From some of the others, however, Mr. Beecher had but little to hope. Indeed I think Dr. Hewitt would have been better content if the council had advised the young man to tarry awhile in the West, until his theological beard had attrined more courtjy proportions, but.he was unable to secure that action. "The council saw that the people heard him gladly, that the church was determined to have him and no one else, and that it would be folly on the merest and flimsiest technical pretence, to withdraw their countenance from a man who desired only the good of the world, and from a church which was anxious to afford him a field of labor. " It wouldn't have been prudent or desirable to mention this little circumstance at the time, but had the council peremptorily refused to approve him, the Plymouth Church people would just as certainly have setded Mr. Beecher as their pastor. They were not made of that material which would submit to the dictum of any body of outsiders, unless that dictum was based upon the soundest HENRY WARD BEECHER, 189 to fho of to Ibut Itor. luld principles of right and honor, and even then, sug- gestions rather than dicta would the more gladly have been received. "The installation took place that night in the church. An immense crowd witnessed the pro- ceedings, which, though prolonged to a late hour, were of sufficient popularity to detain the entire congregation to the end. "The following was the order of the service: "Invocation and reading of the Scriptures, by Rev. Dr. Humphrey. " Sermon, by Rev. Dr. Edward Beecher. " Installing Prayer, by Rev. Dr. Hewitt. " Charge to the Pastor, by Rev. Dr. Lansing. " ' The Fellowship of the Churches,' by Rev. R. S. Storrs, Jr. "Address to the people, by Rev. J. H. Thomp- son. " Concluding Prayer, by Rev. Dr. Bushnell. " The winter's work now began. " Mr. Beecher waited for no ceremony. He struck at once for a revival of Christian feeling. The house was crowded every Sunday morning and evening, and the vast audience listened with eagerness to his exposition of the truth, and his entreaties for the forsaking of sin. The week's lectures were well attended, the prayer-meetings were thronged, and from one end of the city to the other was heard the cry, ' What shall I do to be saved ? ' 190 HENRY WARD BEECHER. "Mr. Beecher spared not himself. Day and night, early and late he talked, counselled and variously labored for an indicated end, which end he had the supreme satisfaction of obtaining. " Especially among the young the work was most successful and hundreds, who before, gay and thoughtless, paid no attention to serious sub- jects, novv gave their most conscientious thought to matters of spiritual interest, and passed from gayety to cheerfulness, from thoughtlessness to labor in the cause for the Master. "At this time the officers of the church were as follows : " Pastor : Henry Ward Beecher. "Deacons: Henry C. Bcwen, Charles Row- land, ]. F. Morse. " Examining Committee : Messrs. Bowen, Row- land, Burgess, Richard Hale, John T. Howard, and Jira Payne. "Clerk and treasurer: John T. Howard. "The Sunday-school cannot be treated briefly. It is one of the features of the church, has done as much good as any other of the church organi- zations, and deserves what I propose hereafter to give, a detailed and faithful history. It was or- ganized on the 5th of September, 1847. Henry C. Bowen was superintendent and John T. Howard secretary. There were ten teachers and twenty- eight scholars. " On June 14, 1847, ^^ accordance with the laws HENRY WARD BEECHElt .„- Of the State, a meeting was held ■„..,, "■oom for the purpose of f! ** ^^'^''^• society which should I avech"""^r ^ "'^'^'""^ affairs of the church anH t ^ °^ *« ««<:"lar 7"-% with ti" 'bod' r„ f""''^ '^ »>- the great work before T P^^ecution of --electees tJusfeSth"' ''^"'■^' ^"^^^^ °f one. two. and th'e Je.rt Th ""P'^"'^^'^ yethve. Daniel Burg-ess r^ ^^ '*° fomier after identified with fh "htrt 7 rT" *^'-^- whose whole bein? Zl f ; "^ °'^ *^ <=h"reh. and concerning Z^7.^" ,"'<^ ^O'"? of good other connectLTis de / T "'°'"" '° ^^'V '"" great light went ou, tL'"' "''^" ''^ 'l-d a Church was adopted"; thi """' °^ P'^"""* --•ety in conformt; : ^ °he°d ''•"'"^ "'"'^ church organization. '^^'='"°" of the "After a year and a halfo P-'-ty. the n,en,ber;4''o;V;7,^-fd Pros- largely and desirably iLeLid t"'^^ ^^^'"S affairs of the society be.wfn;^'^ *' ''''"^" condition, the question of?^ '" "'f best possible serious one. of accommodation became a ''ad^o?eT:ftr;r'°''^^^°'"^-''''<''-en commoded. Some f™!' h"'^ ''''^^°''y ^^^^ ■•"■ '"ought little bo^ s^SerrTe:''"'-^''' f - -'^ - -«ers went on. u':::ir;trjbts 192 HENRY WARD BEECHER. building took fire and became seriously damaged. That very many of the members regretted the occurrence seems doubtful, but that any of them played the part of an incendiary has never been suggested, I believe, even by the Herald or the Express. " In consequence of the damage done the church edifice by the fire, a meeting of the society was held in the lecture-room on Saturday, January 9, 1849. Mr. James Freeland, president of the Board of Trustees, was in the chair and an- nounced the business of the meeting to be the consideration of the extent of the injury which had been sustained and the means of remedying the same. " Mr. Beecher at that moment entered the room and stated that their troubles had developed the most friendly feelings in the hearts of their neigh- bors, of which the following facts are the fruit: the Rev. Dr. Cox had formally called to offer the ur.e of the First Presbyterian Church in Henry street; the Rev. Mr. Hodge had offered the lecture-room of the Brooklyn Female Academy, then occupied by the First Baptist Church ; the Rev. Mr. Sprague had offered the Second Con- gregational Church in South Brooklyn; the pastor and trustees of the Pierrepont Street Baptist Church tendered their sincere sympathy and the use of their house on each Sunday after- noon, and Messrs. Baldwin and Hale, on behalf HENRY WARD BEECHER. 193 the my, the of the Church of the Pilgrims (Rev. Dr. Storrs), tendered their edifice each Sunday evening so long as its use might be desirable. "The sympathy thus evinced by these sister churches, some of which are of other denomi- nations, was cheering and gratifying, and was received in the most Christian spirit. "The offer of the Church of the Pilgrims seemed to be the most eligible, and it was unani- mously voted to accept it. A resolution was also passed that services should be held thenextSunday morning in Dr. Cox's church, in compliance with his kind invitation. During the ensuing week, as may be imagined, the trustees were far from idle. Daily meetings and consultations were had, and at the adjourned society meeting, which was held on the following Saturday night, Mr. H. C. Bowen stated that at a meeting of the trustees a com- mittee had been appointed to prepare a report on the state of the case, and present it to the society. Upon motion the committee were re- quested to deliver their report. "As this report was the basis of all subsequent action, I reproduce it entire: "*At a meeting of the Trustees of Plymouth Society, convened at the house of John T. Howard on Saturday evening, January 13, a committee was instituted to make the following report to the society : 1 194 HENRY WARD BEECHER. " ' The conflagration has made it necessary to incur a large ejcpense in repairing our place of worship. The expense of repairing the damage done by fire is estimated at about 1^2,400. It may not be generally known that the building is in a state requiring very general and expensive re- pairs, besides those for which we have no insur- ance. •"The furniture of the church will require a sum not less than $400 if replaced. •' ' The organ has been removed, and large expense will be incurred should another be pur- chased ; the sash and window-frames of the build- ing require thorough overhauling; the whole cornice and gutter of the main building require to be removed and remade, and the roof requires replacing. It is supposed that not less than $5,000 will be required to put the building into a safe condition for use, which sum is one-fourth of the whole original purchase-money. "'Should the church be put again into good condition, it is worthy of question whether it will answer the purpose of the congregation. We have had the experience of a year and a half That trial has satisfied us that the accommodations are far from suflficient, and are inferior in kind. The seats are not convenient and the house is espe- cially ill-ventilated. There are multitudes who refuse to attend service in the church from reason of health. The excessive and permanent incon- HENRY WARD BEECHER. 196 ife the lo w od ill lave :hat Iwho ison Icon- venience of a dense crowd in so limited a space, ought to be made a matter of serious deliberation. " ' It was by many supposed that this state of things was temporary and would soon pass away, but in fact there have been no signs of decline, and the tendency to increase Is manifest, so that the matter assumes the form of a question of duty: " • Namely, Is a church bound to meet the de- mands made upon it by the community for the means of hearing the gospel ? " • It seems to be admitted on all hands that, within five years, a larger church will have to be built, nor do we see how any other view can be taken. " * In the light of these facts and also in view of certain moral aspects of the question, which were laid down by the pastor of the church, the trus- tees have unanimously resolved to recommend to the society to proceed Immediately to the building of a new church edifice. •"(Signed) H. C. Bowen, ^ J. W. Green, > Committee* John T. Howard, ) "The members of Plymouth Society did not belong to the slow-coach organization, and it re- quired no great length of time for them to come to the conclusion that, as a new church was needed, a new church must be had. 196 HENRY WARD BEfiCHER. " Every one, however, had his own little plan, his pecuHar pet idea, his invaluable suggestion, which seemed essential to the success of the enterprise, and which was pushed with energy by each originator. That great arbiter of difference, a committee, was finally appointed. ** The wants of the community were to be met; the demands of a growing and independent organ- ization were to be satisfied ; the peculiar ideas of the pastor, who had by this time become a first- class power, were to be consulted ; and all were to be harmonized and interfitted so that the church itself might be perfect. " The community for instance wanted a large church, one to which in the evening John might take Mary, where the young men and old men might go with perfect freedom, where strangers could be accommodated, and where a cheerful hour might be spent by all. The church member- ship desired all sorts of conveniences. They wanted cheap pew-rent, and in order to secure that there must be many pews ; they wanted any quantity of little rooms for little meetings, because the pastor's boldness of speech very soon devel- oped a temerity of diction in his followers which made many a young man an ornament to the prayer-meeting, while it also entailed upon the brethren a set of blatant whiners, whose tongues, set easily on a central pivot, gabbled everlastingly and with the oiliest glibness. • . IL )er- ture [any ^use rel- ich the the ^ues, I HENRY WARD BEECHER. 199 " Thfe pastor must, of course, have a commo- dious study, the trustees needed an office, the Sunday-school and weekly meetings needed their several accommodations, while last, though at that time not least, was the pastor's original idea of a suite of Social Circle Parlors. " Mr. Beecher, than whom a more democratic person does not exist, had a desire that the mem- bers of his church should be in reality v/hat they were technically, 'brethren.' Everybody knows that churches as a generality are hot-beds of pride, gardens of caste, conservatories of harmful vanities, and treasuries of jealousies. " The broad middle aisle disdains the narrower side aisle ; the near-pulpit pews do not visit the near-the-door pews, and all of them regard the under- the-gallery pews as inferior to the last de- gree. " Isn't it so ? " Is there a church in the city of Brooklyn where social caste is done away with ? where the rich and poor, the educated and the illiterate, the successful and the witless, are 'bretheren and sisterin,* even while within the consecrated walls? " There may be, but, as I look mentally around, I don't see it. " Mr. Beecher didn't see it, and he determined, in the great goodness of his heartiness in his work, to make the church over which he presided as the Elder Brother, one whence all worldly 200 HENRY W\RD BEECHER. feeling should be banished; where s>cirlly, as heirs with Christ one and all, they might meet, converse, sing, pray and be happy in the common enjoyment of a common future. "So he suggested — and to suggest in these days was to direct — that in the new church there should be room enough to set apart parlors, for the use of the church and the congregation. " It was done, and while I am on the subject, I will ask indulgence of any chronological critic who maybe reading this and, taking it for granted that the church is built, proceed with a description of that peculiar weed which, though of undoubt- edly good parentage, soon became corrupted, and has long since rotted away. "In compliance with an invitation from the pulpit, many ladies, old and young, assembled at the parlors on Tuesday afternoon for the purpose of sewing, knitting and whatever was for the help- ing of the poor. The parlors, each fourteen by thirty-two feet, were nicely carpeted, blazing fires cheered the atmosphere, comfortable chairs and sofas abounded, and sundry pictures hung upon the walls — one of which, the wretchedest daub of a caricature that ever disgraced the pencil of an artist — purported to be a portrait of Mr. Beecher. " On long tables were arranged piles of cloth, which, by the accustomed scissorization of the driving president of the Sewing Society, soon assumed form and shape, which when fastened by HFNRY WARD BEECHER. g^j otherwise raScwJr^^^-"^ poor a„d a will for others but ,?!! ^^"'' '^°'"''«d with thread, scissor Id '1 'H"^'" ^°"' "^^^les, appeared, and bi^tTerLd '"'"""^"-^-"^ '^- a pleasant hour. "^ conversation passed young men and maiden, Tl, u '^°''''' '^en the other churches Tabroad .T '\''^"S»s from who would have been ifr "^-Vo-g ones and then, in fact, hundreds nf T °^ "' ''ome, by various motives of ot, 'T"'''^ '''■^"'" 'hither of curiosity and We ofsTo"' °'' '"^"^'^ -g-'^- "At first, possibly for thf fi . of these gatherings we evL-M?"""' ""^ '"^'"'^ prosperity of the churrhAt'^ '"t"'"' '° ">« was passed. Cheerful co^versat^n"'' ''"""'"^ enading, a little music a shoT T' ?"'" P™"" from the pastor, a prater 7. f °'^-"'ght speech devil crept i„ v^-tS ' v '"''''"• ^"' 'he for no earthly mole Ze iTofZT "'° ""•" »nd young women who deeld thl"^ "'^ ^''='^' of all pleasure to be tuT ■ ^ '"nimation *-gh the ..rmz::7z 'fT^'y hoys only too ehd to ;!• " u ^ "^"""^ with "-bers.' FlirSifp^l f---e /n great P'^oper enough elsewhere , I 202 HENRY WARD BEECHER. were carried on in the adjoining Sunday-school room, and while some played hide-and-seek in the lecture-room, the trustees' room, the little room under the organ-loft, and the upper gallery, others, briskly chased by the worthy sexton, James McFar- land, pulled the bell-rope, slid down the bannisters, and displaced the hats, caps and overcoats of the quie'. ones inside. "This, it may be urged, was only the natural ebullition of boyism, and should not be brought against the social circle system as if of it. Pos- sibly, but as I only mention it as an offshoot, it can in no way affect the conclusion. "While the younger portion of the gathering was thus developing into rompyism, what were the fathers doing ? "Early in the evening little circles formed in various corners, and about the several queen bees who might for the nonce be enthroned. In- stantly, one familiar with the social strata of the church would detect, not a hearty coming together of the membership as the pastor desired, but the absolutest of cliqueisms, the very perfection of the very pernicity which Mr. Beecher desired to eradicate by the circle. " Here and there were individuals who, knowing everybody, and having the milk of humanity yet uncurdled in their breasts, would go from group to group, and by their magnetism attempt to draw and intermingle them, but 'twas no go. HENRY WARD BEECHER. 203 lOOl the 3om lers, Far- ters, t the Ltural )ught Pos- oot, it lering i were ned in queen In- of the crether )ut the ion of red to lowing lity yet group lo draw " How clearly I can see the venerable figure, the sweet Christian-stamped countenance of dear old Father Burgess, as with kindly face and happy address he greeted one anil all, with sound, sober speech, quiet suggestion, apt counsel, congratula- tion or sympathy; and Father Freeland, whom all men called blessed, and whose prayer-meeting confessions of error seemed to be almost impious, so pure rnd genuine was his life ; he, too, was one of the attempting braziers. He was always cheer- ful, and in return met the smiling eye and the pleasant greeting and the cordial grasp of all ; but even he could not bring them together. " Great ponderous deacons, with heads hard as hammers, went solemnly around with stately soft- liness of step, chilling with their impassibility, checking mirth by the severity of their eye, august, awful and absurd in every movement, every utterance, every glance. Christian young men recently pioused, bored ineffably such youthful participators in the socialities as they could cor- ner with platitudinous averments of self-abnega- tion and virtuous intent; fathers slipped slyly behind young daughters whose bright eyes danced with delight at a favored welcome from the pastor, but were not so confident of a cordial hand-shake from their neighbors. "I don't desire to be misapprehended when I say that I do not consider such amalgamations normal. I think it far from right, for instance, for 204 HENRY WARD BEECHER. the servants in one's family to be brought into unaccustomed familiarity with their employers, at such a place, when at the expiration of the hour they will be compelled by the necessities of their position to return to their proper sphere. Not but that it might be possible for a well-behaved American girl to meet her employer at such a gathering as that, to sing with him or her from the same book, to be introduced to the same casual visitor, and perchance to accept the prof- fered arm, for the promenade, of the gentleman who a moment since paid a similar attention to her mistress — possibly it is right, but is it not evi- dent to what end it must inevitably tend, if kept up week after week ? If it is not, it will not do for me to argue it further here, but I could by the narration of just such a case very effectually de- monstrate to what termination such an abnormal social relation did carry a very bright, quick-witted servant-maid, who was in the habit of meeting at the circles persons above her sphere and beyond her depth. "What jolly times we had in singing! "At the appointed hour Mr. Beecher would take his stand at the centre of the large rooms, tap with his pencil on the door and call his flock around him. They knew his voice and went to him because they loved him and delighted in his teaching. " The sofas were forsaken, the groups broken, HENRY WARD BEECHER. 205 to at ur elr ^ot h a fom ame prof- tman >n to t evi- kept ot do y the ly de- ormal itted [Ing at eyond would (rooms, IS flock rent to in his )roken, the rompers voluntarily left their pranks, the sen- timental stole noiselessly in, the old deacons set- tled their chins, every one waited for the Elder Brother to speak. '• Many important lessons, pregnant with living truth, were taught in those social circle parlors, and seed was sown there that has been harvested all over the country. "After perhaps ten minutes' speaking, the good old * Plymou*^h Collection ' was handed around, and it really seemed as if at last the long- desired sword had been found which alone could cut the Gordian knot of clique, for one and all prepared for a loud voiced praising of the Most High, while Mr. H. E. Matthews, the very compe- tent musical director, gave from his melodeon the preliminary flourishes and the prefatory tune. "There was sociality in the singing. Every- body made a noise, did the best they could, and made the walls ring with the good old songs of Zion, which none knew better than Mr. Beecher how to select. "After this the prayer, and then, while many bade good-night to the dominie, others gathered about the melodeon-seated Matthews, and indi- cating hymn after hymn, kept him at it, feet, hands and head, till the implacable James turned off the very last gas-key. "Then off all went, and not unfrequently some mischievous boy dismally tolled the old 1 1 206 HENRY WARD BEECHER. church bell, as if to remind us that we must not think we had enjoyed ourselves all the time, simply on account oi' the last half hour. "And it was a too true suggestion. "Very soon, from the general social gatherings, sprang away smaller circles of persons whose elective affinities induced them to fraternize. Litde prayer-meetings — I mean little bands of persons — met at the houses of one and another for social singing, prayer, exhortation, and inno- cent amusement, and knots of religious prejudice were formed whose strength, then latent, subse- quendy developed to the disadvantage of the welfare of the church. " Little by little certain classes of the member- ship drew away from the week! circle. Some did not disguise the fact that it was a decided bore to meet people with whom no one faculty sympathized, and whose acquaintance was desir- able in no possible point ; others, whose sense of duty impelled their attendance, manifested such an entire indifference to the socialities of the evening that their presence was a chill, rather than a source of geniality. The bounds of de- corum being rigidly set by the officials, who locked the doors of the church throughout, the rompers kept away, and, in fact, after the circle had outlived its usefulness, it died out. "The members of Plymouth Church, as a whole, are no better acquainted with each other HENRY WARD BEECHER. 207 ilty isir- of jiich the Ither de- ;ho the ircle |s a Ither than the members of other churche? and the lesson is therefore finally taught and the proposi- tion made self-evident, viz. : that if, with such a leader as Mr. Beecher, who gave himself heartily to his work, throwing all the magnetism of his nature, his personal influence and his constant en- deavor to the bringing of his people together, the project failed, then no church can hope for absolute fraternity, no church can expect to over- ride social caste, secure commingling of unconge- nial elements, or revolutionize the popular mode of living. "There are nearly fifteen hundred (I give, of course, here but an approximate number) mem- bers of the church, and I doubt if the pastor even knows half of them by name or by sight. It is possible that Mr. Fanning, or Mr. Bell, the church clerk. Dr. Morrill, or Father Freeland, may have a nodding acquaintance with five or six hundred of those with whom officially they have had rela- tions, but let any member, and I am now speak- ing of the church members and not of the con- gregation, who imagines he knows his brethren, take the manual and check off every one whose features even are familiar to him, and he will soon observe that he knows a very small minority. " In addition to the accommodations desired for the social circle, it was found necessary to pro- vide a more ample lecture-room than is afforded by most churches. Ordinarily weekly lectures il 208 HENRY WARD BEECHER. are but slim affairs. The pastor, but barely re- freshed from his Sabbath-day duties, either looks up some old sermon, or else hurriedly prepares a sophomoric essay upon 'Virtue and its Desir- ableness,' and wearily enters the desk to find per- haps fifty or sixty persons, mainly women, in readiness for the dose. Without spirit, without nerve, without energy, without any element of manliness, he stumbles through a prayer, the au- dience attempts a hymn, and the essay is de- livered, after which the sisters gather about the desk, sympathize with the pastoral weakness awhile, the lamps are turned off, and profitless the people go away. •' That sort of spiritual manna, however, was not dealt out by Mr. Beecher. His lectures were among the most interesting, the most entertain- ingly instructive of the pastoral teachings, and the room in which they were then delivered was thronged to its utmost extent. "So, too, for the prayer-meetings it was a neces- sity that there should be a large room, one that would accom.modate two or three, and often four of five hundred people. To be sure the ortho- dox idea of a prayer-meeting suggested no such gathering as this, and it really seemed, and for that matter seems now in some churches, that the people believed that the Lord rather preferred on the whole to be with two or three gathered to- gether. How often when at boarding-school I HENRY WARD BEECHER. 209 a ir- 2r- in DUt of au- de- the ness tless 3 not ?ere •tain- the was leces- that four >rtho- such Id for It the led on Id to- ool 1 was compelled to be martyrized at a prayer-meet- ing. Time and time again, I have gone to the dismal, half-lighted room, where two or three swallow-tail-coated deacons, twenty dried-up old ladies, half a dozen younger couples, and a half- asleep pastor had met to praise and petition the Heavenly Father. A few words on missions from Brother A would be followed by a prayer from Brother B, in which the Lord was informed of His (the Lord's) greatness, goodness, and vari- ous virtues. The heathen were prayed for and a general resurrection counted on. After this the sins of the world, the great depravity of mankind, the exceeding wickedness of the wicked and other glittering generalities would be developed, de- plored and inveighed against ; then a hymn more or less refreshing, a few-pen nied collection, a long prayer from the tired pastor, a benediction, and home again. *' In Brooklyn I have attended prayer-meetings where everything dragged, everything was stupid, everything was unnatural, and of course every- thing absurd and profitless. "But this, too, was at variance with Mr. Beecher's idea. " His social instincts again broke forth, and here with much more beneficial effect than in the social circle. "There, though not by any fault of his, the social element proved a nuisance. The attempt, 13 Mm i'l: ?J0 HENRY WARD BEECHER. as we have seen, to make church-members love each other practically failed ; there was room in the heart for love, but not in the palm for the grasp ; room enough in the brain for a theoreti- cal acknowledgment of duty, but not enough in the physique to make the eye brighten, the lips smile pleasantly, or the tongue speak cheerfully. " In the prayer-meetings Mr. Beecher was em- inently successful. And as at the time of the building of the church the system was in successful operation, he found it an easy matter to persuade the trustees that he needed accommodations more than ordinarily ample. "The lecture and prayer-meeting room was forty-eight by fifty-one feet in size, and one of the most cheerful, homelike places of public worship ever seen. I say was, bev.ause it has been entirely rebuilt, and it and its associations are with the things of the past. "The reg' lar prayer-meetings of the church are three, tiie Sunday afternoon, the Friday night and the young people's prayer-meetings. The first is under the charge of the deacons, the second of the pastor, and the third, as its name indicates, is for the exclusive benefit of the younger members of the church, "The three fill different spheres, are of unequal value to the church, and run parallel to each other in no oossible way. I will look at them separately. HENRY WARD BEECHER. 211 iday ngs. the lame the ^ual ;ach them " The Sunday afternoon prayer-meeting is not a flourishinof institution. It has rather outliv»ici its usefulness, and unless more faithfully attended and cared for, would be much better done away with. Mr. Beecher preaches morning and even- ing, and of necessity the regular meeting for con- ference and prayer is thrown into the afternoon. The morning service being finished, the after- sermon gossip and other talk being over, the members of the church and conofreofation find themselves seated at the dinner-table in the neig:h- borhood of half after one o'clock. It is customary with everybody to eat heartily on Sunday, whether they are satisfied with gulping on other days or not, and, as is well known, hearty dinners produce sleepiness, and sleepiness is not conducive to piety. "At three o'clock the lumbering deacon starts for the prayer-meeting; there he finds a few sleepy Sunday-school teachers, several recent con- verts, forty children, who, in the way at home, were sent off to church, a stranger or two, and possibly a stray minister, who has dropped in ' to see how Brother Beecher's folks do things.' "The hymn given out is very likely one intro- duced for congregational use and by no means adapted to the i.eeds of a small meeting. No one can start. Brother A hums, strikes a false kej^ attempts the line, breaks down, blushes, smiles faintly, while all the little boys stuff hand- m I 'MM mm 212 HENRY WARD BEECHER. kerchiefs into their mouths, and swell like the an- cient frog. Brother B clears his throat, starts off bravely, gets through the first line, is supported by the audience and does splendidly, till when near the end of the verse, he finds he has mis- taken the metre and that his tune doesn't match his song. Possibly Brother Eames turns up by this time, and with a commendable tenor voice takes the matter up and carries it through mm voce, " By this time the leading deacon grows fidgety, the little children are nervous, the strangers find they are sold, and the audience has become tame. "The deacon doesn't mend the matter much by prayer concerning the necessities of the heathen, nor yet by bluntly asking a timid convert if he hasn't a little something to say concerning the progress of his soul in the heavenly road. "The meeting drags, the heart is wanting, the interest has died out, the people love it not, the hour is unpropitious, and as a whole it does not deserve an honorable place in the schedule of Plymouth Church worship. " Of the prayer-meeting proper, the Friday night meeting, how different an account can be given. Such cheerful, blessed seasons of communion, such genuine heart-feasts, with such glorious results, are rarely found. " It is the custom of Mr. Beecher to preside at this meeting, as it is the habit of hundreds regu- M ''^^H HENRY WARD BEECHER. 213 )t. the larly to attend. The services are few, simple and in name similar to those at any church, but the spirit, the heartiness with which they are per- formed, and the invariably good-natured faces and lightened hearts which are ensured by the even- ing's operations, are a feature at once peculiar and permanent. •' Mr. Beecher generally opens the meeting with a hymn of thanksgiving, one with the music and words of which the audience are familiar; Mr. Zundel accompanies with the piano-forte, and the utmost cordiality of feeling is the normal result. Everybody joins. Many are fine singers, others can yet only stumble, but the same road is trav- ersed by each, and from the solid bass of the pastor to the enfeebled tenor of Brother Grim, through the varied empts of the hundreds of choristers the same words, the same sentiment, the same spirit of thanksgiving, are the utterance of the -ongregation. "The reading of some appropriate passage from the Bible follows. Mr. Beecher is a peculiar reader. The graces of elocution are not apparent in his reading ; the effects are. His voice is round, full, deep ; his enunciation clear, absolute, distinct ; understanding the intent of the sentence, he gives it rather than the wording, and no one can listen to his reading of prose or verse without noticing the singular absence of technical elocu- tion, and the unusual clarity of meaning. tEI 214 HENRY WARD BEECHER. 4 " Following this is the opening prayer by the pastor. •' Prayer is a good thing. " How many, many times I have seen men whose pale faces, sunken eyes, and stooping shoulders indicated the most absolute weariness, slouched down in their seats, careless, tired and inattentive during the earlier services, revived by the refresh- ing inspiration of the pastor's prayer. His whole heart is in it. There is no Adam and Eve, no Hebrews, no roaming in and about the Delectable Mountains, no groping in the labyrinth of sen- tencism, but a hearty, straight-out, Saxon-worded petition, confession, congratulation. Earnestness characterizes the manner, and truthfulness the language. It is no wonder that the audience bend their heads, refrain from idle gaping about, join silendy in the prayer, and frequently exclaim, in the sincerity of their endorsement, Amen and Amen. " The effect is like that of a summer shower. Old men wipe their eyes, tired clerks look bright, every one feels at home, the cheerful, sympathetic magnetism of coinciding heart-current pervades the entire assemblage, and they wait for further enjoyment. "With an entire absence of cant confessions of sin are made by persons who, though in the sight of the Most High may be out of moral kilter, are to earthly vision the very best of men. There is a HENRY WARD BEECHER. 215 \y in and )wer. right, thetic ^ades irtber technical confession of sin which makes a modest man sick at his stomach ; a confession which I have rarely heard at these meetings, but often elsewhere. " I remember once hearing a may say, ' Breth- ren, I feel as though I am the vilest wretch that walks the earth. My sins are innumerable. I deserve to be instantly destroyed and eternally damned. My deeds are sinful from morning till night, and good actions are literally unknown to me. I am miserably covered with metaphorical sores from the crown of my head to die soles of my feet, and I blush with shame at mine infamy. I could die, so wretched I am and so unworthy of the vast benefits conferred upon me. Pray for me, brethren, that my sins which are scarlet may become like wool, and my life which is vile may be of the purest ray serene.' "And yet he would have been horrified if any one had charged him with lying, theft, or any of the other little vices which are debarred from virtuous living. " That sort of confession is ridiculous. " But such, for instance, as can be heard at the Plymouth prayer-meeting when the night is stormy, when but comparatively few are in, and the pleasant light and heat of the room with the disembarrassing familiarity of the meeting, make each person feel as though he was at home, and his neighbor was his brother; such, I say, are 216 HENRY WARD BEECHER. really refreshing. Silent slippings from the path of rectitude, yielding to the temptations which beset him in his business, departures from accustomed lines of duty, these are spoken of quietly, humbly, sorrowfully, not for the reputation of honesty, but rather that strength- ening encouragement may be given by the pastor, and fraternal sympathy be extended from the brethren. "In this, as in all other large churches, there are some men who talk too much. Men who have hobbies occasionally ride them, even here, a little too hard. There is a mission hobby, a poor hobby, a temperance hobby and a little story about * a boy on the dock ' hobby, all of which are trotted up and down the aisles more or less dur- ing the year, and always by the same men. "Then there are young men who turn their eyes to heaven, rolling them in ecstasy, as they describe to the ineffably bored audience the pearly gates of heaven and the transactions of the future sphere. These young men can't be put down. They have experiences, also little testa- ments. The former they retail at every possible occasion and always at seemingly interminable length, and the latter they hold knowingly in hand while they deliver little essays on ' Virtue,' carefully prepared beforehand. "There are, too, foolish people there, who attempt to pray and speak in sententious para- HENRY WARD BEECHEF 217 the the )Ut ita- /ho graphs and with holy boldness. They of course fail in producing anything but absurdities and profane temerities. " But these are exceptional. There are many good-hearted, right-headed, generous-handed men ; those who relate genuine experiences, make prac- tical suggestions, talk as if they were ordinary mortals, and in no way related to fiends incarnate or deserving of instant annihilation. " Mr. Beecher's personal experience often serves as illustration of theory or idea advanced, and his reminiscences of early days, told in a quiet, familiar manner, as if to his home-circle, are oftentimes prolonged to the extent of a small biography, and are interesting in the extreme. " The reading then is good. "The praying by the pastor is heart-resting, soul-inspiring, body- refreshing. " The singing is familiar, congregational, sympa- thetic. The instruction is practical and popular. " The lay praying is as it may be. Some per- sons have the gift of unmistakable gab. They can rattle off hifalutin confessions of the utmost depravity as they would unwind a spool of cotton; they apostrophize the Lord, as they would in a charade address a mock king; they suggest com- prehensive plans for salvation in the most facile and jolly manner, and sit down with a sigh of satisfaction and a smile of complacency which irritates the toe of every honest man's boot. 218 HENRY WARD BEECHER. "Others pray with feeling, but with feeble tongue. Their utterances are heartfelt but in- audible, and their attitude, their manner, are so suggestive of humility that the veriest cynic would grant them full credit for sincerity and truthful- ness. "Others are happy from beginning to end. They are in the path of honor, nothing disturbs them, their virtue is safe, their God is the Lord, and their Lord their intimate friend. "And so from year to year these meetings have gone on. They are always cheerful, always well attended, and always productive of good. " Mr. Beecher considers it the spring from which the fountain in the church beyond draws its constant supply. Without it the church would die; without it the general feeling of good-natured interest which its attendants manifest in each other's welfare would be unknown. " It is the custom of many orthodox churches to hold weekly lectures, and it is one of the bounden duties of the members to attend regularly and constantly upon them. This duty is, however, in most churches honored mainly in its breaching. The lectures are almost invariably the produc- tion of an oft-heard sermon, or else such an ex- tremely formal and matter-of-fact laying down of the law as to worry and annoy an audience rather than rest and benefit it. " It is the singular absence of formality, and the HENRY WARD BEECHER. 219 entire giving up of sermonizing in Mr. Beecher's lecturing that makes it at once a familiar delivery of opinion and a pleasant system of teaching. One would not, could not imagine, for a moment if seated in the old lecture-room, that he was in the regularly consecrated and officially approved place of weekly inquisition. The simple accom- modations for the pastor, the bright, cheerful gas- light, the social atmosphere pervading the audi- ence, the open piano, the smiling faces all about, the earnest hymn, the evident spirit of cordiality, of love, of mutual respect, and glad-to-see-you sort of expression easily detected, alike forbid any con- clusion in the mind of a spectator other than that he was in the home of the church; that the family had gathered about the cheerful hearth for mutual enjoyment, profit and consolation. " That's what's the matter. " Cheerfulness is carried into the very den of church gloom; every one confesses to a lighten- ing of his burden after a moment's tarrying in the place ; no single mind can with success contend against the combined magnetic calm of hundreds, and the contest is given up. Peace and joy reign in place of care, however disturbing may be its nature, however arbitrary might have been its control under other circumstances. "The first time I attended Mr. Beecher's lec- tures, years ago, I witnessed a scene which, though simple and natural enough, was so entirely out 220 HENRY WARD BEECHER. i. of ordinary happenings in the dismal rooms of such country churches as in my school-days I had seen, that I was fairly astounded. The room was very full and I sat upon the step at the left-hand side of the platform. Mr. Beecher came in, took off his rubber overshoes, looked around the room, gave out a hymn, and instead of praying, as I sup- posed he would, said, ' Charles, will you pray ? ' whereupon his brother Charles, who was seated at the piano, led in prayer. •' The first departure from all proper precedent was that anyone besides the minister should dare to pray at a lecture. "The second, that Mr. Beecher should, in as quiet and familiar a manner as if at home with his own circle ask his brother ' Charles ' to lead the congregation in prayer. " But it seemed all right to the people. Then, too, this habit of familiarity with his people, which Mr. Beecher carries at all times to a great extent, is particularly manifest at his lectures. " His attitude, his voice, his manner, his gestures, his illustrations, his allusions to individuals by name, his entire public service is but one remove from his private conversational custom. " In this lies to a great extent his power over the masses. There are scores of people who prefer to attend the lecture rather than the Sun- day's service, because the very idea of preaching, or sermonizing, or ministering as it is popularly HENRY WARD BEECHER. 221 es, by misunderstood, is done away with. They know that the speaker addresses himself at times liter- ally to them ; that matters which they have brought to his notice by letter or otherwise are being dis- cussed for their personal benefit; that were he to call at their house, see them alone and talk with them face to face, the absolute communion between them would not be more real. " Many of the best of religious teachers avail themselves of the opportunity offered by the weekly lecture to enlighten their hearers upon sundry points historical, genealogical, and chrono- logical in the Old Testament. Such matters sometimes are interesting, occasionally profitable, but oftener an absolute waste of time and an oc- casion of mental annoyance and physical weari- ness. At the best an opinion is but a speculation, and the guesses of Tom are as likely to be cor- rect as those of Dick, although Tom may surmise with the greater glibness. "The pastor at the Friday night meetings is a happy man. He has his family about him, the faces are those which for years have smilingly greeted him in that sacred place. Between him and the people there is most absolute under- standing. The room is cheerful beyond a par- allel, its very arrangement that which best con- duces to the comfort and the pleasure of the audience. The tenor of the services is most praiseworthy, but as in the current of a mighty 1 222 HENRY WARD BEECHER. I Stream there are eddies and whirlpoolets, so there are absurd and laughable occurrences here which while they temporarily mar the harmony of the evening, serve but to mark the otherwise perfec- tion of the whole. •* Who has not smiled in anticipation of some- thing grotesquely queer, upon the rising, for in- stance, of Brother ? and who too, that has regularly attended the meetings, has not heard from him some of the very best things ever ut- tered in that or in any other room ? " Joseph, as his friends familiarly call him, is a character. He certainly is one of the most fluent speakers I have ever heard. At times his re- marks are singularly inopportune, and in no possible way bear the remotest connection to the subject under discussion, while at other times, like the clinching of a nail, he gets out a sentence that flashes light into the mind of many a finer and more abstruse mind. "I would as soon think of leaving out of a descriptive grouping of that church, with his timid, shrinking forwardness, his agile slipping from seat to seat, his embarrassed politeness to the ladies, his familiar advice to the young men and maidens, his pulpit-stair-seated conspicuous- ness, and his eminently exalted experimental Christianity, as of leaving out Deacon M , with his characteristic appeal for the welfare of the poor; or Dr. M , whose prayers run from HENRY WARD BEECHER. 223 mc of his )ing his experienced lips hke oil from a decanter, and whose rising almost invariably predicts a confes- sion of personal lemerit, or to the starting of some subjects for discussion ; or Father F* , who always gets up because he is happy and wants to make others so ; or little Brother P , whose testament (the outside of it) we all know by heart, and who has always just come from some rare death-bed, or from the scene of some appall- ing crime; or Mr. B , who I used to think lived on the docks because he had so much to say about them ; or our energetic friend R , who carries the Sunday-school cause upon the tip of his tongue, as a lover' wears the colors of his mistress, or the rosebud of her bouquet ; or Mr. McN , who should long ago have been called a brigadier-general, so large is his bump of per- tenacity ; or Deacon F , who is too goody- goody by half, and sees everything through rosy spectacles, and always seems as if he had a trunk full of divine promises stored away in the attic of his heart ; or young W , who by his own ac- count must be one of the best and happiest men in the world ; or Brother B , who never forgets the sermon of the Sunday previous and holds Mr. Beecher to a strict and sometimes an embarrass- ing account for his 'reasons;' or T , who speaks like Mr. Beecher, prays like Mr. Beecher, thinks like Mr. Beecher, writes like Mr. Beecher, is like Mr. Beecher, so to speak, and who, for a 224 HENRY WARD BEECHER. youngster, talketh oracularly ; or the gentle youth whose sentences, like mankind, are fearfully and wonderfully made, and whose construction oc- cupies a little eternity ; or Mr. S , whose friends in Liberia, in the Isles of the Sea, the Tim- buctoos, the Afghanistans, the Madagascareens, the Chinamen, the Mussulman, and any other man, are always wanting a little pecuniary assist- ance, or sending home cheerful accounts of their conversion to the faith, but not the practice of Christianity ; or — but why multiply names — any one of these might as well be left out as our first iriend , and each of them is necessary as a part of the peculiar whole over which Mr. Beecher sits as the Elder Brother." From this fragment, which w?.s written when the church was fifteen years old and reproduced twenty-four years after it was written, it will be seen that while in many respects Plymouth Church was like any other evangelical organiza- tion, in many others it was unique, peculiar, set upon a hill, cit once a beacon and a target. In this connection it will be of interest to know how people who sat under Mr. Beecher's preach- ing continuously for some forty years regarded him at the first, and also at the last. From a letter written by one, of possibly three so favored, the following extract is taken : "In 1847 there was but one Congregational Church in Brooklyn. The Church of the Pil- HENRY WARD BEECHER. 225 be uth :now ^ach- irded )m a )red, tio nal Pil- grims was in the second year of its existence, and Dr. R. S. Storrs in the first year of his pastorate. That body was composed of strong men, mostly of New England birth, drawn from various neigh- boring Presbyterian churches, banded together by common and conscientious attachment to the faith and polity of their Puritan ancestors. They were zealous in their efforts to secure the firm estab- lishment of their new venture, and without any thought of colonizing. "About this time Mr. John T. Howard, a member of this church, learned incidentally, from Cyrus P. Smith, Esq., then president of the board of trus- tees of the First Presbyterian Church, that they were desirous of selling their church edifice and property, and building anew nearer the centre of the town. The church was under the pastoral care of the Rev. Samuel H. Cox. The building was situated upon Cranberry street, with lecture- room on Orange street. Mr. Howard, having in- quired the value of the property, was informed that it could be purchased for ;^20,ooo. Without consultation with any one in Brooklyn, Mr. Howard went to Mr. David Hale — then editor of the Jour- nal of Commerce , and an ardent Congregationalist — and to him suggested the idea of purchasing the property as a site for a second Congre'^ational church. " Mr. Hale was enthusiastically in favor of the proposition. He conferred at once with Mr. Henry 14 I 226 HENRY WARD BEECHER. C. Bowen and Mr. Seth B. Hunt, and in a short time authorized Mr. Howard to complete the pur- chase. Having already secured the refusal of the property, he was soon notified that the trustees were ready for the sale. Papers were drawn up and a check of $2,000 drawn to bind the bargain. Some months elapsed before the new Presby- terian church was completed, during which time perfect reticence was observed by the gentlemen who had bought the old church as to its projected use. All Brooklyn, a much smaller Brooklyn than the one we now know, was interested in the co- nundrum. Mr. Howard being known as the pur- chaser, he was approached from all sides with questions and suppositions, b;:t his courteous replies gave no information, though the general impression seemed to be that it was to be turned into a music-hall. "Not until the church on Henry street was ready for occupation by Dr. Cox and his people, and the keys of the old building were delivered to Mr. Howard and Mr. Bowen, was anything defi- nite known. By advertisement in the papers of the day, the public were invited to public services to commence on Sunday, 1 6th of May. Sermons, morning and evening, by Henry Ward Beecher. What a small beginning ! There was no church formed. No responsible names given but Howard and Bowen. The location was considered a worn- out, waste place. No second Congregational HENRY WARD liEECHER ^'"^ West, was o speakTM "^J"""^ "'^" '"™™ "f the Home mI !„ c ^^^ ^""'"versary Mr. Bowen went ove " m'"^' ^'^ "°"='^'' ^"d They were delighted L", v " 1°''' '° ''^^ ''■"'• -™ons of the nettXS'''-^^^'' "^ °P-.n. '"le came fli« u ^ ^- hearts went o„t to iIT'' ""' ""-""ged-and all - -e'^ar I ji-^^r '■°" '^^ -^^ - "- He looked over ll'^XlT, congre„,,„„. encouragement to the twn "°' 8^'"^ '""<^h "He said hfs heart w ^"""T ^"''^'^"■ --S a great wo k to be don '"..''' '^'^■''- ^here -"Pected to live and labor Th'"' ?' ""■•<= ^e tion that might move l,i T^ ""'^ ~"«'dera. h's wife. She had be "" ""^ '^' ''^^"h of had broken do:„ ^^ 1:1 "''^ T '^'•"'' -^^ W'estern climate. By the .^ """r^ ""^ "^« ''e had brought her Li , "' "^ Phy^'c-ans ^»"- hoping for W rn ° "^""^ ^ """"'h or ''^WsedL\:;4V™P'ete -„,.,„, „^ -e persons came together i:t„e.thu;r:^- , I ' !'i It ■il 228 HENRY WARD BEECHER. regularly formed, and a call made out to Mr. Beecher. He then returned to Indianapolis, and Plymouth Church secured supplies for the sum- mer. As Mr. Beecher and his wife were saying farewell, Mrs. Bowen, with smiling face, called out, 'Mrs. Beecher, we shall pray for your ill health.' " Her prayer was answered, for late in August a letter was received from Mr. Beecher that his wife was again prostrated, and nothing but change of climate was prescribed by her physician. He therefore accepted the call of Plymouth Church, and would be with them early in October. Great was the joy of the little, obscure company that welcomed him. They were no longer obscure. From the first day of Mr. Beecher's coming to Brooklyn an electric shock ran through the city. The church was crowded to its fullest capacity. One of the founders who acted as usher, was once heard to say that for nine years he never sat in his own pew, but stood up or got a seat on the pulpit stairs. The people, as a whole, seemed bent on hearing Mr. Beecher preach, and the rush from other churches was so.g-eat as to create a natural anxiety on the part of many pastors. Some unkind things were said and done, but per- haps it was not to be wondered at that the dashing of such a comet athwart our social system should have caused some disturbance among the other planets and fixed stars. Dr. Ichabod Spenser, of HENRY WARD BEECHER. 229 in te Id ier of the Second Presbyterian Church, uttered the first opinion that seemed to have a soothing effect upon the disturbed pubHc sentiment. Said he — ' this young man has remarkable power, and there is a great work here ^or him to do. His mission is to the masses! " For years those words were very comforting to the elite of Brooklyn. " And if it comforted them to look down upon him, Mr. Beecher was willing that they should do so. He loved the 'masses,' and he loved his Master, of whom it was said * the common people heard him gladly.' In all those early days he showed the same sweetness of soul, the same ab- sence of envy jealousy, or desire to return evil for evil, or unKindness for unkindness, that has marked his later years. In the most confidential hours, and under the most trying circumstances, his nearest friends never saw any deviation from this Christlike great-heartedness towards those who set themselves against him. What wonder, then, that he fastened these friends to himself as with ' hooks of steel.' " He came on the loth of October, with his in- valid wife and three children. He was thirty-four years of age ; strong, with rugged health, uncon- ventional in manners, though never ungentle- manly. His dress, his boots, his general appear- ance were Western ; his free, brusque address and direct approach were in contrast with other 230 HENRY WARD BEECHER. d I and more polished clergymen, and everything he said and did was made subject of remark. Per- haps a man never lived more directly in the public gaze than this man did for forty years. His life was seen and read of all men — his public life; but few comparatively have known of his domestic gentleness and invariable sweetness of nature. " He was the centre of loving hearts. " Strong and powerful as he knew he was, with those he loved he was gentle and tender-hearted as a lother or nurse with her children. No one feared him or shunned him. His love could cover all offences, his pitying heart make all ex- cuses. " As to enmities, he had none. " And he scarcely knew how to realize that he had enemies. He had only tender thoughts for them. When argued with by near friends as to his carrying the doctrine of forgivenness too far, he would reply, *Cau we go farther than to bless those that curse us, and pray for those who de- spitefully use us? Ah! there is so litde known of the spirit of Christ in tlie world, that when a man is trying feebly and afar of" to follow Him, even Christians do not understand it.' No answer could be made to such reasoning, and friends learned of him new views of what was meant by beinof a Christian. *' Mr. Beecher was the most joyous, radiantly happy man that was ever known. HENRY WARD BEECHER. 231 in ** His theory was, that as a son of God, in uni- son with his Father, he had a right to happiness. This joy no man or set of men or circumstances would he allow to take from him. And he had a wonderful power of abstraction by which he could put away all thought of trouble, difficulty or danger, and rise into a higher atmosphere, where the heavens were blue and unclouded, while his eyes and ears appeared to be sealed to all lower considerations. To those nearest to him at such times the power seemed almost super- human. " His delight in nature was deep, continuous, sometimes rapturous. His Peekskill home was his earthly paradise, and every laborer upon it, every animal, almost every insect had its place in his great heart ; for that was the wonder of his greatness, that the smallest and the least shared in his love and sympathy. " A servant-girl in the family of a friend said : * O ! what a good man Mr. Beecher is ! He called here when you were all in the country, and I told him there was a -strange cat in our yard with four or five kittens. I wanted to feed her, but she was so wild that I could not go near her. Mr. Beecher said, " Give me a saucer of milk and let me try." He took the saucer in his hand and went toward the cat, speaking gently, and finally got down upon his knees, creeping nearer and nearer. And the cat came forward and drank 232 HENRY WARD BEECHER. the milk while he stroked her head, and allowed him at last to lift the kittens to a sheltered place; and, oh ! ma*am,' said the girl, ♦ I'll never forget it of him while I live 1 ' Was not this true great- ness ? » V. :l MR. BEECHER AT HIS WORK. WE are so accustomed to think of Mr. Beecher as an old man, that it seems little less than profanation to recall him in any other guise then as he appeared with long silver hair upon His shoulders, his sturdy and rather corpulent figure borne with dignity and evident strength along the streets whereon he had moved the greater part of half a century. Yet Henry Ward Beecher, who in 1887 was laid to rest covered with flowers, followed by the benedictions of a nation, attended by the prayers of a race, had lived more in his seventy-four years than one hundred ordinary men. His boyhood was peculiar. Cribbed, cabined, confined here, compressed there, held in all over, he was like a bubbling spring which, seeking its normal outflow, finds itself sat upon by huge stones which, preventing its natural exodus, necessitate searching for places of exit here, there and everywhere. Theology, foreordination, predestination, and hell, with an occasional glimpse of heaven, were continuously (233) 234 HENRY WARD BEECH ER. before him in all his early years. Read this little story ; it is a capital index, showing how the bent of the boy's mind was made : When his father, the venerable Lyman Beecher, was settled in Litchfield, Conn., a city friend made him a present of a dinner-service of crockery. This was duly packed in a large crate and sent by stage to the Doctor's house. It was taken into the kitchen and carefully opened by the good lady of the house, in the presence of the youthful Henry. As plate after plate was removed, cup after cup, gravy-boat, and so forth, the boy, who had been devouring the sight with eager eyes, began to drop silently tear after tear, as he re- membered the text of his father's last sermon, " How hardly shall they that have riches enter into the Kingdom of Heaven; " and finally, unable to bear the awful thought that his father might be included in the condemned list, broke out, "I snum ! Ma, aint Pa rich?" " No, my son," re- plied his mother, "but you must not say * I snum.' " Meanwhile the unpacking continued, and the ser- vice upon the table assumed so formidable an appearance as to compel the reiteration of " I snum ! Ma, aint Pa rich ?" "Henry! leave the room; your father is not rich, but when he comes home I shall be com- pelled to tell him of your wicked words." The boy left the room silently, but could not resist the temptation to look into the room, HENRY WARD BEECITER. • 235 "1 re- im. ser- le an if "1 not Icom- not ("oom, through the hole which the old-fashioned latch had made in its frequent risings and fallings, and, seeing the continually increasing pile of dishes, rendered enormous by the addition of large plat- ters and meat dishes, was overcome by the force of the feeling, now rendered intense, that his father would certainly be damned; and to his mother's astonishment he burst into the room shouting at the top of his voice, "I snum ! Ma, aint Pa rich, and — and — and wont he go to hell ?" By this time his mother got an inkling of what was going on in his sensitive mind and by ques- tions ascertained the nature of his fears, and soon quieted them. Of course when the good Doctor came in he enjoyed a hearty laugh, which was all the punishment he thought his boy deserved. The timid, apprehensive boy had grown a man enthusiastic, pushing, sincere and industrious in many lines. When he came East he was but thirty-four years old. Men, especially clergymen, rarely attain eminence at that age. There have been statesmen at twenty-one; not many. Napoleon was a great general at twenty-five. But Napoleons are infrequent. Beecher had made a reputation in the pulpit, in the forum, as an assaulter of the vices of the age, as a voluminous writer along the line of agricul- ture, horticulture and floriculture. And yet he was crude and awkward, filled with the juices of i 236 HENRY WARD BEECHER. enthusiasm, disposed to regard all men as brothers. Mentally he thought quickly. He was omnivorous in reading and in study, finding, however, his most instructive books among his fellows rather than in ciois' i libraries. He encountered in Brooklyn chari. eristic greeting. The ministers didn't like him. The men he expected to help him gave him the cold shoulder. Venerable clergymen, friends of his father, to whom he went with zealous de- sire for friendship, met him with marked coolness, and criticized him behind his back with what would almost seem jealous envy. But the young people took to him from the first. H** was not a Sunday-school talker. In fact it ^ often remarked that on "set occasions" Mr. . echer was not at his best. His Sunday morning sermons, delivered more especially to the membership of his church, were often the most eloquent, the most impressive, the most touching, the most efifective. As was indicated in a con- tribution found in a previous chapter it became the fashion, among fashionable people, in fashion- able churches where fashionable clergymen offi- ciated, to look loftily upon this young man of the people. Well, he rather liked that. His church was crowded and it was inteiesting to see hundreds and hundreds of young men, solid rows of young men from New York, stran- HENRY WARD BEECHER. 237 hers. >rous most lan in oklyn t like ehim riends js de- winess, would )m the In fact isions " Sunday lally to \e most ucb'ng, a con- became fashion- en offt- of the iiestmg ig men, stran- gers from the hotels, clerks from the stores of the great city, regular attendants upon Mr. Beecher's ministration. Every boy in Brooklyn soon knew him by sight, and he welcomed gladly all overtures from children. It was his custom, more especially in the early days of his church, to spend the morn- ings in the lecture-room, with his brother, orwilih some young person who could play upon the piano, studying music. From the first he was de- termined that congregational singing should mean singing by the congregation, and one of his earliest endeavors was a collection of materials for a hymn-book to be used especially in Ply- mouth Church, and more widely if approval should set its seal upon the completed effort. The " Plymouth Collection " has been a standard work for nearly forty years. It was a labor of love, and concerning it Mr. Beecher wrote as follows : " No pains have been spared in collecting materials for this work. The principal collections of psalms and hymns that have been published, either in America or Great Britain, have been carefully searched, and the fugitive pieces which have appeared in rel'gious journals, or in collected poetical works of recent authors, have been made to contribute to the store. "A hymn is a lyrical discourse to the feelings. It should either excite or express feeling. The 238 HENRY WARD BEECHER. recitation of historical facts, descriptions of sce- nery, narrations of events, meditations, all may tend to inspire feeling. Hymns are not to be excluded, therefore, because they are deficient in lyrical form, or in feeling, if experience shows that they have power to excite pious emotions. Not many of Newton's hymns can be called poetical ; yet there are few hymns in the English language that are more useful. "We have carefully avoided a narrow ad- herence to our own personal taste in the selec- tion of hymns. Scarcely any two ministers would agree in the selection of hymns. A col- lection should be made so large and various that every one may find in it that which he needs. Neither should one complain of the multitude of hymns useless to him. They are not useless to others. A generously-spread table is not at fault because, in the profusion, each guest cannot use everything. Every one should have all the liberty and the means of following his own taste. Had we made this collection merely for our own use, it would not have numbered more than five hundred hymns. " Many hymn-books have been so fastidiously made as to exclude many hymns as extravagant, that were not half so extravagant as are the Psalms of David, and as is all true and deep feeling which gives itself full expression ; but also those retained have been abused by corrections, so : n HENRY WARD BEECHER. 239 ce- \ay be tin ows ons. illed glish V ad- ;elec- Isters \ col- s that peeds. ide of ess to ot at lannot .11 the taste, r own than liously ragant, ire the keeling those )ns, so called, and tamed down from their noble fervor and careless freedom, into flat and profitless pro- priety. "We have, as far as possible, avoided all changes, except those necessary to restore muti- lated hymns to their original state. No language can well replace that which the original inspiration of the author suggested. Watts' hymns and psalms have been carefully compared with the original, and for the most part restored. " Great additions have been made to the hymns which celebrate Christ; to hymns of Christian experience, in its deeper and more tender moods ; to hymns suitable for religious awakenings ; and there will be found a great number of admirable pieces upon these topics, not combined in any other single collection. " Much attention has been given to the great humanities which the Gospel develops, whenever it is faithfully and purely preached. The hymns of temperance, of human rights and freedom, of peace, and of benevolence, will be found both numerous, energetic an 1 eminently Christian. No pains have been spared to secure a full ex- pression to the whole religious feeling and ac- tivity of our tiines. "We have sought for hymns in the books of every dt. niination of Christians. There are certain hymns of the sacrifice of Christ, of utter and almost soul-dissolving yearning for the bene- I 240 HENRY WARD BEECHER. fit of His mediation, which none could write so well as a devout and truly pious Roman Catholic. Some of the most touching and truly evangelical hymns in the collection have been gathered from this source. It has been a matter of joy to us to learn, during our research, how much food for true piety is afforded through Catholic devo- tional books to the masses of darkened minds within that church of '^rror. "We have gathered many exquisite hymns from the Moravian collections, developing the most tender and loving views of Christ, of his personal presence and gentle companiohship. We know of no hymn-writers that equal their faith and fervor for Christ, as present with his people. Nor can any one conversant with these fail to recognize the fountain in which the incom- parable Charles Wesley was baptized. His hymns are only Moravian hymns re-sung. Not alone are the favorite expressions used and the epithets which they loved, but, like them, he be- holds all Christian truths through the medium of confiding love. The love element of this school has never been surpassed. "To say that we have sought for hymns ex- pressing the deepest religious feeling, and par- ticularly the sentiments of love, and trust, and di- vine courage, and hopefulness, is only to say that we have drawn largely from the best Methodist hymns. The contributions of the Wesleys to HENRY WARD BEECHER. 241 so iic. cal om ; to for tvo- inds mns the f his iship. their :h his these com- His Not d the le he- rn of ichool is ex- par- Lnd di- ly that thodist leys to hymnology have been so rich as to leave the Christian world under an obligation which cannot be paid so long as there is a struggling Christian brotherhood to sing and be comforted amid the trials of this world. " Charles Wesley was peculiarly happy in mak- ing the Scriptures illustrate Christian experience, and personal experience throw light upon the deep places of the Bible. Some of his effusions have never been surpassed. Nor are there any hymns that could more nobly express the whole ecstasy of the Apostolic writings in view of death and heaven. " Cowper, Stennett, Newton, Doddridge, Mrs. Steele, and many other familiar authors, will be found in this collection, as in every other that aspires to usefulness. •'With whatever partiality to Dr. Watts we may have begun this compilation, a comparison of his hymns and psalms with the best effusions of the best hymn-writers has only served to in- crease our a'^lmiration, and our conviction that he stands incomparably above all other English writers. Nor do we believe any other man, in any department, has contributed so great a share of enjoyment, edification, and inspiration to strug- JL^ling Christians as Dr. Watts. We have retained the greatest number of his versions of the psalms, though under the title of hymns. A table is pre- fixed by which the version may be found." 15 ■ 242 HENRY WARD BEECHER. In those dayS — thirteen years before the war ; a war which had been ended twenty-two years at the time of his death — the chief topics of discus- sion upon the poHtical platform were such as took hold of the relations, already strained, between the North and the South, and more especially bearing upon the question of human bondage. Mr. Beecher's idea of the pulpit was that it is a place in which to teach men how to live rather than how to die, and, as in those days the rancor existing between the North and the South took hold upon every line of mercantile effort, it will be readily understood that every intelligent person in his Sunday audience was more or less interested in the solution of the great problem of the day. Their feeling pro and con, their inter- est, one way or the other, would of necessity swerve, this way or that, their actions, unless a moral purpose could be infused which might radiate and ultimately dominate the situation and direct their conduct. So, little by little, Mr. Beecher used his pulpit as a place for teaching men how to act politically, how to bear them- selves as citizens, how to conduct their affairs in the early days of that great struggle when the con- test was between mind and mind, as it ultimately became between force and force. It was not then as now the custom to report sermons to any great extent. The Tribune was at one time paid for publish- HENRY WARD BEECIIER. 243 of js a igl Inor Mr. Beecher's sermons. The preacher knew nothing- of it, but it was a kindly desire on the part of one of the parish to bring the Plymouth Church utterances before a wider audience than could be seated in the church. The Herald oc- casionally gave brief reports, but it was not the habit, and, in fact, until i860 it did not become the universal custom to report Mr. Beecher or any other clergyman verbatim. But the anti-slavery meetings that were held in the Broadway Tabernacle were reported. The speakers were lampooned, their fiery and vehement outbursts were ridiculed, and a great deal of feeling was stirred up throughout the en- tire community on both sides the line. As Mr. Beecher was foremost among this class of orators he naturally received the largest share of abuse from pro-slavery journals, and incurred the lion's part also of mercantile, commercial and social displeasure. The pro-slavery feeling was quite as strong in some churches as the anti-slavery feeling was in others, and so bitter was the sentiment that all manner of weapons were utilized to satire, to ridicule, to bemean and to counteract the influ- ence of the chief spokesman on either side. Harpci'^s Weekly, for instance, printed a full page cartoon of Henry Ward Beecher refusing to administer the communion to George Wash- ington because George Washington owned slaves. flll 244 HENRY WARD BEECHER. «i!HI»9 ' There was no epithet too low, no name too mean, no characterization too offensive to be ap- plied to Mr. Beecher, and those who followed him, by the so-called '* friends of the South " in New York and vicinity. The name of Beecher became a hissing and a by-word. By many he was regarded as the inspirer, and by very, very many as the author of Mrs. Stowe's •' Uncle Tom's Cabin," the fact being that he knew nothing about it until her arrangements had been made and her story had been begun under a con- tract with the Washington journal, in which it first made its appearance as a serial story. As the years went on, this feeling, already intense, already bitter, became absolutely the rudder which steered one party from the other. The South determined to secede, and the North was divided between those who were willing that the " way- ward sisters" should "depart in peace," and those who determined that the Union should not be disrupted, but should be maintained in its in- tegrity at all hazards. Considering slavery to be the crime of the age, Mr. Beecher directed his batteries against it. He determined that Plymouth Church and Plymouth pulpit should be known as an organiza- tion devoted to the downfall of sin, as well as to the upbuilding of virtue. His idea was to make men and women stronger, better, and to radiate MRS. HARRIKT nF.F.CIIER STOWE. il HENRY WARD BEECHER. 247 them as missionaries throughout the whole coun- try. This fact alone would have crowded his church, but there was there not only a man with a purpose, but an orator with an unequalled vo- cabulary, with a picture-gallery such as no mortal eye had seen within the memory of a generation ; with dramatic force and fire, with mental activity and physical vigor, stirred by a magnetism of manner which enabled the speaker to sway his people as wind-storms sway the grain. Still his horizon was limited. Still his reputation was to a certain extent con- fined. If asked what individual speech in the first de- cade of Mr. Beecher's pastorate and public life at the East brought him most clearly before his fellow-citizens as a leader, as a factor not to be disregarded, the answer ought to be, " a speech utterly unpn leditated, absolutely extemporane- ous, delivere . by him in the Broadway Tabernacle before a meeting called by the Silver Gray Whigs, the conservative members of the old Whig party, among whom were William M. Evarts, who pre- sided, Daniel Lord, Jr., John Van Buren, and others equally eminent, some of whom were members of the more conservative wing of the Democratic party." The meeting had been called to protest against the bullying conduct of members of Congress from the South toward their fellows from the North, and more especially to indicate ii 248 HENRY WARD BEECHER. an emphatic disapproval of physical force si/ch as was utilized by the cowardly Preston A. Brooks, a member of Congress from South Carolina, when with a gutta-percha cane he assaulted the honora- ble senator from Massachusetts, Charles Sumner, while writing at his desk in the senate-chamber. Beecher had then been setded in Brooklyn nearly nine years. The continuity of his work on the platform, in the pulpit, and about the country generally had been such as to deprive him entirely of all opportunity to hear orators of eminence, save such as attended meetings jointly with himself. The Sumner meeting had been announced in all the papers, and the eminent men whose names are given before, Evarts, Van Buren and Lord, were the advertised speakers. It oc- curred to Mr. Beecher, who was in full and indig- nant sympathy with the object of the meeting, that it Vvould be a favorable opportuuity for him to hear some good speaking. Accompanied by a friend and his son, he crossed the ferry and went to the Tabernacle on Broadway. It was crowded to suffocation, and with great difficulty entrance was obtained. The speaking was dignified, stately, conventional and disappointing. Reporters were there from all the daily papers, and a respectable showing was prepared for the following day's issue. A moment or two prior to the adjourn- ment Mr. Beecher's young friend whispered to one of the reporters that Beecher was there, and HENRY WARD BEECHER. 249 oks, rhen lora- iner, ber. )klyn work t the jprive )rs of lointly been It men Buren It oc- indig- lig, that it would be a good idea to call him out. They arranged that the boy should go to the other side of the hall and call " Beecher," which call should be echoed by the reporter, and possibly Mr. Beecher might be compelled to speak. With considerable difficulty the boy performed liis part of the programme, which was duly fol- lowed out by the reporter (Edward F. Underhill). The cry was taken up by several in the audience, and gradually by others, when Mr. Evarts ad- vanced to the front of the platform and said, " It would afford us great pleasure, doubtless, to hear from the reverend gentleman from Brooklyn, but as he is lecturing in Philadelphia to-night, that pleasure must necessarily be postpop'^d." At this a shrill voice from the boy aforesaid, on the other side the hall shouted out : " No, he isn't in Philadelphia, either; there he is behind the pillar. Beecher ! Beecher ! " That settled it. To say that Mr. Beecher was annoyed and embarrassed would be but a feeble indication of his mental condition. Mr. Evarts abruptly adjourned the meeting and, with Mr. Lord and the other <:)^entlemen uoon the platform, turned to leave the hall, and many of the audience retired. Others continued their call for Mr. Beecher, who, being discovered, was literally forced upon the platform. Intuitively outsiders returned. 250 HENRY WARD BEECIIER. ^'t : ■ The tremendous audience resumed their seats. With a wave of the hand the orator stilled the people, and began with a calm recital of facts. Gradually he worked up and up, taking his audi- ence with him, until they soon stood together upon a plane of indignant remonstrance. There had been many wild scenes in the Tabernacle before, there were many tumultuous gatherings there afterward, but there never was an audience so stirred from platform to door, from floor to ceil- ing, as that. For an hour the speaker continued. His very soul was in arms, and he showed with the clarity of a noonday's sun the beatings of his own heart, fit types of the beatings of the heart of the country, until he was cheered and cheered to the very echo, and the cold type of next day's papers reproduced his fiery declama- tion, word for word, and dismissed in a brief para- graph all the others had said during the long hours of the meeting prior to Mr. Beecher's be- ginning. From that time on he stood alone. He was in the far front of the battle for free- dom. With consequences he had not to do, with the burning fact of the moment he dealt. There was no mincing of words, no dodging behind texts, no construing of possible sentences about the obedience of servants to their masters; but there was a clean-cut, perfectly understandable HENRY WARD BEECHER. 251 of ima- )ara- Ifree- with 'here ihind presentation of facts. The prosperity of the North was shown as against the adversity of the South. The educational progress of the North was con- trasted with the wretched condition, educational, of the South. There was nothing ill-natured, nothing that individuals could take exception to. There was no unfair putting of the saddle of yes- terday on the horse of to-day. The fact that slavery had existed since the early days of the Union was recognized. He fought it as a sin, he fought it as an element which undertoned the morale, he cut it as a cancer that was eating away the life of a most interesting part of the nation. Incessant labor from 1847 to 1856, especially labor with the pressure, mental and physical, Mr. Beecher's nature compelled, would kill any man. His intimate friends saw, in the latter part of 1849, that their pastor was breaking down. Whether he missed the wildness of the West, the freedom of his old-time home, and pined for friends and places unattainable, or whether it was the industry with which he entered upon all untried fields of work, was a mooted point. But that he was breaking down was painfully evident, and in 1850 he was sent abroad, not to remain for any time, but in a hope that the restfulness of the trip over and the trip back, with a few weeks unac- customed sight-seeing, would restore him to his natural condition. He went. 252 HENRY WARD BEECHER. He remained but four weeks. Durng that time he wrote a series of letters to his family and intimate friends, some of which have been printed heretofore, some of which have never seen the light, in every one of which the artist, the lover of nature, the believer in God, and the fellow of his fellow-man, with no thought of ultimate publicity, with no care save that of desire that his friends at home should participate in the joy he experienced abroad. A letter describing a Sabbath at Strat- ford-on-Avon, written to a friend by whom it was read to a circle at home and there retained until in later years, it, with some others, was given to the world, is reproduced here, and beautiful it is. But in explanation of it, Mr. Beecher himself wrote: "An attempt to exclude excess of personal feeling, to reduce the letter to a more moderate tone, to correct its judgment, or to extract from it the fiery particulars of enthusiasm, would have taken away its very life. It, like others, was written to home-friends during a visit of only four weeks ; a period too short to allow the subsidence of that enthusiasm which every person must needs experience who for the first time stands in the historic places of the old world." This is the letter: A SABBATH AT STRATFORD-ON-AVON. "August 4, 1850. — .• If you have read, or will read, ''My dear HENRY WARD BEECHER. 253 erate rom lave was four my letter to , you will see what a wonderful day was Satu rday — Coventry, famou s for the legend of Godiva, of which Tennyson has a pretty ver- sion ; the ruins of Kenilworth Castle, the stately castle of Warwick and its park, and Stratford-on- Avon, all in one day ! Do you wonder that my brain was hot and my sleep fitful that night ? I tossed from side to side and dreamed dreams. It was lonor after midniofi.t before I beofan to rest free from dreams ; but the sleep was thin, and I broke through it into waking every half hour. " It was broad daylight when I arose ; the sun shone out in spots ; masses of coft, fleecy clouds rolled about in the heaven, making- the day even finer than if it had been all blue. I purposed attending the village church in the morning, where Shakespeare was buried ; in the afternoon at Shottery, a mile across the fields, v.'here the cot- tage in which lived Anne Hathaway, his wife, still stands ; and in the evening, at the church of the Holy Cross, adjoining the Grammar School, in which, as the school about that time was open, and for a period kept, it is probable that Shake- speare studied. " Never, in all the labors of a life not wont to be idle upon the Sabbath, have I known such excitement or such exhaustion. The scenes of Saturday had fired me ; every visit to various points in Strafford-on-Avon added to the inspira- tion, until, as ! sallied forth to church, I seemed m 264 HENRY WARD BEECHER. not to have a body. I could hardly feel my feet striking against the ground ; it was as if I were numb. But my soul was clear, penetrating, and exquisitely susceptible. •* You may suppose that everything would so breathe of the matchless poet that I should be insensible to religious influences. But I was at a stage beyond that. The first effect, last night, of being here was to bring up suggestions of Shake- speare from everything. I said to myself: this is the street he lived in, this the door he passed through, here he leaned, he wandered on these banks, he looked on those slopes and rounded hills. But I had become full of these suggestions and, acting as a stimulus, they had wrought such an ecstatic state, that my soul became exquisitely alive to every influence, whether of things seen, cr heard, or thought of The children going to church, how beautiful they appeared ! How good it seemed to walk among so many decorous peo- ple to the house of God. How full of music the trees were ! music, not only of birds, but of winds waving the leaves ; and the bells, as they were ringing, rolled through the air a deep diapason to all other sounds. "As I approached the church, I perceived that we were to pass through the church-yard for some little distance ; and an avenue of lime trees meet- ing overhead formed a beautiful way, through which my soul exulted to go up to the house of HENRY WARD BEECHER. 255 re God. The interior was stately and beautiful — it was to me, and I am not describing anyvhing to you as it was, but am describing myself while in the presence of scenes with which through books you are familiar. As I sat down in a pew close by the reading-desk and pulpit, I looked along to the chancel, which stretched some fifty or sixty feet back of the pulpit and desk, and saw, upon the wall, the well-known bust of Shakespeare; and I knew that beneath the pavement under that his dust reposed. " In a few minutes a little fat man, with a red collar and red cuffs, advanced from a s'^f^-room behind the pulpit and led the way for th^ ector, a man of about fifty years — bald, except on the sides of his head, which were covered with white hair. I had been anxious lest some Cowper's ministerial fop should officiate, and the sight of this aged man was good. The form of his face and head indicated firmness, but his features were suffused with an expression of benevolence. He ascended the reading-desk and the services began. You know my mother was, until her marriage, in the communion of the Episcopal Church. This thought hardly left me while I sat, grateful for the privilege of worshipping God through a service that had expressed so often her devotions. I can- not tell you how much I was affected. I had never had such a trance of worship, and I shall never have such another view until I gain the Gate. 256 HENRY WARD BEECIIER, "I am SO ignorant of the church service that I cannot call the various parts by their right names; but the portions which most affected me were the prayers and responses which the choir sang. I had never heard any part of a supplication, a direct prayer, chanted by a choir ; and it seemed as though I heard not with my ear, but with my soul. I was dissolved ; my whole being seemed to me like an incense wafted gratefully toward God. The Divine presence rose before me in wondrous majesty, but of ineffable gentleness and goodness, and I could not stay away from more familiar ap- proach, but seemed irresistibly, yet gent'/, drawn toward God. My soul, then thou didst magnify the Lord, and rejoice in the God of thy salvation ! And then came to my mind the many exultations of the Psalms of David, and never before were the expressions and figures so noble and so neces- sary to express what I felt. I had risen, it seemed to me, so high as to be where David was when his soul conceived the things which he wrote. "Throughout the service, and it was an hour and a quarter long, whenever an * Amen ' oc- curred, it was given by the choir, accompanied by th( organ and the congregation. O ! that swell and solemn cadence rings in my ear yet ! Not once, not a single time did it occur in that service, from beginning to end, without bringing tears from my eyes. I stood like a shrub in a spring morning, every leaf covered with dew, and every HENRY WARD BEECHER. 257 ss- breeze shook down some drops. I trembled so much at times that I was obliored to sit down. O ! when in the prayers, breathed forth in strains of sweet, simple, solemn music, the love of Christ was recognized, how I longed then to give utter- ance to what that love seemed to me ! There was a moment in which the heavens seemed opened to me, and I saw the glory of God ! All the earth seemed to me a storehouse of images, made to set forth the Redeemer, and I could scarcely be still from crying out. I never knew, I never dreamed before, of what heart there was in that word. Amen. Every time it swelled forth and died away solemnly, not my lips, not my mind, but my whole being said, 'Saviour, so let it be!' "The sermon was preparatory to the com- munion, which I then first learned was to be cele- brated. It was plain and good ; and although the rector had done many things in a way that led me to suppose that he sympathized with over- much ceremony, yet in his sermon he seemed evangelical, and gave a right view of the Lord's Supper. For the first time in my life I went for- ward to commune in an Episcopal church. Without any intent of my own, but because from my seat it was nearest, I knelt down at the altar with the dust of Shakespeare beneath my feet. I thought of it, as I thouofht of ten thousand things, without the least disturbance of devotion. 258 HENRY WARD BEECHER, It seemed as if I stood upon a place so high, that, like one looking over a wide valley, all objects conspired to make but one view. I thought of 'the General Assembly and Church of the First- Born' of my mother and brother and children in heaven, of my living family on earth, of you, of the whole church intrusted to my hands ; they afar off; I upon the banks of the Avon. " In the afternoon I walked over to Shottery, to attend worship there, but found that I had been misinformed, and that there was no church or service there. I soon found the cottage where Shakespeare's wife, Anne Hathaway, was born, but stayed only for a little time, meaning to visit it more at my leisure on Monday. I hastened back, hoping to reach the village chiirch in Strat- ford in season for part of the service, but ar- rived just in time to meet the congregation com- ing out. I turned aside to the church-yard, which surrounds the church on every side. As I stood behind the church on the brink of the Avon, which is here walled up to the height of some eight feet, looking now at the broad, green mead- ows beyond, and now at a clump of forget-me- nots, growing wild down at the water's edge, and wondering how I should get them to carry back to my friends, I was accosted by a venerable old man, whose name I found afterwards to be T . He was not indisposed to talk, and I learned that he was eighty-one years of age ; had HENRY WARD BEECHER. 259 )0d ^on, lost his father in America during our Revolu- tionary War, where he had been a soldier , he re- membered the sad tidings, being then eleven years old ; he had resided at Stratford for thirty years; he was a turner and carver by trade; he had lately buried his wife, and had come after service to visit her grave. We walked together along the banks of the Avon, he repeating some familiar lines of poetry. He gave me various local information of interest. Among other things, that the vicar was but recently come among them ; that he seemed to him very ' whim- sical,' for, said he, ' he has got a new brass thing to hold his Bible, down in front of the reading- desk ; and he stands sometimes with his back to the people when reading parts of the service, and has a good many scholarly tricks about him, as it seems to me.' I forbore making any remarks^ not wishing to disturb the associations of the morning. "We crossed the stream by a bridge, walked up through the broad, smooth, turfy meadows upon the other side, and on reaching my inn, I pressed him to come in and take tea with me. I did so, in part from interest in him, and in part because he had mentioned, when I apologized for using his time in so long a walk, that his only re- maining daughter was gone out to tea, and he did not care to go home and be alone. So we took tea together, after which he proposed waiting 16 260 HENRY Ward BEECHER. upon me to the Church of the Holy Cross, where evening services were then commencing. The interior of the church was plain ; and its age and its connection with Shakespeare constituted its only interest to me. I feel greatly obliged to the venerable old man, whose heart seemed guileless and whose mind was simple. This only ac- quaintance that I have made in Stratford takes nothing away from the romantic interest of my experience here. "Monday, August 5, 1850. — As I was sitting this morning after breakfast writing busily, my venerable friend T came in to bid me good- morning, and to bring me a relic, a piece of the mulberry tree which stood in Shakespeare's gar- den, but which was cut down by its after-owner, he being much annoyed by relic-hunters. He finally destroyed the house itself. The old man also gave me a snuff-box which had been made years and years ago, either from the wood of this same tree, or from a tree sprung from the origi- nal. He avers that it was from the original tree ; that he obtained it from the former turner, as a model by which to turn boxes, and that he was assured that it was of the real, orthodox, primitive mulberry tree ! I do not doubt it. I will not doubt. What is the use of destroying an innocent belief so full of pleasure ? If it is not a genuine relic, my faith shall make it so. *' One or two hours later. — Alas ! I've been out, HENRY WARD BEECHER. 261 and amonor other inquiries have asked after my old friend T . I find him to be living in the poorhoiise! At first, I confess to a little shame at intimacy with a pauper; but in a moment I felt twice as much ashamed that for a moment I had felt the slightest repugnance toward the old man on this account. I rather believe his story of the tree and the box to be true ; at any rate, I have a mulberry snuff-box which I procured in Strat- ford-on-Avon ! " Among the many things which I determined to see and hear in England were the classic birds, and especially the thrush, the nightingale and the lark ; after these I desired to see cuckoos, starlings and rooks. While in Birmingham, going about one of the manufactories, I was inquiring where I mijjht see some of the first named. The young man who escorted me pointed across the way to a cage hanging from a second-story window and said, ' There's a lark ! ' Sure enough, in a little cage and standing upon a handful of green grass, stood the little fellow, apparendy with russet- brown wings and lighter-colored breast, ash color, singing away to his own great comfort and mine. The song reminded me, in many of its notes, of the canary bird. In my boyhood, I had innocently supposed that the lark of which I read, when first beginning to read in English books, was our meadow-lark ; and I often watched in vain to see them rise singing into the air ! As for singing 262 HENRY WARD KEECHER. just beneath ' heaven's gate ' or near the sun, after dihgent observation, with great simplicity I set that down for a pure fancy of the poets. But I had before this learned that the English sky lark was not our meadow-lark. •• A bird in a cage is not half a bird ; and I de- termined to hear a lark at Stratford-on-Avon, if one could be scared up. And so, early this morning I awoke according to a predetermination and sallied out through the fields to a beautiful range of grounds called • Welcombe.' I watched for birds and saw birds, but no larks. The reapers were already in the wheat-fields, and brought to mind the fable of the lark who had reared her young there. Far over, toward the Avon, I could see black specks of crows walking about, and picking up a morsel here and there in the grass. I listened to one very sweet song from a tree near a farm-house, but it was unfamil- iar to my ear ; and no one was near from whom I might inquire. Besides, the plain laboring- people know little about ornithology, and would have told me that * it is some sort of a singing bird,' as if I thought it were a goose ; and so I said to myself, 'I've had my labor for my pains. ' "Well, I will enjoy the clouds and the ribbon strips of blue that interlace them. I must revoke my judgment of the English trees ; for as I stood looking over upon the masses of foliage, and the single trees dotted in here and there, I could see HENRY WARD BEECHER. 2G3 every shade of green, and all of them most beauti- ful, and as refreshing to me as old friends. After standing awhile to take a last view of Straiford- on-Avon, from this high ground and the beauti- ful slopes around it, and of the meadows of the Avon, I began to walk homeward, when I heard such an outbreak behind me as wheeled me about quick enough ; there he flew, singing as he rose, and rising gradually, not directly up, but with gende slope — there was the free singing-lark, not half so happy to sing as I was to hear ! In a moment more he had reached the summit of his ambition, and suddenly fell back to the grass again. And now, if you laugh at my enthusiasm, I will pity you for the want of it. I have heard one poet's lark if I never hear another, and am much happier for it. " If you will wait a moment or two, till I can breakfast, you shall have the benefit of a stroll over to Shottery — a real old English village. I walked over there yesterday afternoon to church, as I told you, and so can show you the way with- out inquiring it three times, as I did then. Emerg- ing from the village, we take this level road, lined on either side with hedges and trees, trees not with naked stems, but rufifled from the hedge to their limbs with short side-brush, which gives them a very beautiful appearance. The white clov-er-turf underfoot is soft as velvc" • men are reaping in the fields, or going past us with their sickles. We i 264 HENRY WARD BEECHER. have walked abo t a mile, and here is a lane turning to the left and a guide-board pointing to • Shottery.* I see the village. A moment's walk brings us to a very neat litde brick, gothic cottage, quite pretty in style, and painted cream color ; it is covered with roses and fragrant flowering-vines, which make the air delicious. By the gate is a Champney rose — the largest I ever saw — its shoots reaching, I should think, more than twelve feet, and terminated with clusters of buds and open roses, each cluster having from fifty to a hundred buds. Yesterday afternoon, as I passed this same cottage, I stopped to admire this rose and to feed upon the delicious perfume which exhaled from the grounds. A lady, ap- parently about forty-five, and two young women about eighteen and twenty years of age respec- tively, seeing a stranger, approached the gate. I bowed and asked : " ' Is this a Cnampney rose ? ' " ' It is a Noisette, sir ! ' " * I thought so ; a Champney of the Noisette family! Will you tell me what flower it is that fills the air with such odor ? * " * I don't know ; it must be something in the garden.' " • Will you be kind enough to tell me the way to Anne Hatha way's cottage ? ' " • Take the first lane to the left,' said the eldest young woman, pointing to the right. HENRY WARD BEECHER 265 •' ' The lane on the right, you mean. "'Oh! yes, on the right, but I do not know where the cottage is exactly ! ' and yet it lay hardly two good stone-casts from where they stood. You can see its smoke from the windows. Did they not know, or were they ashamed to seem too familiar with a stranger ? But William Shake- speare, eighteen years old as he was, had no need of asking his way, as he came by here of a Sab- bath evening ! What were the thoughts of such a mind drawing near to the place which now peeps out from the trees across the field on the right ? What were the feelings of a soul which created such forms of love in after days? I look upon the clouds every moment changing forms, upon the hedges of trees along which, or such like, Shakespeare wandered with his sweet Anne, and marvel what were the imaginations, the strifes of heart, the gushes of tenderness, the sanguine hopes and fore-paintings of this young poet's soul. For, even so early, he had begun to give form to that which God created in him. One cannot help thinking of Olivia, Juliet, Desdemona, Beatrice, Ophelia, Imogen, Isabella, Miranda ; and wondering whether any of his first dreams were afterward borrowed to form these. It is not pos- sible but that strokes of his pencil, in these and other women of Shakespeare, reproduced some features of his own experience. " Well, I imagine that Anne was a little below 'Mi' 266 HENRY WARD BEECHER. the medium height, delicately formed and shaped, but not slender ; wiih a clear, smooth forehead, not high, but wide and evenly filled out; an eye that chose to look down mostly, but filled with sweet confusion every time she looked up, and that was used more ihan her tongue ; a face that smiled oftener than it laughed, but so smiled that one isaw a world of brightness within, as of a lamp hidden behind an alabaster shade ; a carriage that was deliberate, but graceful and elastic. This is my Anne Hathaway. Whether it was Shakespeare's, I find nothing in this cottage and these trees and verdant hedges to tell me. The birds are singing something about it — descend- ants, doubtless, of the very birds that the lovers heard, strolling together ; but I doubt their tradi- tionary lore. I did not care to go in. There are two or three teneme^its in the long cottage as it now stands ; but the middle one is that to which pilgrims trom all the world do come ; and though it was but a common yeoman's home, and his daughter has left not a single record of herself, she nnd her home are immortal, because hither came the lad Shakespeare, and she became his wife. •' I leaned upon thl^ hedge yesterday afternoon, it being ti>e Sabbath, and looked long at the place, and with mere feelings than thoughts, or rather with thoughts that dissolved at once into feelings. Here are the rudest cottages; scenery, becutiful indeed, but not more so than thousands o^ other are IS it fhich )U rs( lither 1 wife. lOon, )lace, ither linss. uti ful )ther HENRY WARD BEECHEIA. 267 places; but men of all nations and every condi- tion, the mingled multitude of refined men are thronging hither, and dwell on every spot with enthusiasm unfeigned. Whatever Shakespeare saw, we long to see ; what he thought of, we wish to think of; where he walked, thither we turn our steps. The Avon, the church, the meadows lying over beyond both ; the street, and the room where he was born — all have a sorl inbreathed upon them, all of them are sacred to us, and we pass as in a dream amid these things. The sun, the clouds, the trees, the birds, the morning and even- ing, moonlight or tv^rilight or darkness, none of them here have a nature of their own ; all of them are to us but memorials or suggestions of Shake- speare. " God gave to man this power to breathe him- self upon the worldi, and God gave us that nature by which we feel the inspiration. Is this divine arrangement exhausted in man's earthly history ? Are we not to see and to know a sablime devel- opment of it when we come to a knowledge of God Himself, face to face? Then, not a hamlet alone, a few cottages, a stream or spire will be suggestive; but thrcighout the universe, every creature and every object will breathe of God. Not of His genius, as Stratford-on-Avon speaks of Shakespeare ; but of every trait of character, every shade of feeling, every attribute of power ; of goodness, love; mercy and gentleness, magna- 268 HENRY WARD BEECHEP ,•^"'-^ nimity, exquisite purity, taste, imagination, truth and justice. May we know this revelation ; walk amid those scenes of glory, and know the rapture of feeling God effulges upon us from everything which His heart has conceived or His hand fash- ioned ! But chiefly may we see that noontide glory when we shall gaze unabashed upon His unobstructed face. " H. W. B." He returned from England in good health and went at once to work. From that time on the printed and spoken utterances of Henry Ward Beecher were taken as the key-note of the great campaign against slavery, and its extension into the free Territories of the North-west. Some of his people had ob- jected strenuously to their pastor's course. They thought it lowered the pulpii and brought religion arnd politics to a common le ^^l. Mr. Beecher met their objections good hu- mo.-edly but seriously. That any man worthy the name could contem- plate the slavery of his fellow and seriously de- fend an institution whose corner-stone was the defilement of the image of God, seemed to him an abasement of human intelligence. "Tell me," he said, '• that you mean to hold on to slavery because it is profitable, or because you love power, and I will respect at least your truth ; but if you attempt to justify your infamy by scriptural hu- Item- de- the him M I me, ivery love ; but ►tural HENRY WARD BEECHER. 269 quotations or specious arguments about rights, I spew you from my friendship." The "silver-gray" merchants who demurred at his constant agitation of this subject, and who affecte'' to regard him as a mountebank, he bombarded without mercy. They were rich and in positions of influence, therefore they were the more dangerous, and he spared nothing that would convict them of treachery to the Master whose children and servants they pro- fessed to be. Finally, after years of agitation, from the labors of the litde coterie was born the Republican party. Mr. Beecher was one of its few fathers, and tended it carefully from its birth. He took great inter- est in the campaign when John C. Fremont was nominated as Presidential candidate, and addressed large audiences in Massachusetts, New York and Pennsylvania. He was then forty-three years old and in perfect health. With the exception of several months in 1849, when he was so seriously ill as to prevent his preaching from March until September, and three months in 1850, when he made the convalescing trip to Europe, he had not been absent a Sunday from his pulpit. The national peril in 1856 seemed so great, that he was induced by his political friends tJ accept a leave of absence from his church and travel throu.orh the Middle and Western States on a kind of oratorical pilgrimage. Wherever he went his fame preceded him, and in that memo- 270 HENRY WARD BEECHER. li ii;i rable fight he added laurels of imperishable re- nown to those already won. The defeat of Fremont, which Mr. Beecher and many others believed to be the work of Penn- sylvania tricksters, consolidated the Republican party, intensified the growing hatred of the sections and afforded the extremists both sides of Mason and Dixon's line a never-ending theme of dis- cussion. Plymouth pulpit had become a national insti- tution. The streets of Brooklyn leading from the fer- ries were busy widi processions of men from New York looking for " Beecher." The policeman never waited for a stranger to conclude his ques- tion, but invariably interrupted him and said, •* Follow the crowd." That hundreds heard Mr. Beecher preach from Sunday to Sunday who hated him and his doctrines is undoubtedly the fact. Some of the " best people " in the city re- fused to speak to him, and all over the land he was villified and abused. Some of his people left his ministry. And where one went, twenty new ones came. He demanded a free platform for himself, and accorded it to others. His people did not ser- vilely believe anything because he said it, for they often maintained opinions different from his to the end. Fortunately Mr. Beecher was a many-sided man. ij.««^«isia^). HENRY WARD BEECHER. 271 His superabundant health and exuberant flow of spirits made him fresh and full of life. Cares, troubles and work seemed but to inspire him. The more he had to do the easier he did it. The habits of his life were regular. For years after he began his Brooklyn work he slept an hour or two every afternoon. He ate sparingly. At first it was his habit after the evening service to go with his wife and a few friends to the house of a parishioner and eat a hearty supper — cold roast beef, roast oysters, cold fowl, or whatever — but as he grew stout and older he gave that habit over. So far as the public were concerned he was equable in temper. He always bore himself good- naturedly, and from the first met strangers, ( Id and young, with a frank look and a pleasant smile. At this period — 1856 and on — he was writing for the Independent, lecturing two or three times a week, preaching twice every Sunday, lecturing in his chapel Wednesday evenings and talking with his people in the prayer-meetings of Friday; this, in addition to pastoral calls, funeral ser- vices, weddings, and the thousand and one impor- tunities to which popular men of all professions are liable. But even this did not seem to be enough. Throwing his heart into the work, he endeav- ored, in spite of great national excitement, to turn the thought of his people heavenward, and in 1 85 7-59 the most "extraordinary works of -mma-^ 272 HENRY WARD BEECHER. grace were in progress" in his congregation. In the early summer of 1858 a perfect harvest of young people was gathered into the church, the total number being 378. Meantime, Mr. Beecher, in his pulpit and by his pen, stirred the depths of the heart of the nation, and although to many it appeared as if pastor and church were monomaniacs, it must be admitted that they stood together in stormy and troublesome times, faithful witnesses to the great truths of human right and human liberty. Later on, when, as the result of such agitation, discus- sion broke out into a flame of war, they did not flinch, but gave their sons and daughters, sending them to the field and hospital. He kept a vigil- ant eye upon affairs and was one on whom men in authority leaned for counsel. He had worked hard to elect Abraham Lincoln, and often thanked God that He had raised such a man from the level of the people. As the nation hesitated in its first step, the clarion cry of Beecher recalled it to its duiy. Later on, when disaster and defeat sent a thrill of dismry through the North, the voice of Beecher warned the people of the danger of neg- lecting duty and the infamy of desertion. He wrote, and spoke, and urged, and worked without rest. He coiinselled the President, cheered the troops, and encouraged the people. VI. WAR TIMES. AMONG the young men with whom Mr. Beecher associated immediately after his coming East, were Horace Greeley and Henry J. Raymond. Later, in the early days of the Republican party, he found in Mr. Raymond a congenial companion and friend, with whom he held frequent consultations as to policy, platform, candidates. In i860 Mr. Raymond, when asked as to the authorship and attending circumstances of a notable address issued by a large convention of delegates from all the non-slave-holding and some of the slave-holding States, held in Pitts- burgh in February, 1856, said, "I wrote the address. So far as the mere phrasing of it goes I alone am responsible, but for much of its argu- ment and all its conclusions Henry Ward Beecher is quite as much responsible as I. The whole scope was discussed between us before pen was put to paper, md the arraignment of the men then in power r high crimes against the Consti- tution, the Uniun and humanity, was suggested and all but phrased by Mr. Beecher." (278) immM mmM i^H int 274 HENRY WARD BEECHER. With pen and voice, in newspaper, in pulpit and on platform, the Plymouth pastor, the people's tribune, worked incessantly for the advancement of the purpose of the Republican party then born, and to secure if possible the election of Fremont and Dayton, its first candidates. The subsequent defeat, so narrow in one sense, so broad in another, had an inspiring effect upon Mr. Beecher and his comrades, and, renevvedly devoting themselves and all there was in them to the furtherance of the progress of the principles that underlaid that party, they pushed on toward the end. When Abraham Lincoln came to New York, ia 1859, he sought an interview with Mr. Beecher, attended services in Plymouth Church, and dined with him in the house of a friend. The contrast between the two men of the West was marked, and the impression produced by their conversation was deep and lasting. Mr. Beecher was an absorber, and the facility with which he drew information from all sources at his command was one ot the rare ijifts that made him, in combination, so tremendous a force, so thorou.ghly-posted an advocate, so well-guarded a defender. Living issues were all in all to him. The sins of the aborigines had passed away for settlement with those who committed them, but the sins of to-day, committed by the nation which endorsed individual transgression, black- HENRY WARD BFECIIER. 275 ened the escutcheon of the country and smirched the reputation of the land to such an extent that all her patriotic sons feh chagrined, humiHated, in the presence of foreign critics. Mr. Lincoln was infinitely more conservative then than his clerical host. He was disposed to listen patiently, if not with entire acquiescence, to the suggestions of Mr. Greeley and others, who believed in peace at any cost. He counselled moderation, preferring to suffer yet a little longer rather than do anything which might precipitate a conflict, concerning tht. issue of which he, like a vast majority of thinkers, had very grave doubts. Not so Henry Ward Beecher. Whatever may have been the inspiration, who can doubt the magical outcome ? Whether it be that he was dominated by sympathy, and that his feelings were stirred upon occasion by what he saw, he heard, he felt, who that heard, who even that has the privilege to-day of reading his flam- ing discussions, his exciting appeals, his solemn warnings, doubts that he meant precisely what he said, standing as he did, a prophet in the very gateway of disaster ? By the merest accident Mr. Beecher was not a delegate to the convention which met in Chicago in i860 and nominated Abraham Lincoln. He had but to say the word, and he could have gone as delegate-at-large from New Yorh, or any one 17 '^ • 276 HENRY WARD BEECIIER. !ii I i!i of four other States. He did not believe in the wisdom of nominating William H. Seward. He admired excessively Salmon P. Chase. He had firm faith in Abraham Lincoln, and he had a very pronounced conviction concerning the desirability of placing Horace Greeley in that, or any other executive position, where intelligent firmness should be the dominant quality. There he and Mr. Raymond differed. Mr. Raymond, like Governor E. D. Morgan and William M. Evarts, and the entire New York delegation, was not only firm and steadfast in his determination to secure the nomination in Chicago for Mr. Seward, but was absolutely confident that that would be the end of their deliberations. Mr. Raymond attended the convention as a delegate, but sat with a representative of his paper, TJie Times, at the press-table upon the platform. "Let me see your despatch," said he. It was shown him. With characteristic quickness, laugh- ing, he drew his pen through the introduction which predicted the nomination of Lincoln and the utter discomfiture of the Seward cohort, and changed absolutely its reading and its meaning. Then, handing it to the correspondent, he said : " I would not have had Henry Ward Beecher read that despatch of yours in The Times to-morrow morning for one thousand dollars." Circum- stances changed, however, during the day so completely that Mr. Raymond's . despatch was HENRY WARD BEECHER. 277 killed, and die correspondent was directed by his chief to continue as he had begun, and at the same time was told to wire Henry Ward Beecher in Mr. Raymond's name that his Western friend stood the best chance for success. One of the first to call upon Mr. Raymond in The Times office upon his return from Chicago was Mr. Beecher, then in the very prime of men- tal and physical strength. With a laugh that was almost a roar, he burst into the editorial room where Mr. Raymond sat, his chair tilted upon its two forelegs, and grasping him cordi- ally, heartily, vigorously said: "Young man, I know the people of this country at heart better than you do. Your friend Seward has too much head and too little heart to succeed in any such crisis as this." "And yours," replied Mr. Raymond, " I fear, has too much heart and too little head for such a crisis as will assuredly be precipitated." "Trust, then," replied Mr. Beecher, "in God, and keep your powder dry." In later years, when trials came and death threw its dark shadow over the Raymond house- hold, the head of which lay powerless for further good or evil, a great congregation assembled to do honor to his memory. The most distinguished men of the nation were there, his friends and his opponents. The editor of every conspicuous journal in the city and many from out of town IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) '^h^O I .<^' c X? > -£?- t??^ :/ !.0 I.I 1.25 |50 "^^ " IIM e I; 16 1.4 ||M 22 1.6 ■Z (^ ^ /^ V e. c^ VI '>^ i?* ^ ^" ->r (9 /. / //A PI lotograptiic Sciences Corporation iV -^^ ^<^ \ :i\^ :\ \ 6^ % ^^ 33 WEST MAIN STREET WEBSTER, NY. 14580 (716) 872-4503 w &< ^ w. ea ^8 HENRY WARD BEECH ER. met with this vast assemblage, coming through a storm that was absolutely terrific, and at great personal inconvenience. The preacher had his opportunity. Whispers were running through the community, and ungenerous criticisms were passed upon the life of the man who lay helpless in their presence. Then, as always, the preacher and the friend united in the person of Henry Ward Beecher came to the front, and boldly challenged those in his audience who were without sin to throw the first stone. Then after reciting quickly, vividly, earnestly and so truthfully that he needed no en- dorser, the salient points of the great journalist's life, he dwelt with marked and significant empha- sis upon that period in his work when the nation hung upon his utterances, and bore witness that when men in high station counselled peace at any price, pondered whether it wodild not be bet- ter to lower the flag a little v;ay and let the way- ward sisters of the South depart, if they would, quickly, Raymond, on the contrary, nailed his colors to the mast, ringing out words that belted the continent, carrying terror into the hearts of those who tried to break the Union down, and giving renewed inspiration to those who had faith in the principles upon which it was founded, quoting the ever memorable words of Webster, "The Union now and forever, one and insepa- rable." HENRY WARD BEECHER. rm Beecher never forgot a friend ! The campaign was hot. Secession feeling, already at fever heat, ramified not only every township in the South, but found sympathizers in every city in the North. Then it was that Beecher's power and influence were'^best exem- plified. Then it was that Frederic Hudson, the able first-lieutenant of James Gordon Bennett, said : " It is probable that there is not another man in the United States who is as much heard and read as Henry Ward Beecher, unless the other man be Wendell Phillips. These two preachers, publicists and journalists, are emphatically the greatest of their kind in the country. They use the pulpit, the lecture-room, the stump, the news- paper, in the fullest sense. No question comes before the public that is not immediately seized upon by one or both of these men. Every jour- nal at the North throws open its columns to them. Even the leading papers of New York, full of their own vigorous, mental resources, will not only do this, but they will send their best stenographers to report what these orators utter. In addition to this, these leading editors will re- view the speeches, or sermons, or communica- tions of these two master-spirits of the forum in article after article, thus increasing their notoriety, power and influence with every article. Where James Gordon Bennett has half a million readers for one of his articles, Wendell Phillips has one ^i]^H| ( 1 ^ i ^^b. 280 HENRY WARD BEECHER. or two millions. While Phillij^ indulges in poli- tics, Beecher is equally successKil with his relig- ious notions. They appear in newspapers and pamphlets everywhere, to the right of us and to the left of us. Are not these two men, therefore, the two great editors of the United States — the two journalists /^r excellence of America? " The labors of Mr. Beecher during that great campaign were simply tremendous. Every word he uttered was reported, and be- lieving the election of Abraham Lincoln a neces- sity to the public, and arguing, as he always did, that a consultation of the interests of the Repub- lic was a religious duty to every citizen, and, practising what he preached, that the pulpit was the place from which citizenship in its highest and noblest and truest sense should be taught, he made it a point every Sunday night to deliver a discourse which should have a practical bearing upon the duties of the hour. Now it will be remembered that Plymouth Church is in Kings county. New York State. New York State is one of the most evenly bal- anced of all the Northern States between the two parties, but the strength of the Democratic party is found in the two cities. New York and Brook- lyn, and anything that tends to reduce the Demo- cratic majority in those cities goes far, of course, to help possible preponderance of the Republican party in the State. The result in New York i !n HENRY WARD BEECHER. 281 State in i860 gave Lincoln 353,804 votes and Douglas 303,329 votes, and without discussing in any sense how far that outcome was due to Mr. Beecher's efforts it will suffice to say that upon him were centred very largely the threats, the insults, the annoyances which came from the defeated party, North and South, with the veiie- mence of a torrent's rush. Communication was at once opened between Mr. Lincoln and Mr. Beecher in reference to a cabinet formation, Mr. Beecher did not favor the selection of William H. Seward as Secretary of State, but he did recognize the wisdom of a policy which brought into the council-chamber of the belea- guered chief all the disaffected and opposing ele- ments which had arraye themselves against the chief prior to his election. With Mr. Chase, Mr. Beecher's relations had for many years been warm and friendly. The other members of the cabinet he knew but little of. He had never seen Simon Cameron, and when Edwin M. Stanton succeeded Mr. Cameron, he asked who he was. Of Gideon Welles,of Connecticut, he had no opinion whatever, for he knew nothing of him. He had very serious doubts concerning the de- sirability of Edward Bates as Attorney-General, and was decidedly opposed to the selection of Caleb B. Smith, of Indiana, as Secretary of the Interior. Of Andrew Johnson, as Vice-President, i I 282 HENRY WARD BEECHER. he entertained great hope, and expressed re- peatedly a belief that he would not be found wanting. This is no place in which to discuss the war, or the rebellion, save in their relations to the subject of this sketch. Suffice it that at first matters did not apparently work out toward a desired end, and Mr. Beecher, like all the lion-hearted leaders at the North, was fretted and worried with reasonable apprehensions. He wrote, he lectured, he preached, he advised. He wore him- self out. In 1863, for the benefit of his health, he visited Great Britain and the Continent with President Raymond, of Vassar College. On his arrival he was asked to speak, but he preferred not. It was generally believed that one reason for his trip was the desire of our authorities to counteract the anti- Union impressions and prejudices that seemed to control the English people; but there was no ground for such belief, and Mr. Beecher left the country and, with his friend, made the Continental tour. On his return he found the friends of the Union cause down-hearted. The Confederates were not only not put down, but they were having their own way. The Union authorities were not only unsuccessful, but they appeared to be para- lyzed and discouraged by the magnitude of their undertaking. Without consultation with him, the Americans in Great Britain had arranged that t'-5;< tes HENRY WARD BEECHER. 283 Mr. Beecher should speak in Manchester, Glas- gow, Liverpool and London. It was very easy to " arrange." The task was for the speaker. Stirred by long-nursed hatred of the man and his principles, the Southern agents, aided by their English friends and blockade-runners, organized gangs of roughs to attend and, if possible, to break up the meetings. Fortunately, Mr. Beecher had entirely recovered his health. He was in prime condition. He knew his subject, and his whole heart was in his work. The largest hall was en- gaged. The largest hall was packed. When the orator appeared, at once there rose so wild a yell, such a storm of hisses and such an outburst of opprobrium, that braver men would have been justified in declining to face them Not so Mr. Beecher. He advanced to the front of the platform and benignantly smiled. He was the embodiment of good nature — fat, round and jolly. His bump of humor was erect and took in the situation. Of physical danger — and there was plenty of it — he had no fear. All he wanted was silence and atten- tion. He made friends with the reporters at once. They spoke to him and he to them. Gradually the uproar diminished and he began to speak. It then repeated itself only again to subside. After a little Mr. Beecher suggested the propriety of fair play in the matter, and expressed his perfect ■^ I !1 284 HENRY WARD BEECHER. faith in the desire of every Englishman present to give him at least half the time. That broke the spell. It was useless to fight a man who laughed. It was folly to spend the evening in shouting at a man who was content to wait until his oppo- nent's throat was choked with, hoarseness, and they allowed him to proceed. They soon felt the warmth of his nature, and yielded to the mag- netism of his manner. Before he had spoken an hour he held the audience in his hand. Then came the tug of war. Scattered in the audience were the Confederate agents. They knew Beecher of old. They appreciated his power and feared precisely what had happened. To divert the audience was their evident cue. But how? By disconcerting Mr. Beecher! To accomplish this, one after another asked him questions. That was his c^ portunity. Every question was a text. Each interruption was a chance. Repartee and rejoinder flashed from his lips. Wit and eloquence flowed like water. Pos- sessed of all the facts, historical and political, familiar with the social tendencies of slavery, posted about the leaders and alive to the impor- tance of his victory as to the cause of his country, Mr. Beecher gave that audience a specimen of zealous patriotism, American eloquence and sledge-ham. r.er argument that compelled them to confess judgment, and cheer him to the echo. HENRY WARD BEECHER. 287 That he won his oratorical battles in every place he spoke even his enemies declared. Every word he uttered was reported and printed. He displayed himself in all his best array. He made the people listen to his sober arguments, laugh at his wit, and weep when he mourned. The man who had hitherto been known as " Ward Beecher, a brother of Mrs. Beecher Stowe," now had his own firm foundation. Social attention^ were showered on him, and he became the rage, but the same self-respect that had sustained him when he was literally ignored before, now kept him from the abasement of recognizing aught that did not benefit the cause he served. Concerning his work Oliver Wendell Holmes, in the Atlantic Monthly of January, 1864, wittily says: " Mr. Beecher made a single speech in Great Britain, but it was delivered piecemeal in different places. Its exordium was uttered on the ninth of October at Manchester, and its peroration was pronounced on the twentieth of the same month in Exeter Hall. " He has himself furnished us an analysis of the train of representations and arguments of which this protracted and many-jointed oration was made up. At Manchester he attempted to give a history of diat series of political movements, extending through half a century, the logical and inevitable end of which was open conflict between 288 HENRY WARD BEECHER. the two opposing forces of freedom and slavery. At Glasgow his discourse seems to have been al- most unpremeditated. A meeting of one or two temperance advocates, who had come to greet him as a brother in their cause, took on ' quite acci- dentally' a political character, and Mr. Beecher gratified the assembly with an address which really looked as if it had been in great measure called forth by the pressure of the moment. It seems more like a conversation than a set ha- rangue. " First, he very good-humoredly defines his position on the temperance question and then naturally slides into some self-revelations whic'i we who know him accept as the simple expression of the man's character. This plain speaking made him at home among strangers more im- mediately, perhaps, than anything else he could have told them. * I am born without moral fear. I have expressed my views in any audience, and it never cost me a struggle. I never could help doing it.' " The way a man handles his egoisms is a test of his mastery over an audience or a class of readers. What we want to know about the per- son who is to counsel or lead us is, just what he is, and nobody can tell us so well as himself. " Every real master of speaking or writing uses his personality as he would any other serviceable material ; the very moment a speaker or writer HENRY WARD BEECHER. 289 begins to use it, not for his main purpose, but for vanity's sake, as all weak people are sure to do, hearers and readers feel the difference in a mo- ment. Mr. Beecher is a strong, healthy man, in mind and body. His nerves have never been corrugated with alcohol ; his thinking marrow is not brown with tobacco-fumes like a meerschaum, as are the brains of so many unfortunate Ameri- cans ; he is the same lusty, warm-blooded, strong- fibred, brave-hearted, bright-souled, clear-eyed creature that he was when the college boys at Amherst acknowledged him as the chiefest among their football-kickers. " He has the simple frankness of a man who feels himself to be perfectly sound, in bodily, men- tal and moral structure; and his self-revelation is a thousand times nobler than the assumed imper- sonality which is a common trick with cunning speakers who never forget their own interests. Thus it is that wherever Mr. Beecher goes, every- body feels, after he addressed them once or twice, that they knew him well, almost as if they had always known him ; and there is not a man in the land who has such a multitude that look upon him as if he were their brother. "Having magnetized his Glasgow audience, he continued the subject already opened at Man- chester by showing, in the midst of that great, toiling population, the deadly influence exerted by slavery in bringing labor into contempt, and its 290 HENRY WARD BEECHER. ruinous consequences to the free workingman everywhere. "In Edinburgh he explained how the nation grew up out of separate States, each jealous of its special sovereignty ; how the struggle for the control of the united nation, after leaving it for a long time in the hands of the South to be used in favor of slavery, at length gave it into those of the North, whose influence was to be for freedom; and for this reason the South, when it could no longer rule the nation, rebelled against it. In Liverpool, the centre of vast commercial and manufacturing interests, he showed how those interests are injured by slavery; ' that this attempt to cover the fairest portion of the earth with a slave population that buys nothing, and degraded white population that buys^next to nothing, should array against it the sympathy of every true politi- cal economist, and every thoughtful and far-seeing manufacturer, as tending to strike at the vital want of commerce — not the want of cotton, but the want of customers.* " In his great closing effort at Exeter Hall, in London, Mr. Beecher began by disclaiming the honor of having been a pioneer in the anti-slavery movement, which he found in progress at his entry upon public life, when he ' fell into the ranks, and fought as well as he knew how, in the ranks, or in command.' He unfolded before his audience the plan and connection of his previous addresses, HENRY WARD BEECHER. 291 in lie Iry showing how they were related to each other as parts of a consecutive series. He had endeavored, he told them, to enlist the judgment, the con- science, the interests of the British people against the attempt to spread slavery over the continent and the rebellion it has kindled. He had shown that slavery was the only cause of the war, that sympathy with the South was only aiding the building up of a slave-empire, that the North was contending for its own existence and that of popu- lar institutions. " Mr. Beecher then asked his audience to look at the question with him from the American point of view. He showed how the conflict began as a moral question ; the sensitiveness of the South ; the tenderness for them on the part of many Northern apologizers, with whom he himself had never stood. He pointed out how th° question gradually emerged into politics ; the encroachments of the South, until they reached tlie judiciary it- self; he repeated to them the admissions of Mr. Stephens as to the preponderating influence the South had all along held in the government. An interruption obliged him to explain that adjust- ment of our State and national governments which Englishmen seem to find so hard to under- stand. Nothing shows his peculiar powers to more advantage than just such interruptions. Then he displays his felicitous facility of illustra- tion, his familiar way of bringing a great question 292 HENRY WARD BEECHER. to the test of some parallel fact that everybody before him knows. An American State question looks as mysterious to an English audience as an ear of Indian corn wrapped in its sheath to an English wheat-grower. Mr. Beecher husks it for them as only an American born and bred can do. He wants a few sharp questions to rouse his quick spirit. " Havmg cleared up this matter so that our cousins understood the relations of the dough and apple in our national dumpling, to borrow one of their royal reminiscences; having eulo- gized the fidelity of the North to the national compact, he referred to the action of ' that most true, honest, just and conscientious magistrate, Mr. Lincoln ; ' at the mention of whose name the audience cheered as long and loud as if they had descended from the ancient Ephesians. " Mr. Beedier went on to show how the North could not help fighting when it was attacked, and to give the reasons that made it necessa»*y to fight, reasons which none but a consistent Friend, or avowed non-resistant, can pretend to dispute. His ordinary style in speaking is pointed, stacca- toed, as is that of most successful extemporaneous speakers ; he is ' short-gaited ; ' the movement of his thoughts is that of the chopping sea, rather theln the long, rolling, rhythmical wave-procession of phrase-balancing rhetoricians. But when the lance has pricked him deep enough, when the HENRY WARD BEECHER. 293 red flag has flashed in his face often enough, wh m the fireworks have hissed and sputtered around him long enough, when the cheers have warnied him so that all his life is roused, then his intellectual sparkle becomes a steady glow, and his nimble sentences change their form and be- come long-drawn, stately periods. "'Standing by my cradle, standing by my hearth, standing by the altar of the church, stand- ing by all the places that mark tlie name and memory of heroic men who poured out their blood and lives for principle, I declare that in ten or twenty years of war we will sacrifice everything we have for principle. If the love of popular liberty is dead in Great Britain, you will not un- derstand us ; but if the love of liberty lives as it once lived, and has worthy successors of those re- nowned men that were our own ancestors as much as yours, and whose example and princi' pies wz inherit to make fruitful as so much seed- corn in a new and fertile land, then you will un- derstand our firm, invincible determination — deep as the sea, firm as the mountains, but calm as the heavens above us — to fight this war through at all hazards and at every cost.' "When have Enfjlishmen listened to nobler words, fuller of the true soul of eloquence? Never surely since their nation entered the ab- dominous period of its existence, recognized in all its ideal portraits, for which food and sleep 18 till '.ill lUil «iii 294 HENRY WARD BEECHER. are the prime conditions of well-being. Yet the old instinct which has made the name of English- man glorious in the past was there in the audi- ence before him, and there was * immense cheer- ing,' relieved by some slight colubrine demonstra- tions. . . . " He showed the monstrous absurdity of Eng- land's attacking us for fighting, and lOr fighting to uphold a principle. ' On what shore has not the prow of your ships dashed ? What land is there with a name and a people where your banner has not led your soldiers? And when the great res- urrection reveille shall sound, i*; will muster Brit- ish soldiers from every clime and people under the whole heaven.* . . . He explained that the people who sympathized with the South were those whose voices reached America, while the friends of the North were little heard. 'The first have bows and arrows ; the second have shafts, but no bows to launch them.' "•How about the Russians?* Everybody re- members how neatly Mr. Beecher caught this envenomed dart, and, turning it end for end, drove it through his antagonist's shield of triple bull's- hide. • Now, you know what we felt when you were flirting with Mr. Mason at your Lord- Mayor's banquet' A cleaner and straighter 'counter,' if we may change the image to one his audience would appreciate better, is hardly to be found in the records of British pugilism. HENRY WARD BEECHER. 295 "The orator concluded by a rather sanguine statement of his change of opinion as to British sentiment, of the assurance he should carry bick of the enthusiasm for the cause of the North, and by an exhortation to unity of action with those who share their civilization and religion for the furtherance of the Gospel and the happiness of mankind. The audience cheered again, Professor Newman moved a vote of thanks, and the meet- ing dissolved, wiser and better, we hope, for the truths which had been so boldly declared before them. " What is the net result, so far as we can see, of Mr. Beecher's voluntary embassy? So far as he is concerned, it has been to lift him from the position of one of the most popular preachers and lecturers to that of one of the most popular men in the country. Those who hate his philanthropy admire his courage. Those who disagree with him in theology recognize him as having a claim to the title of apostle quite as good as that of John Eliot, whom Christian England sent to heathen America two centuries ago, and who, in spite of the singularly stupid questionings of the natives, and the violent opposition of the sachems , and pow-wows or priests, succeeded in reclaiming large numbers of the copper-colored aborigines. " We are living in a period not of events only, but of epochs. We are in the transition stage from the miocene to the pliocene period of human ,!■ 296 HENRY WARD BEECHER. existence. A new heaven is forming over our heads behind the curtain of clouds which rises from our smoking battle-fields. A new earth is shap- ing itself under our feet amid the tremors and convulsions that agitate the soil upon which we tread. But there is no such thing as a surprise in the order of nature. The kingdom of God, even, cometh not with observation. "The fruit of Mr. Beecher's visit will ripen in due time, not only in direct results, but in opening the way to future moral embassies, going forth unheralded, unsanctioned by State documents, In the simple strength of Christian manhood, on their errands of truth and peace." The newspapers which at first vilified him began to report him. Then they gave him verbatim. Finally they devoted pages to descriptions of him, his audience, and what he had to say. Books containing all his speeches were printed and scattered in pamphlet form throughout the United Kingdom. From a report of his London speech the following is given ar a sample of what he had to say across the water to meetings packed beyond description. According to the report he said ; "As this is my last public address upon the American question in England, I may be permitted to glance briefly at my course here. At Man- chester I attempted to give a history of the ex- ternal political mo". cment for fifty years past, so far as it was necessary to illustrate the fact that HENRY WARD BEECHER. 297 the present American war viras only an overt and warlike form of a contest between liberty and slavery that had been going on politically for half a century. At Glasgow I undertook to show die condition of work or labor necessitated by any profitable system of slavery, demonstrating that it brought it into contempt, affixing to it the badge of degradation, and that a struggle to extend servile labor across the American continent in- terests every free working-man on the globe. For my sincere belief is that the Southern cause is the natural enemy of free labor and the laborer all the world over. "In Edinburgh I endeavored to sketch how, out of separate colonies and States intensely jeal- ous of their individual sovereignty, there grew up and was finally established a nation, and how in that nation of United States, two distinct and an- tagonistic systems were developed and strove for the guidance of the national policy, which struggle at length passed and the North gained the control. Thereupon the South abandoned the Union simply and solely because the govern- ment was in future to be administered by men who would give their whole influence to freedom. "In Liverpool I labored, under difficulties, to show that slavery in the long-run was as hostile to commerce and to manufacturers all the world over as it was to free interests in human society; that a slave nation must be a poor customer, buy- i 298 HENRY WARD BEECHER. ing the fewest and poorest goods and the least profitable to the producers; that it was the Interest of every manufacturing country to promote free- dom, intelligence and wealth among all nations ; that this attempt to cover the fairest portion of the earth with a slave population that buys next to nothing should array against it every true political economist and every thoughtful and far- seeing manufacturer, as tending to strike at the vital want of commerce, which is not cotton, but rich customers. " I have endeavored to enlist against this flagi- tious wickedness, and the great civil war which it has kindled, the judgment, conscience and inter- ests of the British people. I am aware that a popular address before an excited audience more or less affected by party sympathies is not the most favorable method of doing justice to these momentous topics ; and there have been some other circumstances which made it yet more diffi- cult to present a careful or evenly balanced state- ment ; but I shall do the best I can to leave no vestige of doubt that slavery was the cause, the only cause, the whole cause, of this gigantic and cruel war. I have tried to show that sympathy for the South, however covered by excuses or softened by sophistry, is simply sympathy with an audacious attempt to build up a slave-empire pure and simple. I have tried to show that in this con- test the North were contending for the preserva- n '.1 1 1 HENRY WARD BEECHER. 299 tlon of their government and their own territory, and those popular institutions on which the well- being of the nation depended. " So far, I have spoken to the English from an English point of view. To-night I ask you to look at this struggle from an American point of view, and in its moral aspects. That is, I wish you to take our stand-point for a little while, and to look at our actions and motives, not from what ue enemy say, but from what we say. When two men have disagreed, you seldom promote peace between them by attempting to prove that either of them is all right or either of them is all wrong. Now there has been some disagreement of feel- ing between America and Great Britain. I don't want to argue the question to-night which is right and which is wrong, but if some kind neighbor will persuade two people that are at disagreement to consider each other's position and circumstances, it may not lead either to adopting the other's judgment, but it may lead them to say of each other 'I think he is honest and means well, even if he is mistaken.' You may not thus get a set- tlement of the difficulty, but you will get a settle- ment of the quarrel. I merely ask you to put yourselves in our track for one hour, and look at the objects as we look at them ; after that, form your judgment as you please. " The first and earliest form in which the con- flict took place between the North and South was 300 HENRY WARD BEECHER. purely moral. It was a conflict simply of opinion pnd of truths by argument ; and by appeal to the moral sense it was sought to persuade the slave- holder to adopt some plan of emancipation. When this seemed to the Southern sensitiveness unjust and insulting, it led many in the North to silence, especially as the South seemed to apologize for slavery rather than defend it against argu- ment. It was said, ' The evil is upon us ; we cannot iielp it. We are sullied, but it is a misfortune rather than a fault. It is not right for the North to meddle with that which is made worse by being meddled v/ith, even by argument or appeal.' " That was the earlier portion of the conflict. A great many men were deceived by it. I never myself yielded to the fallacy. As a minister of the Gospel preaching to sinful men I thought it my duty not to give in to this doctrine; their sins were on them, and I thought it my duty not to soothe them, but rather to expose them. "The next stage of the conflict was purely po- litical. The South was attempting to extend their slave system into the Territories and to prevent free States from covering the continent, by bring- ing into the Union a slave State for every free State. It was also the design and endeavor of the South not simply to hold and employ the enor- mous power and influence of the central execu- tive but also to engraft into the whole Federal Government a slave-State policy. They meant to HENRY WARD BEECHER. 301 po- their fill all offices at home and abroad with men loyal to slavery ; to shut up the road to political prefer- ment against men who had aspirations for free- dom, and to corrupt the young and ambitious by obliging them to swear fealty to slavery as the condition of success. I am saying what I know. I have seen the progressive corruption of men naturally noble, educated in the doctrine of liberty, who, being bribed by political offices, at last bowed the knee to Moloch. The South pursued a uni- form system of bribing and corrupting ambitious men of Northern consciences. "A far more dangerous part of its policy was to change the Constitution, not overtly, not by ex- ternal aggression — worse ; to fill the courts with Southern judges, until, first by laws of Congress passed through Southern influence, secondly by the construction and adjudication of the courts, the Constitution having become more and more tied up to Southern ' rinciples, the North would have to submit to slavery or else to oppose it by violating the law and Constitution as construed by servile judges. They were, in short, little by little, injecting the laws. Constitution, and policy of the country with the poison and blood of slavery." After quoting from a speech of Alexander H. Stephens in corroboration of his position, Mr. Beecher proceeded as follows: " Now, take notice first, that the North, hating slavery, having rid itself of it at its own cost, and 1; \'- =\ i ■ 302 HENRY WARD IJEECHER. longing for its extinction throughout America, was unable until this war to touch slavery directly. The North could only contend against slave policy, not direcdy against slavery. Why? Because slavery was not the creature of national law, and therefore not subject to national jurisprudence; but of State law, and subject only to Stntc juris- diction. A d-'-ect act on the part of the North to abolish slavery would have been revolutionary. Such an attack would have been a violation of the fundamental principle of State independence. This peculiar structure of our government is not so unintelligible to Englishmen as you may think. It is only taking an English idea on a larger scale. We have borrowed it from you. A great many do not under^ and how it is that there should be State independence under a national government. Now, I am not closely acquainted with your affairs, but the chamberlain can tell you if I am wrong, when I say, that there belong to the old city of London certain private rights that Parliament cannot meddle with. Yet there are elements in which Parliament — that is, the will of the nation — is as supreme over London as over any town or city of the realm. Now, if there are some things which London has kept for her own judgment and will, and yet others which she has given up to the national will, you have herein the principle of the American Government, by which local matters belong exclusively to the local HENRY WARD BEECHER. 303 jurisdiction and certain general matters to the national government. "I will give you another illustration that will bring it home to you. "There is not a street in London, but, as soon as a man is inside his house he may say his house is his castle. There is no law in the realm which can lay down to that man how many mem- bers shall compose his family, how he shall dress his children, when they shall get up and when they shall go to bed, how many meals he shall have a day, and of what those meals shall be con- stituted. The interior economy of the house be- longs to the members of the house, yet there are many respects in which every householder is held in check by common rights. They have their own interior and domestic economy, yet they share in other things which are national and governmental. It may be very wrong to give children opium, but all the doctors in London cannot say to a man that he shall not drug his child. It is his business, and if it is wrong it can- not be interfered with. " I will give you another illustration. "Five men form a partnership of business. Now that partnership represents the national government of the United States; but it has re- lation only to certain great commercial interests common to them all. But each of these five men has another sphere, his family, and in that sphere 304 HENRY WARD HEECIIER. the man may be a drunkard, a gambler, a lecher- ous and indecent man, but the firm cannot med- dle with his morals. It cannot touch anything but business interests that belong to the firm. Now, our States came together on this doctrine, that each State in respect to those rights and in- stitutions that were local and peculiar to it, was to have undivided sovereignty over its own af- fairs; but that all those powers, such as taxes, wars, treaties of peace, which belong to one State and are common to all the States went into the general government. The general govern- ment never had the power — the power was never delegated to it — to meddle with the interior and domestic economy of the States, and it never could be done. "You will ask what are we doing it for now? "I will tell you in due time. " Have I made that point plain ? It was only that part of slavery which escaped from the State jurisdiction and which entered into the na- tional sphere which formed the subject of con- troversy. We could not justly touch the consti- tution of the State, but only the policy of the national government that came out beyond the State and appeared in Congress and in the Ter- ritories. We are bound to abide by our funda- mental law. Honor, fidelity, integrity, as well as patriotism, required us to abide by that law. The great conflict between the South and the HENRY WARD BEECHER. 306 North until this war bt^gan was, which should control the Federal or Central Government and what we call the Territories ; that is, lands which are the property of the Union, and have not yet received State-rights. That was the conflict. It was not ' emancipation ' or ' no emancipation ; ' government had no business with that question. Before the war, the only thing on which politi- cally the free people of the North and South took their respective sides was, 'Shall the national policy be free or slave ? ' and I call you to witness that forbearance, though not a showy virtue, and fidelity, though not a shining quality, are funda- mental to manly integrity. " During a period of eighty years the North, whose wrongs I have just read out to you, not from her own lips, but from the lips of her enemy, has stood faithfully to her word. With scrupulous honor she has respected legal rights, even when they were merely civil and not moral rights. The fidelity of the North to the great doctrine of State-rights which was born of her ; her forbear- ance under wrong, insult and provocation ; her conscientious and honorable refusal to meddle with the evil which she hated, and which she saw to be aiming at the life of the government and at her own life ; her determination to hold fast pact and Constitution, and to gain her victories by giv- ing the people a new national policy, will yet be deemed worthy of something better than a con- 1 ! 306 HENRY WARD BEECHER. temptuous sneer, or the allegation of an ' enor- mous national vanity.' "The Northern forbearance is one of those things of which we may be justly j^roud ; a prod- uct of virtue, a fruit of liberty, an inspiration of that Christian faith which is the mother at once of truth and of liberty. I am proud to think that there is such a record of national fidelity as that which the North has written for herself by the pen of one of her worst enemies. Now, that is the reason why the North did not at first go to war to enforce emancipation. She went to war to save the national institutions ; to save the Ter- ritories ; to sustain those laws which would first circumscribe, then suffocate, and finally destroy slavery. That is the reason why that most true, honest, just and conscientious magistrate, Mr. Lincoln .... (tremendous cheering). From having spoken much at tumultuous assemblies, I had at tin ^b a fear that when I came here this evening my voice would fail from too much speaking. But that fear is now changed to one that your voices will fail from too much cheering. " How, then, did the North pass from a conflict with the South and a slave policy, to a direct at- tack upon the institutions of slavery itself? " Because, according to the foreshadowing of that wisest man of the South, Mr. Stephens, they beleaguered the national government and the national life with the institution of slavery, obliged HENRY WARD nEECHER. 307 g of ,they the a sworn President, who was put under oath not to invade that institution, to take his choice between the safety and Hfe of the government itself, or the slavery by which it was beleaguered. If any man lays an obstruction on the street and blocks up the street, it is net the fault of the people if they walk over it. As the fundamental riorht of indi- viduals, self-defence cannot be withdrawn without immorality, so the first element of national life is to defend life. As no man attacked on the hi^h- ways violates law, but obeys the law of self- defence — a law inside of the laws — by knocking down his assailant! so, when a nation is assaulted, it is a right and duty, in the exercise of self-defence, to destroy the enemy by which, otherwise, it will be destroyed. "As long as the South allowed it to be a moral and political conflict of policy, we were content to meet the issue as one of policy. But when they threw down the gauntlet of war, and said that by it slavery was to be adjudicated, we could do nothing else than take up the challenge. The police have no right to enter your house as long as you keep within the law ; but when you defy the laws and endanger the peace and safety of the neighborhood they have a right to enter. So in a constitutional government; it has no power to touch slavery while slavery remains a State in- stitution, but when it lifts itself up out of its State humility and becomes banded to attack the nation, 308 it becomes a national enemy, and has no longer exemption. " But it is said, ' The President issued his proc- lamation alter all for political effect, not for hu- manity.' "Of course the right of issuing a proclamation of emancipation was political, but the disposition to do it was personal. Mr. Lincoln is an officer of the State, and in the presidential chair has no more right than your judge on the bench to follow his private feelings. He is bound to ask, 'What is the law ? * not, ' What is my sympathy ? ' And when a judge sees that a rigid execution, or inter- pretation, of the law goes along with primitive justice, with humanity, and with pity, he is all the more glad because his private feelings go with hii public office. " Perhaps in the next house to a kind and be- nevolent surgeon is a boy who fills the night with groans, because he has a cancerou^^ and diseased leg. The surgeon would fain go in and amputate that limb and save that life, but he is not called in and therefore he has no business to go in, though he ever so much wish it. But at last the father says to him, * In the name of God, come in and save my child ; ' and he goes in professionally, and cuts off his leg and saves his life, to the infi- nite disgust of a neighbor over the way, who says, ' Oh, he would not go in from neighborly feeling and cut his leg off.* I should like to know how 1 HENRY WARD BEECHER. 309 any man has a right to cut your leg or mine off except professionally ; and so a man must often wait for official leave to perform the noblest offices of justice and humanity. Here, then, is the great stone of stumbling. At first the President could not touch slavery, because in time of peace it was a legal institution. How, then, can he do it now ? Because in time of war it has stepped beyond its former sphere, and is no longer a local institution, but a national and public enemy. " It is said, ' Why not let the South go ? Since they wont be at peace with you, why do you not let them separate from you ? ' " Because they would be still less peaceable when separated. Oh, if the Southerners only would go ! They are determined to stay ; that is the trouble. We would furnish free passage to all of them if uiey would go. But we say the land is ours. Let them go, and leave to the nation its land, and they will have our unanimous consent. But I wish to discuss this more carefully. It is the very marrow of the matter. I ask you to stand in our place for a little time, and see this question as we see it; afterward make up your judgment. And first, this war began by the act of the South firing at the old flag that had covered both sections with glory and protection. The at- tack made upon us was under circumstances which inflicted immediate, severe humiliation and threatened us with final subjugation. 19 111 I 310 HENRY WARD BEECHER. "The Southerners held all the keys of the country. "They had robbed our arsenals. " They had made our treasury bankrupt. "They had possession of the most importa^.t offices in the army and navy. "They had the vantage of having long antici- pated and prepared for the conflict. We knew not whom to trust. One man failed and another man failed. Men, pensioned by the government, lived on the salary of the government only to have better opportunity to stab and betray it. There was not merely one Judas, there were a thousand in our country. And for the North to have lain down like a spaniel ; to have given up the land that every child in America is taught — as every child in Britain is taught — to regard as his sacred right and his trust ; to have given up the mouths of our own rivers and our mountain citadel without a blow, would have marked the North in all future history as craven and mean. " Secondly, the honor and safety of that grand experiment, self-government by free institutions, demanded that so flagitious a violation of the first principles of legality should not carry off impunity and reward, thereafter enabling the minority in every party conflict to turn and say to the majority, ' If you don't give us our way, we will make war.' O Englishmen ! would you let a minority dictate in such a way to you ? Three thousand miles off of HENRY WARD BEECHER. 31.1 don't make any difference then ; the principle thus introduced would literally have no end — would carry the nation back to its original elements of isolated States. If every treaty may be over- thrown by which States have been setded into a nation, what form of political union may not on like grounds be severed? There is the same force in the doctrine of secession in the applica- tion to counties as in the application to States, and if it be right for a State or a county to secede, it is equally right for a town or a city. "This doctrine of secession is a huge revolving millstone that grinds the national life to powder. " It is anarchy in velvet, and national destruction clothed in soft phrases and periphrastic expressions. But we have fought with the devil ' Slaverj^' and understand him better than you do. No people with patriotism and honor, will give up territory without a struggle for it. Would you give it up ? It is said that the States are owners of their terri- tory! It is theirs to use, not theirs to run away with. We have equal right with them to enter it. " Let me inform you, when those States first sat in convention to form a Union, a resolution was introduced by the delegates from South Carolina and Virginia, 'That we now proceed to form a national government.* The delegate from Con- necticut objected. The New Englanders were State-rights men, and the South, in the first in- stance, seemed altogether for a national govern- m 312 HENRY WARD BEECHER. im in ment. Connecticut objected, and a debate took place whether it should be a constitution for a mere confederacy of States, or for a nation formed out of those States. This was in the convention of 1787. At this convention the resolution of the New England delegates that they should form a confederacy instead of a nation was voted down, and never came up again. " The first draft of the preamble contained these words : ' We, the people of the United States, for the purpose of forming a nation.' But, as there was a good deal of feeling between the North and South on the subject, when the draft came to the committee for revision they had simply to put in the proper phraseology ; they put it, ' for the pur- pose of forming a Union.' But when the question whether the States were to hold their autocracy came up in South Carolina, which was called the Carolina heresy, it was put down and never lifted Its head up again until its secession, when it was galvanized to justify that which has no other pre- tence to justice. " I would like to ask those English gentlemen who hold that it is right for a State to secede when it pleases, how they would like it if the county of Kent would try the experiment? The. men who cry out for secession of the Southern. States in America would say, 'Kent seceding? Ah, circumstances alter cases.' The Mississippi, which is our Southern door and hall to come in HENRY WARD BEECIIER. 313 and go out, runs right through the territory which they tried to rend from us. The South magnani- mously offered to let us use it; but what would you say, if, on going home you found a squad of gypsies seated in your hall who refused to be ejected, saying, * But look here, we will let you go in and out on equitable and easy terms? ' " But there was another question involved — the question of national honor. " If you take up and look at the map that de- lineates the mountainous features of that conti- nent, you will find the peculiar structure of the Alleghany ridge, beginning in New Hampshire, running across the New England States, through Pennsylvania and West Virginia, stopping in the northern part of Georgia. Now, all the world over, men that live in mountainous regions have been men for liberty ; and from the first hour to this hour the majority of the population of West- ern Virginia, which is in this mountainous region, the majority of the population of Eastern Ten- nessee, of Western Carolina and of North Geor- gia, have been true to the Union and were urgent not to go out. They called to the national gov- ernment, 'We claim that, in fulfilment of the com- pact of the Constitution, you defend our rights and retain us in the Union.' We would not suffer a line of fire to be established one thousand five hundred miles along our Southern border out of which, in a coming hour, there might shoot out '314 HENRY WARD BEECHER. wars and disturbances with such a people as the South, that never kept faith in the Union, and would never keep faith out of it. " They have disturbed the land, as old Ahab of accursed memory did, and when Elijah found this Ahab in the way, Ahab said, ' It is Elijah that has disturbed Israel.' Now, we know the nature of this people. We know that if we entered into a truce with them they would renew their plots and violences, and take possession of the continent in the name of the devil and slavery. One more reason why we will not let this people go, is be- cause we do not want to become a military people. A great many say America is becoming too strong; she is dangerous to the peace of the world. But if you permit or favor this division, the South be- comes a military nation, and the North is com- pelled to become a military nation. Along a line of 1,500 miles she must have forts and men to garrison them. These 250,000 soldiers will con- stitute the national standing of the North. "Now, any nation that has a large standing army is in great danger of losing its liberties. " Before this war the legal size of the national army was 25,000. That was all; the actual num- ber was 18,000, and those were all the soldiers we wanted. The Tribune and other papers repeat- edly said that these men were useless in our na- tion. But if the country were divided, then we should have two great military nations taking its HENRY WARD BEECHER. 316 place, and instead of a paltry 1 8,000 soldiers, there would be 250,000 on one side and 100,000 or 200,000 on the other. And if America, by this ill- advised disruption, is forced to have a standing army, like a boy with a knife, she will always want to whittle with it. It is the interest then of the world that the nation should be united, and that it should be under the control of that part of America that has always been for peace ; that it should be wrested from the control and policy of that part of the nation that has always been for more territory, for filibustering, for insulting foreign nations. " But that is not all. " The religious-minded among our people feel that in the territory committed to us there is a high and solemn trust — a national trust. We are taught that in some sense the world itself is a field, and every Christian nation acknowledges a certain responsibility for the moral condition of the globe. But how much nearer does it come when it is one's own country ! And the Church of America is coming to feel more and more that God gave us this country, not merely for material aggrandizement, but for a glorious triumph of the Church of Christ. •' Therefore we undertook to rid the territory of slavery. " Since slavery divested itself of its municipal protection, and has become a declared public 316 HENRY WARD BEECHER. enemy, it is our duty to s*rike down the slavery which would blight this fair western territory. When I stand and look out upon that immense territory as a man, as a citizen, as a Christian minister, I feel myself asking, * Will you permit that vast country to be overclouded by this curse ? Will you permit the cries of bondmen to issue from that fair territory, and do nothing for their liberty?' What are we doing? Sending our ships round the globe, carrying missionaries to the Sandwich islands, to the islands of the Pacific, to Asia, to all Africa. And yet, when this work of redeeming our continent from the heathendom of slavery lies before us, there are men who counsel us to give it up to the devil, and not try to do anything with it. Ah! independent of pounds and pence, inde- pendent of national honor, independent of all merely material considerations, there is pressing on every conscientious Northerner's mind this highest of all considerations — our duty to God to save that continent from the blast and blight of slavery. Yet how many are there who up, down, and over all England are saying, ' Let slavery go, let slavery go ? ' " It is reported, I think, in the biography of one of the most noble of your countrymen. Sir T. Fowell Buxton, that on one occasion a huge favorite dog was seized with hydrophobia. With wonderful courage he seized the creature by the neck and collar, and against the animal's mightiest HENRY WARD BEECHER. 317 uge efforts, dashing hither and thither a^jainst wall and fence, held him until help could be got. If there had been Englishmen there of the stripe of the Times, they would have said to Fowell Buxton, ' Let him go ; ' but is there one here who does not feel the moral nobleness of that man, who, rather than let the animal go down the street, biting children and women and men, risked his life and prevented the dog from doing evil? •' Shall we allow that hell-hound of slavery, mad, mad as it is, to go, biting millions in the future? '* We will peril life, and limb, and all we have, first. "These truths are not exaggerated; they are diminished rather than magnified in my state- ment; and you cannot tell- how powerfully they are influencing us unless you were standing in our midst in America; you cannot understand how firm that national feelinsf is which God has bred in the North on this subject. It is deeper than the sea ; it is firmer than the hills ; it is as serene as the sky over our heads where God dwells. But it is said, 'What a ruthless business this war of extermination is!' I have heard it stated that a fellow from America, purporting to be a minister of the gospel of peace, had come over to England, and that that fellow had said he was in favor of a war of extermination. Well, if he said so he will stick to it, but not in a way in which enemies put these words. 316 HENRY WARD BEECHER. " Listen to the way in which I put them, for if I am to bear the responsibility, it is only fair that I should state them in my own way. We believe that the war is a test of our institutions ; that it is a life-and-death struggle between the two princi- ples of liberty and slavery ; that it is the cause of the common people all the world over. We be- lieve that every struggling nationality on the globe will be stronger if we conquer this odious oli- garchy of slavery, and that every oppressed peo- ple in the world will be weaker if we fail. The sober American regards the war as part of that awful yet glorious struggle which has been going on for hundreds of years in every nation between right and wrong, between virtue and vice, between liberty and despotism, between freedom and bondage. " It carries with it the whole future of our vast continent, its laws, its policy, its fate. "And, standing in view of these tremendous realities, we have consecrated all that we have — our children, our wealth, our national strength — and we lay them all on the altar and say, ' It is better that they should all perish than that the North should falter and betray this trust of God, this hope of the oppressed, this western civiliza- tion.' If we say this of ourselves, shall we say less of the slave-holders ? If we are willing to do these things, shall we say, ' Stop the war for their sakes ? ' If we say this of ourselves, shall we have IS the iod, iza- say do heir lave HENRY WARD BEECHER. 319 more pity for tlie rebellious, for slavery seeking to blacken a continent with its awful evil, dese- crating the social craze, * national independence,' by seekin j^ only an independence that shall enable them to treat four millions as chattels ? "Shall we be tenderer over them than our- selves ? " Standing by my cradle, standing by my hearth, standing by the altar of the Church, standing by all the places that mark the name and memory of heroic men that poured out their blood and lives for principle, I declare that in ten or twenty years of war we will sacrifice everything we have for principle. If the love of popular liberty is dead in Great Britain, you will not understand us ; but if the love of liberty lives as it once lived, and has worthy successors of those renowned men that were our ancestors as much as yours, and whose example and principles we inherit as so much seed-corn in a new and fertile land — then you will understand our firm, invincible determination to fight this war through at all hazards and at every cost. Against this statement of facts and prin- ciples no public man and no party could stand up for one moment in England, if it were permitted to rest upon its own merits. It is, therefore, sought to darken the light of these truths and to falsify facts. " I will not mention names, but I will say this, that there have been important organs in Great 320 HENRY WARD BEECHER. Britain that have deliberately and knowingly spokeii what is not the truth. It is declared that the North has no sincerity. It is declared that the North treats the blacks worse than the South does. A monstrous lie from beginning to end ! It is declared that emancipation is a mere political trick, not a moral sentiment. It is declared that this is the cruel, unphilanthropic squabble of men gone mad with national vanity. Oh, what a pity that a man should * fall nine times the jpace that measures day and night ' to make an apostasy which dishonors his closing days, and to wipe out the testimony for liberty that he gave in his youth ! But even if all this monstrous lie about the North, this needless slander, were true, still it would not alter the fact that Northern success will carry liberty — Southern success slavery. For, when society dashes against society, the results are not what the individual motives of the members of society would make them. The results are what the institutions of society would make them. " When your army stood at Waterloo, they did not know what were the vast moral consequences that depended on that battle. " It was not what the individual soldier meant nor thought, but what the British Empire — the national liqht behind, and the rrenius of that re- nowned kingdom which sent that army to vic- tory — meant and thought. And even if the Presi- dent were false, if every Northern man were a HENRY WARD BEECHER. 321 )ers are lem. did ices leant -the re- vic- [resi- re a juggling hypocrite, that does not change the Con- stitution ; and it does not change the fftct that if the North prevails she carries Northern ideas and Northern institutions with her. *• But I hear a loud protest against war. "Ladies and Gentlemen; Mr. Chairman : There is a small band in our country and in yours — I wish their number were quadrupled — who have borne a solemn and painful testimony against all wars, under all circumstances ; and although I differ with them on the subject of defensive war- fare, yet when men that rebuked their own land, and all lands, now rebuke us, though I cannot accept their judgment, I bow with profound respect to their consistency. But, excepting them, I re- gard this British horror of the American war as something wonderful. "Why, it is a phenomenon in itself! On what shores has not the prow of your ships dashed ? What land is there with a name and a people, where your banner has not led your soldiers? And when the pfreat resurrection reveille shall sound, it will muster British soldiers from every clime and people under the whole heaven. Ah! but it is said this is a war against your own blood. How long is it since you poured soldiers into Canada, and let all your yards work night and day to avenge the taking of twj* men out of the Trent? Old England shocked at a war of prin- ciple ! She gained her glories in such wars. Old 322 HE^RY WARD BEECHER. England ashamed of a war of principle! Her national ensign symbolizes her history, the cross in a field of blood. And will you tell us, who in- herit your blood, your ideas, and your high spirits, that we must not fight ? "The child must heed the parents until the parents get old and tell the child not to do the thing that in early life they whipped him for not doing. And then the child says, 'Father and mother are getting too old ; they had better be taken away from their present home and come to live with us.' Perhaps you think that the old island will do a little longer. Perhaps you think there is coal enough. Perhaps you think the stock is not quite run out yet; but whenever England comes to that stage that she does not go to war for principle, she had better emigrate, and we will give her room. I have been very much perplexed what to think about the attitude of Great Britain in respect to the South. I must, I suppose, look to the opinion of the majority of the English people. •' I don't believe in the Times — [Great applause.] You cut my poor sentence in two, and all the blood runs out of it. I was just going to say that, like most of you, I don't believe in the Times, but I have always read it. Every Englishman tells me that the Times is no exponent of English opinion, and yet I have taken notice that when they talk of men, somehow or other their last ar- HENRY WARD BEECHER. 323 giiment is the last thing that was in the Times. I think it was the Times or Post that said that America was sore because she had not the moral sympathy of Great Britain, and that the moral sympathies of Great Britain have gone to the South. Well, let me tell you that those who are represented in the newspapers as favorable to the South are like men who have arrows and bows strong enough to send the shaft three thousand miles, and those who feel sympathy for the North are like men who have shafts but have no bows that could shoot them far enough. The English sentiment that has made itself felt on our shores is the part that slandered the North and took part with the South ; and if you think we are sensitive, you must take into account that the part of English sentiment carried over is the part that gives its aid to slavery and against liberty. " I shall have a different story to tell when I get back. " A gentleman asks me to say a word about the Russians in New York harbor. As this is a little private, confidential meeting, I will tell you the fact about them. The fact is this; it is a little piece of coquetry. Don't you know that when a woman thinks her suitor is not quite attentive enough, she takes another beau and flirts with him in the face of the old one ? New York is flirting with Russia, but she has her eye on England. Well, I hear men say this is a 324 HENRY WARD BEECHER. piece of national folly that is not becoming on the part of people reputed wise, and in such solemn and important circumstances. It is said that when Russia is now engaged in suppressing the liberty of Poland it is an indecent thing for America to flirt with her. I think so too. Now you know what we felt when you were flirting with Mr. Mason at your Lord-Mayor's banquet. Ladies and gentlemen, it did not do us any harm to have you Englishmen tell us our faults. I hope it don't do you Britishers any hurt to have us tell you some of yours. "Let me tell you my honest sentiments. *' England, because she is a Christian nation, because she has the guardianship of the dearest principles of civil and religious liberty, ought to be friendly with every nation and with every tongue. But when England looks out for an ally she ought to seek for her own blood, her own language, her own children. "And I stand here to declare that America is the proper and natural ally of Great Britain. " I declare that all sort of alliances with con- tinental nations as against America are monstrous, and that all flirtations of America with pandered and whiskered foreigners are monstrous, and that in the great conflicts of the future, when civili- zation is to be extended, when commerce is to be free round the globe, and to carry with it religion and civilization, then two flags should be flying HENRY WARD BEECHER. 326 from every man-of-war and every ship, and they should be the flag with the cross of St. George, and the flag with the stars of promise and of hope. " Now, ladies and gentlemen, when anybody tells you that Mr. Beecher is in favor of war, you may ask : * In what way is he in favor of war ? ' And if any man says he seeks to sow discord be- tween father and son, and mother and daughter, you will be able to say, 'Show us how he is sowing discord?' If I have anything grievous to say of England, I would sooner say it before her face than behind her back. I would denounce Englishmen, if they were maintainers of the monstrous policy of the South. However, since I have come o\er to this country you have told me the .ruth, and I shall be able to bear back an assurance to our people of the enthusiasm you feel for the cause of the North. And then there is the very significant act of your government, the seizure of the rams in Liverpool. Then there are the weighty words spoken by Lord Russell at Glasgow, and the words spoken by the attor- ney-general. These acts and declarations of policy, coupled with all that I have seen, and the feeling of enthusiasm of this English people, will warm the hearts of the Americans in the North. If we are one in civilization, one in religion, one substantially in faith, let us be one in national policy, one in every enterprise for the further- 20 326 HENRY WARD BEECHER. ance of the Gospel and for the happiness of mankind. I thank you for your long patience with me. Ah ! when I was a boy they used to tell me never to eat enough, but always to get up being a little hungry. I would rather go away wishing I had spoken longer than go away with you saying, * What a tedious fellow he was ! ' And therefore, if you will now permit me to close and go, I beg you to recollect that this is the fifth speech of more than two hours' length that I have spoken, on some occasions under difficulties, within seven or eight days, and I am so exhausted that I ask you to permit me to stop." [Great cheering.] It was time for him to return. His people wanted him. His church prayed for him, the country was in sore distress for men with backbone, and in response to repeated sugges- tions he turned his face toward the city of his choice. Yielding, however, to enthusiastic de- mands for a farewell speech, which he delivered in Liverpool on the night of the 30th of October, 1863, he said: " Mr. Chairman ; Ladies and Gentlemen : Al- though this is a festive scene, it is rather with feel- ings of sadness and solemnity that I stand in your midst ; for the hours are numbered that I am to be with you, and the ship is now waiting that I trust will bear me safely to my native land. If already I had to the full those sentiments of reverence ancj ' i ff HENRY WARD BEECHER. 327 even romantic attachment to the memories, to the names, to the truths, and to the very legends of old England, which have been so beautifully al- luded to by the chairman on this occasion — if I had already that preparation, how much, working on that predisposition, do you suppose has been the kindness, the good cheer, the helpfulness which I have received from more noble English hands and hearts that I can name or even now re- member? I have to thank them for almost every- thing, and I have almost nothing to regret in my personal intercourse with the English people ; for I am too old a navigator to think it a misfortune to have steered my bark in a floe or even a storm, and what few waves have dashed over the bow and wetted the deck did not send me below whin- ing and crying. " It was a matter of course. "I accepted it with good-nature at the time. I look back on it, on the whole, with pleasure now; for storms, when they are past, give us on their back the rainbow, and now, even in those dis- cordant notes I find some music. I had a thou- sand times rather that England should be so sen- sitive as to quarrel with me, than that she should have been so torpid and dead as not to have responded at a stroke. " I go back to my native land ; but, be sure, sir, and be sure, ladies and gentlemen that have kindly presented to me this address, that though %: 328 HENRY WARD BEECHER. I needed no such spur, I shall accept the incite- ment of it to labor there for a better understand- ing and an abiding peace between these two great nations. ** I know not what is before me — what criticisms may be made upon my course. I think it likely that many papers that never have been ardent admirers of mine will find great fault with my statements, will controvert my facts, will traverse my reasonings. I do not know but that men will say that I have conceded too much ; and that, melting under the influence of England, I have not been as sturdy here in my blows as I was in my own land. One thing is very certain, that, while before I came here I always attempted to speak the words of truth, even if they were not of soberness, so here I have endeavored to know only that which made for truth first, love and peace next. *' Of course I have not said everything that I knew. So to do would have been to jabber in season and out of season, and fail to promote the sublimest ends that a Chrisdan man or a patriot can contemplate — the welfare of two great allied nations. I should have been foolish if I had left the things which made for peace, and dug up the thihgs that would have made offence. Yet that course was not inconsistent with frankness, with fidelity, and with a due statement of that blame which we have felt attached to the course of Eng- HENKV WAUD BEECHER, 320 land in this conflict. I shall go back to represent to my own countrymen, on fitting occasions, what I have discovered of the reasons for the recent antagonism of England to America. And I shall have to say, piimarily, that the mouth and the tongue of England have been, to a very great ex- tent — as were the mouth and the tongue of old of those poor wretches that were possessed of the devil — not in her own control. The institu- tions of England — for England is pre-eminently a nation of institutions — the institutions of Eng- land have been very largely controlled by a limited class of men ; and, as a general thing, the organs of expression have gone with the dominant insti- tutions of the land. Now, it takes time for a great, unorganized, and to a certain extent unvot- ing public opinion, underneath institutions, to create that grand swell that lifts the whole arch up ; and so it will be my province to interpret to them that there may have been abundant, and various, and widespread utterances antagonistic to us, and yet that they might not have been the voices that rep- resented, after all, the great heart of England. "But there is more than that. "Rising higher than party feeling, endeavoring to stand on some ground where men may be both Christians and philosophers, and looking upon the true nations from this higher point of view, one may see that it must needs have been as it has been; for it so happens that England herself, or 330 HfeNRY WAtlD BEECHfiR. Great Britain, I should say — I mean Great Britain when I say England — Great Britain is herself undergoing a process of gradual internal change. "All living nations are undergoing such changes. *' No nation abides fixed in policy and fixed in institutions until it abides in death, for death only is immovable in this life, and life is a per- petual process of supply. Assimilation, excre- tion, change, and sensitiveness to the causes of change are the marks of life. And England is undergoing a change, and must do so so long as she is vital ; and when you shall have put that round about England which prevents further change, you will have put her shroud around her. " Now, changes cannot be brought to pass among a free, thinking people as you can bring about changes in agriculture or in mechanics, or upon dead matter by the operation of natural laws. Changes that are wrought by the will of consenting men imply hesitation, doubt, difference, debate, antagonisms ; and change is the final stage before which always has been the great conflict, which conflict, with all its mischiefs, is also a great benefit, since it is a quickener and a life-giver ; for there is nothing so hateful in life as death ; and among a people nothing so terrible as dead men that walk about, and do not know they are dead. It therefore comes to pass that in the normal process of a change such as is taking place in England, there will be parties, there will be HENRY WARD BEECHER. 331 divided circles, and cliques, and all those aspects and phenomena which belong to healthy and national progress and change for progress. " Now, it so came to pass that America too was undergoing a change more pronounced; and since, contrary to our hope and expectation, it was a change that went on under the form of revolution, and war in its later period, it at first addressed England only by her senses ; for since the Rebellion broke out and the tidings rolled across the ocean, everybody has said, ' England was for you at first.' I believe so ; because, be- fore men had time to weigh in the balances the causes that were at work on our side; before the patrician had had time to study, 'What might be the influence of this upon my class ? ' — and the churchman, 'What will be the influence of these principles on my position ? ' — and the various parties in Great Britain, 'What will be the influ- ence of American ideas, if they are in the ascen- dency, on my side and on my position ? ' — before men had time to analyze and to ponder, they were for the North and against the South ; because, al- though your anti-slavery feeling is hereditary and legendary, there was enough vitality in it, how- ever feeble, to bring you onto th't side of the North in the first instance. Much more would it have done had it been a really living and quick- ening principle. It is said that up to the time of the trouble of the Trent, England was with us, 1 "ni 'i Si 332 HENRY WARD BEKCHER. i but from that time she went rapidly over the other way. •• Now, that was merely the occasion, but not the cause. " I understand it to have been this.; that there e a great many men and classes of men in i^ngland that feared the reactionary influences of American ideas upon the internal conflicts of England herself; and a great deal of the offonce has arisen, not so much from any direct antago- nism between Englishmen and Americans, as from the feeling of Englishmen that the way to defend themselves at home was to fight their battle in America — and that therefore there has been this strange, this anomalous and ordinarily unex- 'ained cause of the offence and of the difificul- s. "Let us look a little at it. I will not omit to state, in passing, that there has been a great deal of ignorance and a great deal of misconception. But that was to be expected. We are not to sup- pose — it would be supreme egotism for an Ameri- can to suppose — that the great mass of the Eng- lish people should study American institutions, and American policy, and American history, as thev do their own ; and when to that natural un- knowingness by one nation of the affairs of an- other are added the unscrupulousness and won- derfully active exertions of Southern emissaries here, who found men ready to be inoculated, and HENRY VVARt) BKKCHKR. 3.1.1 who compassed sea and land to make proselytes and then made them tenfold more the children of the devil than themselves ; wnen these men began to propagate one-sided facts, suppressing — and suppression has been as vast a lie in Eng- land as falsification — perpetually presenting every rumor, every telegram, and every despatch from thd wrong point of view, and forgetting to correct it when the rest came — finding, I say, these emis- saries and these easy converts, the South has propagated an immense amount of false informa- tion throughout England. We are to take this into account. " But next consider the antagonisms which there are supposed to be between the commer- cial interests of North America and of Enqrland. We are two great rivals. Rivalry, gentlemen, is simply in the nature of a pair of scissors or shears ; you cannot cut with one blade, but if you are going to cut well you must have one rubbing against the other. One bookstore cannot do as much business in a town as two, because the ri- valry creates demand. Everywhere the great want of men is people to buy, and the end of all commerce should be to raise up people enough to take the supplies of commerce. Now, where in any street you collect one, five, ten, twenty booksellers or dry-goods dealers, you attract customers to that point, and so far from being ad- verse to each others' welfare, men clustering to- Mill 1 p 334 HENRY WARD BEECHER. gether in rivalry, in the Jong run and compre- hensively considered, are beneficial to each other. There are many men who always reason from their lower faculties, and refuse to see any ques- tions except selfishly, enviously, jealously. " It is so on both sides of the sea. " Such men will attempt always to foster ri- /alry and make it rancorous. " They need to be rebuked by the honorable men of the commercial world on both sides of the ocean, and put in their right place — under- foot. Against all mean jealousies, I say, there is to be a commerce yet on this globe, compared with which all we have ever had will be I Jt as the size of the hand compared with the cloud that belts the hemisphere. There is to be a res- urrection of nations ; there is to be a civilization that shall bring up even that vast populous con- tinent of Asia into new forms of life, with new demands. There is to be a time when liberty shall bless the nations of the earth and expand their minds in their homes ; when men shall want more and shall buy more. There is to be a sup- ply required that may tax every loom and every spindle and every ship that England has or shall have when they are multiplied fourfold. Instead, therefore, of wasting energy, peace and manhood in miserable petty jealo..sies, trans-Atlantic or cis- Atlantic, the business of England, as of America, should be to strike those key-notes of HENRY WARD fiEECHER. 336 liberty, to sound those deep chords of human rights, that shall raise the nations of the earth and make them better customers because they are broader men. It has also been supposed that American ideas, reacting, will have a power- ful tendency to dissatisfy men with their form of government in Great Britain. This is the sincere conviction of many. *' Ladies and gentlemen, England Is not perfect. *• England has not yet the best political instru- ments any more than we have ; but of one thing you may be certain, that in a nation which is so conservative, which does not trust itself to the natural conservatism of self-governing men, but even fortifies itself with conservatism by the most potent institutions, and gives those institutions mainly into the hands of a conservative class, ordained to hold back the impetuosity of the people — Do you think that any change can ever take place in England until it has gone through such a controversy, such a living fight, as that it shall have proved itself worthy to be received? And will any man tell me, that when a principle or a truth has been proved worthy, England will refuse to receive it, to give it house-room, and to make any changes that may be required j tor it? If voting viva voce is best, fifty years hence you will be found voting in that manner. If voting by the ballot is best, fifty years hence you will have here what we have in America, the 336 HENRY VVAUl) BElXMliU. silent fall of those flakes of paper which comes as snow comes, soundless, but which j^^ather, as snow gathers on the tops of the mountains, to roll with the thunder of the avalanche, that crushes all beneath it. •' But it is supposed that it may extend still farther. It is supposed that the spectacle of a great nation that governs itself so cheaply will react in favor of those men in Europe who de- mand that monarchical government shall be con- ducted cheaply. For men say, look at the civil list; look at the millions of pounds sterling re- quired to conduct our government, and see 30,- cxx),cxx) of men governed on that vast continent at not one-tenth pa/t of the expense. Well, I must say, that if this report comes across the sea, and is true, and these facts do excite such thoughts, I do not see how it can be helped. I do not say that our American example will react to the essential reconstruction of any principles in ynur edifice. I have not in my own mind the belief that it will do more than readapt your economy to a greater facility and to more beneficence in its application ; but that it will ever take the crown from the king's head, or change the organization of your aristocracy, I have not a thought. •• It is no matter what my own private opinion on the subject is. " Did I live, or had I. been born and bred in Eng- land, I have no question that I should feel just as HENRY WARD BEECIIER. 337 you feel; for this I will say, that in no other land that I know of under the sun are a monarchy and an aristocracy — holding power under it, standing around as the bulwark of the throne — in not an- other land are there so many popular benefits accruing under the government ; and if you must have an aristocracy, where in any other land can you point to so many men noble politically, but more noble by disposition, by culture, by man- liness and true Christian piety ? I say this neither as the advocate nor as the adversary of this par- ticular form of government, but I say it simply because there is a latent feeling that American ideas arc in natural antagonism with aristocracy. They are not. "American ideas are merely these — that the end of government is the benefit of the governed. " If that idea is inconsistent with your form of government, how can that form expect to stand ? And if it only requires some slight readjustment from generation to generation, and if that idea is consistent with monarchy and aristocracy, why should you fear any change ? I believe that mon- archy and aristocracy, as they are practically de- veloped in England, are abundantly consistent with the great doctrine that government is for the benefit of the governed. " There has also been a feeling that the Free Church of America, while it might perhaps do in a rough-and-tumble enterprise in the wilderness, 338 HENRY WARD BE2CHER. is not the proper form of church for Great Britain. Well, you are the judges, gentlemen, about that, not we ; and if it is not the proper form for Great Britain, you need not fear that Great Britain will take it. If it is, then it is only a question of time ; you will have to take it. For I hold, sturdy as you are, strongas your will is, persistent as you may be for whatever seems to you to be truth, you will have, first or last, to submit to God's truth. When I look into the interior of English thoughts and feelings and society, and see how in the first stage of our conflict with your old anti-slavery sympathies you went for the North ; how there came a second stage, when you began to fear lest this American struggle should react upon your own parties, I think I see my way to the third stage, in which you will say, ' This Ameri- can struggle will not affect our interior interests and economy more than we choose to allow ; and our duty is to follow our own real original opin- ions and manly sentiments.' "I know of but one or two things that are necessary to expedite this final judgment of Eng- land, and those are, one or two conclusive Federal victories. If I am not greatly mistaken, the con- victions and opinions of England are like iron wedges ; but success is the sledge-hammer which drives in the wedge and splits the log. Nowhere in the world are people so apt to succeed in what they put their hand to as in England, and there- HENRY WARD BEECHER. 339 fore nowhere in the world more than in England is success honored ; and the crownirg thing for the North, in order to complete that returning sympathy and cordial good-will, is to obtain a thorough victory over the South. •' There is nothing in the way of that but the thing itself "Allow me to say, therefore, just at this point and in that regard, that, while looking at it com- mercially, and while looking at it sentimentally, the prolongation of this war seems mischievous, it is more in seeming than in reality, for the North was itself being educated by this war. This North was like men sent to sea on a ship that was but half-built as yet; just enough built to keep the water out of the hull ; but they had both to sail on their voyage and build up their ship as they went. We were precipitated at a civil crisis in which there were all manner of complications, at all stages of progress, in the right direction of this war, and the process of education has had to go on in battle-fields, in the drill-camps, and at home among the people, while they were discuss- ing and taxing their energies for the maintenance of the war. "And there never was as good a school-master as war has been in America. " Terrible was the light of his eye, fearful the stroke of his hand ; but he is turning out as good a set of pupils as ever came from any school in 340 HENRY WARD BEECHER. this world. Now, every single month from this time forward that this struggle is delayed unites the North — brings the North onto that ground which so many have struggled to avoid : ' Union and peace require the utter destruction of slavery.' There Is an old proverb, 'There's luck in leisure.' Let me transmute the proverb and say, ' There is emancipation in delay.' And every human heart, yea, every commercial man that takes any com- prehensive and long-sighted instead of a narrow view of the question, will say, * Let the war thus linger, until it has burned slavery to the very root.' While it is, however, a great evil and a terrible one — I will not diguise it, for war is dreadful to every Christian heart — yet, blessed be God, we are not called to an unmixed evil. •' There are many collateral advantages. " While war is as great, or even a greater evil than many of you have been taught to think, it is wrong to suppose that it is evil only, and that God cannot, even by such a servant as war, work out a great moral result. The spirit of patriotism diffused throughout the North has been almost like the resurrection of manhood. You never can understand what emasculation has been caused by the indirect influence of slavery. I have mourned all my mature life to see men growing up who were obliged to suppress all true convic- tion and sentiment, because it was necessary to compromise between the great antagonisms of HENRY WARD BEECHER. 341 North and South. There were the few pro- nounced anti-slavery men of the North, and the few pronounced slavery men of the South, and the Union lovers (as they were called during the latter period) attempting to hold the two together^ not by a mild and consistent adherence to truth plainly spoken, but by suppressing truth and conviction, and saying, 'Everything for the Union.' " Now during this period I took this ground, that if the ' Union * meant nothing but this — a resignation of the national power to be made a tool for the maintenance of slavery — Union was a lie and a degradation. All over New England and all over the State of New York, and through Pennsylvania, to the very banks of the Ohio, I, in the presence of hisses anti execrations, held this doctrine from 1850 to i860, namely: 'Union is good if it is for justice and liberty; but if it is Union for slavery, then it is thrice accursed.' For they were attempting to lasso anti-slavery men by this word 'Union,' and to draw them over to pro- slavery sympathies and the party of the South, by saying, 'Slavery may be wrong and all that, but we must not give up the Union ;' and it became necessary for the friends of liberty to say, 'Union for the sake of liberty, not Union for the sake of slavery.' Now we have passed out of that period, and it is astonishing to see how men have come to their tongues in the North, and how men of the 21 3^12 HENRY WARD BEECHER; highest accomplishments now say they do not be- lieve in slavery. "If Mr. Everett could have pronounced in 1850 the oration which he pronounced in i860, then might miracles have flourished again. " Not until the sirocco came, not until that great convulsion that threw men as with a backward movement of the arm of Omnipotence from the clutches of the South and from her sorcerer's breath — not until then was it, that with their hundreds and thousands the men of the North stood on their feet and were men again. More than warehouses, more than ships, more than all harvests and every material form of wealth, is the treasure of a nation in the manhood of her men. We could have afforded to have had our stores of wheat burned — there is wheat to plant again. We could have afforded to have our farms burned — our farms can spring again from beneath the ashes. " If we had sunk our ships — there is timber to build new ones. " Had we burned every house — there is stone and brick left for skill again to construct them. "Perish every material element of wealth, but give me the citizen intact ; give me the man that fears God and therefore loves men, and the de- struction of the mere outside fabric is nothing — nothing ! But give me apartments of gold, and build me palaces along the streets as thick as the HH HENRY WARD BEECHER. 343 shops of London; give me rich harvests and ships and all the elements of wealth, but corrupt the citizen, and I am poor. " I will not insist upon the other elements. I will not dwell upon the moral power stored in the names of those young heroes that have fallen in this struggle. I cannot think of it but my eyes run over. They were dear to me, many of them, as if they had carried in their veins my own blood. How many families do I know, in which once was the voice of gladness, in which now father and mother sit childless ! How many heirs of wealth, how many noble scions of old families, well cultured, the heirs to every apparent pros- perity in time to come, flung themselves into their country's cause, and died bravely fighting for it. And every such name has become a name of power, and whoever hears it hereafter shall fe a thrill in his heart — self-devotion, heroic prcHotism, love of his kind, love of liberty, love of God. I cannot stop to 'speak of these things ; I will turn myself from the past of England and of America to the future. *' It is not a cunningly-devised trick of oratory that has led me to pray God and His people that the future of England and America shall be an undivided future and a cordially united one. I know my friend Punch thinks I have been serving out ' soothing syrup * to the British Lion. Very properly the picture represents me as putting a 344 HENRY WARD BEECHER. fcii. spoon into the lion's ear instead of nis mouth ; and I don't wonder that the great brute turns away so sternly from the plan of feeding. If it be an ofifence to have sought to enter your mind by your nobler sentiments and nobler faculties, then I am guilty. "I have sought to appeal to your reason and to your moral convictions. "I have, of course, sought to come in on that side in which you were most good-natured. I knew it, and so did you, and I knew that you knew it ; and I think that any man with comnon- sense would have attempted the same thing. I have sacrificed nothing, however, for the sake of your favor, and if you have permitted me to have any influence with you, it was because I stood ap- parently a man of strong convictions, but with generous impulses as well. It was because you believed that I was honest in my belief, and be- cause I was kind in my feelings toward you. And now when I go back home I shall be just as faith- ful with our 'young folks' as I have been with the ' old folks ' in England. I shall tell them the same things that I have said to their ancestors on this side. I shall plead for Union, for confidence. For the sake of civilization ; for the sake of those glories of the Christian church on earth which are dearer to me than all that I know ; for the sake of Him whose blood I bear about, a perpet- ual cleansing, a perpetual wine of strength and HENRY WARD BEECHER. 345 Stimulation ; for the sake of time and the glories of eternity, I shall plead that mother and daughter — England and America — be found one in heart and one in purpose, following the bright banner of salvation, as streaming abroad in the light of the morning it goes round and round the earth, carrying the prophecy and the fulfilment together, that, ' The earth shall be the Lord's, and that his glory shall fill it as the waters fill the sea.* "And now my hours are moments, but I linger because it is pleasant. You have; made your- selves so kind to me that my heart clings to you. I leave not strangers any longer — I leave friends behind me. I shall probably never, at my time of life — I am now fifty years of age, and at that time men seldom make great changes — I shall probably see England no more ; but I shall never cease to see her. " I shall never speak any more here, but I shall never cease to be heard in England as long as I live. "Three thousand miles is not as wide now as your hand. The air is one great sounding gal- lery. What you whisper in your closet is heard in the infinite depths of heaven. God has given to the moral power of His church something like His own power. What you do in your pulpits in England, we hear in America ; and what we do in our pulpits you hear and feel here ; and so it shall be more and more. Across the sea, that is, as it 346 HENRY WARD BEECHER. were, but a rivulet, we shall stretch out hands of greeting to you, and speak words of peace and fraternal love. Let us not fail to hear ' Amen,* and the responsive greeting, whenever we call to you in fraternal love for liberty, for religion, for the church of God. Farewell ! " At the close the audience rose en masse and cheered him to the echo. VII. NATIONAL RECONSTRUCTION. THE life, thus far, of Henry Ward Beccher, had, it is evident, materially furnished from his brain, his heart, his hand, sufificient for an en- cyclopsedia of teaching, of doctrine, of sugges- tion, of influence upon the races of the earth. Yet he had before him another quarter, and in some respects the most significant quarter of this great century. 1 863-1 873, the first decade in this great period has stretched from point to point a panorama of endeavor and of endurance such as no mortal man ever painted before or since. There were the last days of the great war, with all that that implies. There was that inchoate succeeding space, when every element, North and South and East and West, seemed bent on doing its worst ; when speculation was rife, and dishon- esty dominant ; when bankruptcy stared the na- tion in the eye, and all the people shrank with ap- prehension from the face of affairs. There was the tragic taking off of the much-loved head of the nation. There were the incoming and out- (347) 348 HENRY WARD BEECHER. going of his successor, Andrew Johnson. There was for Mr. Beecher herculean labor in church, in the press, on the platform of the nation. There came to him that exquisite experience, the cele- bration of his silver wedding with Plymouth Church, when all men rose to call him blessed, and even those who hated him wove garlands from their choicest flowers, that they too might swell the ever-increasing anthem, of praise and recognition that seemed to belt the very land. It is not too much to say than when Henry Ward Beecher returned from England he could have claimed any reward in the gift of the gov- ernment, but he preferred for his reward the gratitude of the nation and the affectionate demon- strations of his fellow-citizens. He simply resumed his work, in its several lines, and continued the success of his life. As the war wore on with its ups and downs, its triumphs and its infamies, the question of presidential candidates came up. He was outspoken in his advocacy of Mr. Lincoln's re-nomination, and in the following campaign did much to secure the re-election of the man in whom he had supremest confidence from first to last. His face was set dead against outrages at the the North. He believed in war as an ultimate necessity, and did more by voice and pen to en- courage men at the front and to hold up the hands of those who fought than any twenty who might HF.XRY WARD BF.F.CHER IN 1863. HENRY WARD BEECHER. 351 be named. His companions, his correspondents, his familiar confidants were men who beUeved that the Union in its integrity must be preserved, and that whatever sacrifices were necessary to ac- comphsh that desired end should be made. Did he practise as well as preach ? Let the answer to that be that voluntarily he relinquished a large portion of his salary, and supplemented his income, which was never over- large for a man of his continuous drainings, by outside work with his pen and with his voice. On one occasion, when a friend of his had been arbi- trarily arrested and confined without process of law, or trial, in a State where th ^ was no neces- sity for martial law, and where n such thing ex- isted, he went straight to Washington. The President and his Cabinet were in session ; the presentation of his card secured an immediate audience. Flaming with indignation he arraigned the President and his Cabinet for their cowardice in permitting outrages in the North, where there was no occasion for interference with local law. Turning to him, with his caustic manner and severe tone, Mr. Seward said, " Mr. Beecher, your friend, and others like him, are fomenting disturbance in the North and upsetting all disci- pline." Quick as a flash Mr. Beecher retorted, "No, sir; it is you and your little bell that are subverting discipline and causing dissatisfaction in the North." 352 HENRY WARD BEECHER. This allusion to the "little bell," though not understood possibly now, was broad and pointed then, when the whim, caprice or necessity, as the case might be, of a moment sent men, singly or in squads, as prisoners to the nation's Bastiles upon the tinkle, as it were, of an official bell. A heated discussion ensued, and later in the day, when dining together, the President said, " Mr. Beecher, I have not enjoyed a speech like that since I heard you years ago in old Plymouth. How would you like to be chaplain to the Cabi- net?" Suffice it that Mr. Beecher gained his point, and abundant apology and compensation followed for the aggrieved party. Precisely how many men in trouble the good- hearted preacher helped in those precarious days no one knows; how constant the strain upon his purse even he could never tell. His services were in continuous demand both as preacher and ora- tor, while his sympathies, ever alert, were cease- lessly enlisted in the interest of the armies of the nation. When finally the war was happily ended, and peace declared, he was the first to stretch the hand of reconciliation across the bloody chasm, and in an ever-memorable discourse preached the doctrine of brotherly love. The re-occupation of Fort Sumler and the raising of the old flag was made an occasion of national rejoicing, and Mr. Beecher was chosen as the orator of the day. HENRY WARD BEECHER. 353 But grand and gay as were the festivities of that hour, they paled into insignificance before the return of the patriotic party from their mission of re-establishment, in the presence of a bereave- ment that brought the nations of the earth in mourning to our national capital. The death of Lincoln stirred the deepest depths of Beecher's nature, and wrung from him a tribute of love and esteem, and thoughtful appreciation that will be forever embalmed in the literature of the age. Apprehensive of discord at Washington, Mr. Beecher was one of the first to declare in favor of universal amnesty and impartial suffrage. He believed Andrew Johnson to be a good man, and when he wrote his famous Cleveland letter to Charles G. Halpine and his associates, he evinced more statesman-like qualities than his critics at the time understood. Friends fell from him in consequence. There were many who could not forgive and forget. They were willing to say " I forgive," but they had suffered too much to pretend to forget. These frowned on Mr. Beecher and accused him of being a time-server. At this he laughed as heartily as when the same people charged him with being foolhardy in his anti-slavery campaign. He said he could afford to wait, and he did. He never said " I told you so," but if ever man had temptation to point the finger of derision to- day at his critics of yesterday he had. His Cleve- *! 364 HENRY WARD BEECHER. II land letter is one of the best illustrations of the assertion that he was far in advance of the people and his time that can be given. The war was ended. Doubtless his teachings had done as much to prepare the nation, North and South, for that war as those of any other. But both before and dur- ing the war, an essential point made by him was the difference between the sin of slavery and slave- holders themselves. The one was something to be crushed out, the other, people to be taught. Many a time and oft he traversed the feelings of his people by preaching the doctrine of " love your enemies," the enemies being the South and the holders of human chattels. With a license char- acteristic of the membership of Plymouth Church, short-sighted brethren often called their pastor to account for his sentiments and his utterances, but, as he wrote to Dr. Parker, of London, he always rejoiced in the courage which enabled him to say unpleasant truths to his own people, willing, if need be, to suffer that the truth should prevail. In the fall of 1866 the question of reconstruction of the seceding States was under discussion and feeling ran high, not only on account of the nature of the work to be done, but also on account of the disturbed relations between President Johnson and Congress. President Lincoln had been assassinated, and Johnson had assumed his place. HENRY WARD BEECHER. 355 The statesmen whose vigor and courage had carried the country through thr Civil War were less adequate to the task of restoring the dis- rupted States to peace and unity than they had been to the sudden duties of war. In a general way, then, there were two parties, one counselling a speedy readjustment, the other a longer pro- bation. Prior to Lincoln's assassination he had frequent consultations with Mr. Beecher, and he also coun- selled much and often with Governor Andrews, of Massachusetts. They were both inclined to the policy of immediate restoration, and their views had great weight with Mr. Beecher, as con- firming him in his pre-existing line of thought. It was in the interest of this policy tha Con- vention of Soldiers and Sailors was calleu the city of Cleveland. A committee consisting of Major-General H. W. Slocum, Major-General Gordon Granger, and Brevet Brigadier-General Charles G. Halpine, all Democrats, sent, by the hand of the present writer, to Mr. Beecher, in his home in Peekskill, an invitation to act as chaplain to the convention. Mr. Beecher was suffering with his annual attack of hay-fever, of itself a suf- ficient excuse from all manner of travel and labor of whatever nature. His sympathies were in direct harmony with the policy this convention was called to initiate. The leaders of the movement were known to him 356 HENRY WARD BEECHER. personally, and in them he had entire confidence. After some little discussion as to the best mode of indicating his endorsement of the programme outlined, Mr. Beecher decided to write a letter, which in a very short time became known as " Beecher's Cleveland Letter," and was used as a flail upon his devoted head by sundry hairbrained and thick-skinned members of his flock, but which to-day might well serve as a monument to his sagacity, to the largeness of his heart, to his lofty patriotism. This is the letter : "Peekskill, N. Y., August 30, 1866. " Chas. G. Halpine, B't. Brig.-Gen., 'j H. W. Slocum, Major-Gen., V Committee, Gordon Granger, Major-Gen., J *' Gentlemen: I am obliged to you for the invita- tion which you have made to me to act as chaplain to the Convention of Sailors and Soldiers about to convene at Cleveland. I cannot attend it, but I heartily wish it and all other conventions, of what party soever, success, whose object is the restora- tion of all the States late in rebellion to their fed- eral relations. " Our theory of government has no place for a State except in the Union. It is justly taken for granted that the duties and responsibilities of a State in federal relations tend to its political health and to that of the whole nation. Even Territories are hastily brought in, often before the prescribed HENRY WARD BEECHER. 367 conditions are fulfilled, as if it were dangerous to leave a community outside of the great body- politic. ** Had the loyal senators and representa- tives of Tennessee been admitted at once on the as- sembling of Congress, and, in moderate succession, Arkansas, Georgia, Alabama, North Carolina and Virginia, the public mind of the South would have been far more healthy than it is, and those States which lingered on probation to the last would have been under a more salutary influence to good conduct than if a dozen armies had watched over them. " Every month that we delay this healthful step complicates the case. The excluded population, enough unsettled before, grows more irritable; the army becomes indispensable to local government and supersedes it; the Government at Washington is called to interfere in one and another difficulty, and this will be done inaptly, and sometimes with great injustice ; for our government, wisely adapted to its own proper functions, is utterly devoid of these habits, and unequipped with the instruments which fit a centralized government to exercise authority in remote States over local affairs. Every attempt to perform such duties has resulted in mistakes which have excited the nation. But whatever imprudence there may be in the method, the real criticism should be against the requisition of such duties of the general govern- ment. 358 HENRY WARD BEECHER. "The Federal Government is unfit to exercise minor police and local government, and will in- evitably blunder when it attempts it. To keep a half-score of States under federal authority, but without the national ties and responsibilities ; to oblige the central authority to govern half of the territory of the Union by federal civil officers and by the r.rmy, is a policy not only uncongenial to our ideas and principles, but pre-eminently dan- gerous to the spirit of our government. However humane the ends sought and the motive, it is in fact a course of instruction, preparing our govern- ment to be despotic ; and familiarizing the people to a stretch of authority which can never be other than dangerous to liberty. " I am aware that good men are withheld from advocating the prompt and successive admission of the exiled States by the fear, chiefly, of its effect upon the freed men. "It is said that, if admitted to Congress, the Southern senators and representatives will coa- lesce with Northern Democrats and rule the coun- try. Is this nation, then, to remain dismembered, to serve the ends of parties ? Have we learned no wisdom by the history of the past ten years, in which just this course of sacrificing the nation to the exigencies of parties plunged us into rebellion and war ? " Even admit that the power would pass Into the hands of a party made up of Southern men, HENRY WARD BEECHER. 369 and the hitherto dishonored and misled Democracy of the North, that power could not be used just as they pleased. The war has changed, not alone institutions, but ideas. The whole country has advanced. Public sentiment is exalted far beyond what it has been at any former period. A new party would, like a river, be obliged to seek out its channels, in the already existing slopes and forms of the continent. " We have entered a new era of liberty. The style of thought is freer and more noble. The young men of our times are regenerated. The great army has been a school, and hundreds of thousands of men are gone home to preach a truer and nobler view of human rights. All the industrial interests of society are moving with in- creasing wisdom toward intelligence and liberty. Everywhere, in churches, in literature, in natural science, in physical industries, in social questions, as well as in politics, the nation feels that the winter is over and a new spring hangs in the horizon and works through all the elements. In this happily changed and advanced condition of things no party of the retrograde can maintain itself. Everything marches and parties must march. " I hear with wonder and shame and scorn the fear of a few that the South, once more in adjust- ment with the l^'ederal Government, will rule this nation ! The North is rich, never so rich ; the 22 mo HENRY WARD nF.KCHER. South is poor, never before so poor. The popu- lation of the North is nearly double that of the South. The industry of the North, in diversity, in forwardness and productiveness, in all the ma- chinery and education required for manufactur- ing, is half a century in advance of the South. Churches in the North crown every hill, and schools swarm in every neighborhood ; while the South has but scattered lights, at long distances, like light-houses twinkling along the edge of a continent of darkness. In the presence of such a contrast, how mean and craven is the fear that the South will rule the policy of the land ! That it will have an influence, that it will contribute, in time, most important influences or restraints, we are glad to believe. But if it rises at once to the control of the government it will be because the North, demoralized by prosperity and besotted by grovelling interests, refuses to discharge its share of political duty. In such a case the South will not only control the government, but it ought to do it. " It is feared, with more reason, that the res- toration of the South to her full independence will be detrimental to the freedmen. The sooner we dismiss from our mind the idea that the freed- men can be classified and separated from the white population, and nursed and defended by themselves, the better it will be for them and us. The negro is part and parcel of Southern society. HENRY WARD BEECHER. 361 He cannot be prosperous vvhiU; it is iirtprospered. Its evils will rebound upon him. Its happiness and reinvigoration cannot be kept from his par- ticipation. The restoration of the South to ami- cable relations with the North, the reorganization of its industry, the reinspiration of its enterprise a'nd thrift, will all redound to the freedmen's bene- fit. Nothing is so dangerous to the freedman as an unsettled state of society in the South. On him comes all the spite, and anger, and caprice, and revenge. He will be made the scapegoat of law- less and heartless men. Unless we turn the government into a vast military machine, there cannot be armies enough to protect the freed- men while Southern society remains insurrection- ary. If Southern society is calmed, settled and occupied and soothed with new hopes and pros- perous industries, no armies will be needed. Riots will subside, lawless hangers-on will be driven off or better governed, and a way will be gradually opened to the freedmen, through edu- cation and industry, to full citizenship, with all its honors and duties. " Civilization is a growth. None can escape that forty years in the wilderness who travel from the Egypt of ignorance to the promised land of civilization. The freedmen must take their march. I have full faith in the results. If they have the stamina to undergo the hardships which every uncivilized people has undergone in 362 HEffRY WARD BEECHER. its upward progress, they will in due time take their plac^ among us. That place cannot be bought, nor bequeathed, nor gained by sleight of hand. It will come to sobriety, virtue, industry and frugality. As the nation cannot be sound until the South is prosperous, so, on the other extreme, a healthy condition of civil society in the South is indispensable to the welfare of the freed- men. "Refusing to admit loyal senators and repre- sentatives from the South to Congress will not help the freedmen. It will not secure for them the vote. It will not protect them. It will not secuje any amendment of our Constitution, how- ever just and wise. It will only increase the dangers and complicate the difficulties. Whether we regard the whole nation, or any section of it or class in 't, the first demand of our time is en- tire reunion ! "Once united, we can, by schools, churches, a free press and increasing free speech, attack every evil and secure every good. Meanwhile, the great chasm which rebellion has made is not tilled up. It grows deeper and stretches wider ! Out of it rise dread spectres and threatening sounds. Let that gulf be closed, and bury in it slav ^ry, sectional animosity, and all strifes and hatreds ! "It is fit that the brave men w» o, on sea and land, faced death to save this nation, should now, HENRY WARD BEECHER. 363 by their voice and vote, consummate what their swords rendered possible. " For the sake of tlie freedmen, for the sake of the South and its milHons of our fellow-country- men, for our own sake and for the great cause of freedom and civilization, I urge the immediate re- union of all the parts which rebellion and war have shattered. "I am truly yours, ** Henry Ward Beechlr." To-day, when the wisdom of this policy cannot be questioned, it may be difficult to understand the turmoil, the tumult, the trouble, the apprehen- sion it created in the minds of partisan , of petty politicians, of weak-minded although Christian brethren. So great was the dissatisfac 'on, that a member of Plymouth Church wrote to Mr. Beecher while confined to his farm and ill, com- plaining that Mr. Beecher had, by putting him- self on record as a Johnson man, done irreparable injury to himself and the church he represented. This letter he answered, and concernii:.^ the second letter he wrote in December, 1884, twenty years nearly after the writing of the two Cleveland letters, as follows : " Not many days after the convention. Presi- dent Johnson began that ill-favored journey, called 'swinging around the circle,' during the progress of which his injudicious speeches, tern- m 364 HENRY WARD BEECHER. per and attitude thoroughly alarmed the com- munity. " It was believed that he was betraying the country, and that all that had been gained by the war was about to be lost by the treachery of the President. The public mind was greatly in- flamed, and my Cleveland letter was received with violent protests. Many personal friends and members of Plymouth Church were greatly ex- ercised. To allay excitement by giving a fuller view of the ground of my first letter and to con- fute the idea that I had abandoned the Republi- can party I wrote the second letter, assuming the sam.e position, but with explanatory reasoning. " How far those letters contained sound views it is not for me to say. They were the best con- tribution that I could make toward the settlement of a great difficulty; to-day, after the lapse of eighteen years, I am unable to see how I could better them in spirit or in direction, either for that day or for the present time. '* Henry Ward Beecher. " Brooklyn, December, 1 884." The second letter is here reproduced, and after reading it and the one above, is there an American living who will not agree with Mr. Beecher, who in 1884 wrote concerning what he uttered in 1866, "I am unable to see how I could better them in spirit or n direction. HENRY WARD BEECHER. The following is the second letter : 366 Peekskill, Saturday, September, 1866. ''My dear Friend : 1 am obliged to you for your letter. I am sorry that my friends and my congregation are grieved by my Cleveland letter. "This feeling, however, has no just grounds, whatever may be the seeming. I have not left, and do not propose to leave, or to be put out of, the Republican party. I am in sympathy with its aims, its great principles, and its army of noble men. But I took the liberty of criticising its policy in a single respect, and to do what I could to secure what I believed, and still believe, to be a better one. " I am, and from the first have been, fully of opinion that the amendment oi the Constitution, proposed by Congress, equalizing representation in Northern and Southern States, was intrinsically just and reasonable, and that it should be sought by a wholesome and persistent moral agitation. "From the present condition of the public mind, and from the President's attitude, I deemed such a change to be practically impossible in any near period by political action. And a plan of reconstruction based upon that seems to me far more like a plan of adjourning reconstruction for years at least, with all the liabilities of mischief which aro always to be expected in the fluctua- tions of politics ri a free nation. "m. 366 HENRY WARD BEECHER. " It is not the North that chiefly needs the res- toration of government to its normal sphere and regular action. Either the advantages of Union are fallacious, or that continuous exclusion of the South from it will breed disorder, make the future reunion more difficult, and especially subject the freedmen to the very worst conditions of society which can well exist. No army, no government, and no earthly power can compel the South to treat four million men jusdy, if the inhabitants (whether rightly or wrongly) regard these men as the cause, or even the occasion, of their uiihappi- ness and disfranchisement. But no army or gov- ernment or power will be required when Southern society is restored, occupied, and prospering in the renewed Union. Then the negro will be felt to be a necessity to Southern industry, and interest will join with conscience and kindness in securing for him favorable treatment from his fellow-citizens. " We that live at a distance may think that the social reconstruction involved in the emancipation of four million slaves is as easy and simple as it is to discourse about it. But such a change is itself one of the most tremendous tests to which industry and society can be subjected, and to its favorable issue is required every advantage possible. The longer, therefore, the South is left in turmc",, the worse it will be for the negro. If there were no other reason ; if the white population were not our fellow-cicizens ; if we had lost all kindness and re- fi ilW.'fli HENRY WARD BEECHER. 367 gard for them and all pride for the Union, as in part represented by the Southern States, and con- fined our attention exclusively to the negro, the case would be strong beyond my power of expression for an early resumption of federal relations with all the States. If this is to disregard the negro, then all social and natural laws have been studied in vain. •' Neither am I a ' Johnson man ' in any received meaning of that term. I accept that part of the policy which he favors, but with modification. I have never thought that it would be wise to bring back all the States in a body, and at once, any more than it would be to keep them all out together. One b) one, in due succession, under a special judgment, rather than by a wholesa'j theoretic rule, I would have them readmitted. I still think a middle course between the President's and that of Congress would be wiser than either. But with this, my agreement with the President ends. I have long regretted his ignorance of Northern ideas and sentiments, and I have been astonished and pained at nis increasing indiscretions. Uncon- sciously the President is the chief obstacle to the readmission of the Southern States. It is enough that 'lie is known to favor a measure to set the public mind against it. This is to be deplored. But it is largely owing to his increasing imprudent conduct. I believe him to be honest, sincere in iesiring what he regards as the public good, but 368 HENRY WARD BEECHER. I slow and inapt in receiving help from other minds. Proud and sensitive, firm to obstinacy, resolute to fierceness, intelligent in his own sphere — which is r.arrow — he holds his opinions inflexibly. He often mistakes the intensity of his own convictions for strength of evidence. *' Such a man has a true sphere in periods of peril, when audacious firmness and rude vigor are needed. But in the delicate tasks of adjustment which follow civil war, such a nature lacks that tact and delicacy and moral intuition which con- stitute the true statesman. " Mr. Johnson's haste to take the wrong side at the atrocious massacre of New Orleans was shocking. The perversion and mutilation of Sheridan's despatches need no characterization. I do not attribute this act to him. Yet it was of such a criminal and disgraceful nature that not to clear himself of it by the exposure and rebuke of the offending party amounted to collusion with crime after the fact. What shall I say of the sp-^eches made in the wide, recent circuit of the Executive ? Are they the ways of reconcilia- tion ? " Yet Mr. Johnson is to be our President for nearly three years to come, clothed with a power which belongs to few thrones. Besides the honor which a people owe to him as the Chief Magistrate, we must, as Christian citizens, credit him with his real excellencies — his original horror of secession, H'fi HENRY WARD BEECHER. 369 his bold resistance to treachery, his persistent and self-denying heroism in the long, dark days of Tennessee. We must not forget that he has jeal- ously resisted a centralization of power in the Federal Government; that he has sought to dignify and secure true ' State rights ; ' that he has main- tained simplicity of manners and a true sympathy with the common people. It is our duty, likewise, to forestall and prevent, as much as possible, by kind but faithful criticism of his errors on the one hand, and by sympathy and kindness on the other, those dangers to which he is liable, under attacks which he is peculiarly unable to bear with calm- ness, and those dangers of evil counsellors which more and more gravitate toward him. So long as it was possible, I have been silent upon Mr. John- son's faults, and now speak so plainly, only lest I seem to approve or cloak them. "And now allow me to express some surprise at the turn which the public mind has taken on my letter. If I had never before spoken my senti- ments, I can see how friends might now misappre- hend my position. But for a year past I have been advocating the very principles of the Cleveland letter in all the chief Eastern cities — in Boston, Pordand, Springfield, Albany, Utica, Rochester, Buffalo, Philadelphia, Harrisburg, Pittsburgh, and Broc 'yn (at the Academy of Music, last winter). Thest views were reported, discussed, agreed to or differed from, praised and blamed abundantly. 370 HENRY WARD BEECHER. I I W But no one thought, or at least said, that I remem- ber, that I had forsaken the RepubHcan party or had turned my back upon the freedman. My re- cent letter but condenses those views which for twelve months I have been earnestly engaged in urging upon the attention of the community. I am not surprised that men dissent. But this sudden consternation and this late discovery of the nature of my opinions seem sufficiently sur- prising. I could not ask a better service than the reprinting of that sermon of last October, which first brought upon me the criticisms of the Trib- une and Independeiit. "I foresaw that, in the probable condition of parties and the country, we could not carry suf- frage for the freedman by immediate political action. When the ablest and most radical Con- gress of our history came together, they refused to give suffrage to negroes, even i'' .he District of Columbia : and only in an indirect way, not as a political right, but as the hoped-for result of political selfishness, did they provide for it by an amendment of the Constitution. What was prophecy with me, Congress has made history. Relinquishing political instruments for gaining the full enfranchisement of men, I instantly turned to moral means ; and, enunciating the broadest doctrine of manhood suffrage, I gave the widest latitude to that, advocating the rights of black and white, of men and women, to the vote. If HENRY WARD BEECH KR. 371 any man has labored more openly, on a broader principle, and with more assiduity, I do not know him. More ability may have been shown, but not more directness of purpose or undeviating consistency. ** I attribute the recent misunderstanding, in part, to the greater excitement which now exists, to the narrowing of the issues, and to the extreme exacerbation which Mr. Johnson's extraordinary and injudicious speeches have produced. To this may be added my known indisposition to join in criticism upon the President, and the fact that I urged a modified form of that policy which he, unfortunately for its success, holds. " Upon Mr. Johnson's accession I was su- premely impressed with the conviction that the whole problem of reconstruction would practi- cally pivot on the harmony of Mr. Johnson and Congress. With that we could have secured every guarantee and every amendment of the Constitution. Had a united government said to the South, promptly backed up as it would have been by the united North, 'With slavery we must take out of the Constitution whatever slavery put in, and put in whatever slavery for its own support left out,' there can scarcely be a doubt that long before this the question would have been settled, the basis of representation In the South conformed to that in the North, and the principle, the most fundamental and important 372 HENRY WARD BEF( HKR. of all, mitrht have been established in the Con- stitution, viz. : that manhood and full citizenship are identical. "Such great changes required two things, viz.: promptness and unity of counsels. To secure these I bent my whole strength. I urged the purgation of the Constitution. I reasoned against mutual distrust, and pleaded for unity of governmental action. I did all that I knew how to do to confirm the President in his war- begotten zeal against slavery; to prevent such suspicions and criminations as would tend to revive in his mind old prejudices, and bring on a relapse into his former hatred of Northern fanatics. I thought I understood his nature, and the extreme dangers, at such a critical time, of irritating a proud, sensitive and pugnacious man of Southern sympathies, little in sympathy with Northern feelings or ideas, and brought into the very leadership of those men and that train of principles which he had all his life hated and de- nounced. That he was sincere and tenacious would make the case all the more difficult. I thought I foresaw that a division between him and Congress would be the worst disaster that could befall us ; that the practical test of true statesmanship just then was not to be found in theories and philosophies, however sound, but in securing and confirming Mr. Johnson in his then disposition. HENRY WARD BEECHER, ^73 "Upon the asst^mbling of Congress I went to Washington. I fouiul Southern men lying pros- trate before Mr. Johnson, and appeaHng to his tender-heartedness — for he is a man of kind and tender heart — disarming 'his war rage by utter submission. " I found Northern men already uttering sus- picions of his fidelity, and. conscious of power, threatening impeachment. The men who seemed alive to this danger were, unfortunately, not those who had the management of affairs. Bad counsels prevailed. The North denounced and the South sued ; we see the consequences, *' Long after I despaired of seeing the Presi- dent and Congress harmonious, I felt it to be the duty of all good men to leave no influences un- tried to lessen the danger and to diminish the evils which are sure to come should the Presi- dent, rebounding from the Republicans, be caught by those Northern men who were in sympathy and counsel with the vSouth throughout the war. I shall not attempt to apportion blame where both sides erred. It is enough to say that unity secured at the seat of government would have been a noble achievement of leadership. "Deeming the speedy admission of the South- ern States as necessary to their own health, as indirectly the best policy for the freedmen, as peculiarly needful to the safety of our govern- ment, which, for the sake of accomplishing a good <> .0^, \% \*^ % % "a ^/,. ^*», // y IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) 1.0 14 5 IM 12.5 I.I m mil 2.2 m 2.0 1.25 'A nil 1.6 6" Photographic Sciences Corporation 23 V'^ST MAIN STREET WEBSTER, N.Y. 14580 (716) 872-4503 // / C/j iV ;V % C^\, •^J'* ^ % ^ n 374 HENRY WARD BEECHER. 1? i!i ' I'ii ,11 11': end, incautious men are in danger of perverting, I favored, and do still favor, the election to Con- gress of Republicans who will seek the early ad- mission of the recusant States. Having urged it for a year past, I was more than ready to urge it again upon the representatives to Congress this fall. In this spirit and for this end I drew up my Cleveland letter. I deem its views sound ; I am not sorry that I wrote it. I regret the mis- apprehension which it has caused, and yet more any sorrow which it may have needlessly im- posed upon dear friends. As I look back upon my course, I see no deviation from the straight line which I have made, without wavering, for now thirty .years, in favor of justice, liberty, and the elevation of the poor and ignorant. "The attempt to class me with men whose course I have opposed all my life long will utterly fail. I shall choose my own place, and shall not be moved from it. I have been from my youth a firm, unwavering, avowed, and active friend of all that were oppressed. I have done nothing to forfeit that good name which I have earned. I am not going weakly to turn away from my settled convictions of the public weal for fear that bad men may praise me or good men blame. There is a serious difference of judgment be- tween men as to the best policy. We must all remit to the future the decision of the question. Facts will soon judge us. ikfeNRY WAkD REfeCHEk. 376 "I feel now profoundly how imperfect my ser- vices have been to my country, compared with its desert of noble services. But I am conscious that I have given all that I had to give, without fear or favor. Above all earthly things Is my country dear to me. The lips that taught me to say ' Our Father ' taught me to say ' Fatherland.' 1 have aimed to conceive of that land in the light of Christianity. God is my witness, that with singleness of heart 1 have given all my time, strength, and service to that which shall make our whole nation truly prosperous and glorious. Not by the lustre of arms, even in a just cause, would I seek her glory, but by a civilization that should carry its blessings down to the lowest classes, and nourish the very roots of society by her moral power and purity, by her public con- science, her political justice, and by her intelligent homes filling up a continent, and rearing a vir- tuous and nobler citizenship. " By night and by day this is the vision and dream of my life, and inspires me as no personal ambition ever could. I am not discouraged at the failure to do the good I meant, at the misap- prehension of my course by my church, nor the seventy of former friends. Just now those angry voices come to me as rude winds roar through the trees. The winds will die, the trees will live. As soon as my health is again restored, I shall g^ right on in the very course I have hitherto pur- 23 '3 1 376 HENRY WARD BEECHER. sued. Who will follow or ixccompany, it is for others to decide. I shall labor for the education of the whole people; for the enfranchisement of men without regard to class, caste, or color ; for full development among all nations of the liberty wherewith Christ makes men free. In doing this I will cheerfully work with others, with parties, any and all men that seek the same glorious end. But I will not become a partisan. I will reserve my right to differ and dissent, and respect the same right in others. Seeking others' full man- hood and true personal liberty, I do not mean to forfeit my own. " Better days are coming. These throes of our day are labor-pains. God will bring forth ere long great blessings. In some moments which it pleases God to give me, I think I discern beyond the present troubles, and over the other side of the abyss in which the nation wallows, that fair form of liberty — God's dear child — whose whole beauty was never yet disclosed. I know her solemn face. That she is divine, I know by her purity, by her sceptre of justice, and by that atmosphere of love that, issuing from her, as light from a star, moves with her, as a royal atmosphere. In this, too, I know her divinity, that she shall bless both friends and enemies, and yield the fullest fruition of liberty to those who would have slain her, as once her Master gave His life for the salvation of those who slew Mim. •' I am your true friend and pastor, " H. W. B." L HENRY WARD BEECHER. 377 But we deal with the then rather than the now ; the then was very hot. The second letter was read to the great congregation assembled in Ply- mouth Church, but the people who heard it were not satisfied, and the grumblings, the discontent- ments gradually spread through the community, and outside critics rejoiced to say that the influ- ence of Mr. Beecher and of Plymouth Church were seriously impaired and could never be re- stored. "Well," said the tired dominie, throwing himself upon a friendly lounge, *' Let them say what they will about me; but when they speak of the influence of Plymouth Church as being impaired and as dying out they count without their reck- oning. A mountain must necessarily cast a larger shadow than a mole-hill." A meeting was called in the Academy of Music, where it was expected and believed that Mr. Beecher would publicly recant and retract the sentiments of his letters. The house was packed and thousands went away unable to gain admission. Upon the platform sat noted men, and all through the auditorium were men and women known in every circle of Brooklyn's church and social life. Mr. Beecher was received decorously but without enthusiasm, and he read a carefully prepared review of the situation, which gave the impression to the public mind that he was rather sorry he had taken the step he had. He knew better ; his intimates knew better ; but l! 378 h.:nry ward beecher. it was unquestionably an unfortunate yielding to the urgent desire of over-anxious friends that in- duced Mr. Beecher to say one word of explana- tion. It always rankled in his breast ; he knew he was light, and his only possible explanation at this date oi his action at that time is his extreme disgust and disappointment at the conduct of Andrew Johnson. Precisely how to reconcile Mr. Beecher's utterances, his reiteiation, with the almost universal belief of his retraction it is dif- ficult to say. He says, " In this spirit and for this end I drew up my Cleveland letter. I deem its views sound ; I am not sorry that I wrote it. As I look back upon my course, I see no deviation from the straight line which I have made, without wavering, for now thirty years in public life, in favor of justice, liberty and the elevation of the poor and ignorant." Perhaps his explanation may be found in this sentence : " I regret the misapprehension which it has caused, and yet more any sorrow which it may have needlessly imposed upon dear friends.' , iiiii VIII. HIS LITERARY LIFE. THE Cleveland Letters, as they are called, made a great sensation all over the coun- try. Plymouth Church people were assured on every hand that they were finally and forever ex- tinguished, that their influence and that of their pastor was nil. The Independent, then considered " Mr. Beecher's paper," came out in a most abu- sive editorial, charging Mr. Beecherwith being "as much an enemy of his country as was Vallandig- ham the traitor." The article was from the pen of Theodore Tilton. To be called a " traitor " was more than even Mr. Beecher's great loving heart could pass over. For several weeks after this outburst the weekly sermon was omitted from the columns of the Independent, and Mr. Beecher then gave notice (according to contract) that at the expiration of three months he should withhold all further com- munication with the paper. To a personal friend he said, " I am about tired of helping to shape a club that is used for the purpose of dashing out (379) 380 HENRY WARD liEECHER. my own brains." No notice was taken at first of his intended withdrawal, but as the time drew near every effort was made by the proprietor and editor of the Independent to induce Mr. Beecher to .econsider his determination. In vain. Never was a man more firm when a certain point was reached, although seemingly, so often and so easily persuaded, and so forgiving to those who had injured him. Just at this time a proposition was made to him to become the editor of a new paper to be called The Christian Union, whose main feature was to be the drawing together of all Christians, irre- spective of creeds, by the absence of all unkindly criticism, and melting minor differences in the atmosphere of love. He consented to take the position, and then and thus was planted a little seed of envy and discord in the hearts of his old associates, that was destined to swell -and bring forth bitter fruits in after days. This would seem to be an appropriate place to ' consider, irrespective of chronologic sequence. Mr. Beecher's marvellous industry as a writer. It is interesting to note with what different em- phasis Mr. Beecher's character and efforts strike differing minds. To one he was simply a great orator, to another a great preacher; some con- sidered his acdng qualities as the chief gift with which he was endowed. Many of his people pre- ferred to hear him pray, and his prayers were n HENRY WARD BEECHER. 381 unquestionably a revelation. He was not an editor in any true acceptation of that much abused term, but he was a marvellous writer; his mind was stored with the fulness of riches along so many lines. His published works on flowers and trees, and horses, anJ. theologies, his lectures to young men, his talks with students, his marvellous descriptive powers of all that is in the air above or in the waters that belt the world, show how each in its turn opened a wide-horizoned plane of obser- vation on which this many-sided man exploited and succeeded. In the West he was for a while acting editor of the Cincinnati yournal and of the agricultural paper, the Western Farmer, to which allusion has heretofore been made; and earlier than that even, when his venerable father was on trial for heresy in the West, young Beecher reported for the New York Observer the daily proceedings of the august body in whose presence his father was arraigned. He contributed also to the Boston Recorder, and then, after brief service under Joseph P. Thomp- son, Leonard Bacon and R. S. Storrs, he for a while acted as editor of the Independent, but pre- ferring to be responsible for his own utterances alone, he subsequently chose the wiser course and, over the signature of a star, wrote weekly articles for that paper. The feeling engendered by his Cleveland letters led, as reco«*ded, to his depart- ure front the Independent, SiitQY contributions for a ll 382 HENRY WARD BEECHER. M 'SW il m series of years of such force and vitality as to make its name a household word at the North, where its power for good was unmeasurable, and at the South, where it was hated at the leader of a fast-growing anti-slavery sentiment. These *' Star Papers," some of which were sub- sequently published in a series of volumes, show the man's love of nature, almost as clearly as they disclose his love for his fellow-man. In them he discourses on flowers, on death, on New England graveyards, on towns and trees. Vividly he por- trayed the contrast between inland and sea-shore, lovingly recalled the first breath in the country, facetiously described his experience while whip- ping a mountain stream for trout, and, as one finds in a kaleidoscope an ever-changing picture, so may one find in these books a ceaseless round of ever- varying experiences, stirred always by the one thought, love to God and love to man. Even then, thirty odd years ago, when a dollar was worth one hundred cents, and fortunes were not so readily picked up as they have been in later years, there was a feeling existing between the rich and the poor. The tendency even of those times was to make the rich richer and the poor poorer, and envy made critics censorious. Mr. Beecher was then as fond of pictures on canvas as he was in later years. He was not so well-in- formed, because he was younger and all his life he was a student, but he knew the value of beauty. Bl I HENRY WARD BEECHER. 383 he appreciated the helpfuhiess of art. He under- stood the power of wealth, and, bringing an intel- ligent mind to bear upon art and wealth and beauty, he contended that all that was good and pure, and beautiful, and great should be brought to the service of God, in helpfulness to God's creatures; and at a time when there was much caustic and absurd criticism in the religious press against the expenditure of money for selfish grati- fication, he wrote an article which went quite the world around, on " Christian Liberty in the Use of the Beautiful," a portion of which is here re- produced. " In an age when men more and more feel the duty of employing their strength and their wealth for the education of their fellows, it becomes a question of supreme moment, to what extent a Christian man may surround himself with embel- lishments and luxuries of beauty. "There be many who would walk through a noble gallery of paintings with an accusing con- science, repeating to themselves, with poignant sincerity, the hollow words of the old traitor, when the alabaster box of precious ointment was poured upon his Master's head, ' To what purpose is this waste? Why was it not sold for three hundred pence, and given to the poor ? ' " Nor is the self-accusation lessened when one perceives that elegance and luxury are most often employed as a shining barrier, built up between 384 HENRY WARD BEECHER. the cultured and the vulgar, the barrier around a class more impenetrable than the conventional distinctions of artificial nobility. For no cus- toms of law or usage have such force as those which spring from the soul's own living con- sciousness of difference and superiority. Many earnest men, therefore, have associated embel- lishments with selfishness, and forswear them as a part of their fealty to benevolence. " It seems to me that God has ordained a use- fulness of the beautiful, as much as of knowledge, of skill, of labor and of benevolence. It was meant to be not alone a cause of enjoyment, but a positive means of education. Is wealth allow- able, if one will employ it benevolently ? Is phi- losophy allowable, if one will apply it to the uses of men ? Is scholarship virtuous, if it be a treas- ure held in trust for all kinds of ignorance ? Is skill praiseworthy, if employed to promote the human weal ? And why is not the possession of architectural beauty, of art-treasures, of landscape beauty, the beauty of grounds and gardens, of homes and furniture, if they are held conscien- tiously amenable to the law of usefulness? " Society grows, as trees do, by rings. These are innumerable circles formed, with mutual at- tractions. The lowest section feels and emulates that which is next above ; that circle is aspiring to the level next above it. This one in its turn is attracted by one yet higher ; and that by an- HENRY WARD IJEKCMER. 386 Other. There are some influences to be sure that are general, and that strike right through ■ from top to bottom of Hfe. And there are many special inlluences which, Hke comets, come unex- pectedly, blazing along their orbits with stream- ing influences, long-trailed. But there are certain organic conditions of life founded upon grada- tions of mind-power, or of development. " The ditcher aspires to the position of a hus' bandman ; the apprentice emulates the prosper- ous master-mechanic ; the mechanic looks up to those whose wealth is allied to education ; the plainly-bred citizen aspires to the mental activity of professional men and scholars ; and these, in turn, acknowledge gradations among themselves to the very top of genius ; and all men are reach- ing after some ideal, or some example that hangs above them. So that, when a man has no longer any conception of excellence above his own, his voyage is done, he is dead — dead in trespasses and sins of blear-eyed vanity ! "We cannot always tell the exact gradations, nor mark off the sections like inches on a rule. Society is so vast a thing, that its growths are like the luxurious upsproutings of a tropical for- est, choked with abundance, forcing up its vines and plants and trees, in sinuous interlacings that quite bewilder the eye that would trace the out- ward form, or the research that would follow the flow of sap from rootlet to topmost leaf. Yet, we PT^WWHI 386 HENRY WARD BEECHER. know that it is in society as it is in vegetation. It is not the sun upon the root that begins growtli in a tree, but the sun upon its top. The outer- most wood awakes and draws upon that below it, and sends progressing activity down to its root. Then begins a double circulation. The root sends up its crude rap, the leaf prepares it with all vegetative treasures, and back it goes on a mission of distribution to every part, to the out- most root. And thus, with striking analogy, is it in society. The great mass are producing gross material that rises up to refinemenv and power, that, in turn, sends back the influence of refine- ment and power upon all the successive degrees, to the bottom ! " It is in this point oi view that the very highest forms of literary and scientific institutions are to be judged and justified. "An astronomical observatory may seem to have no relation to the welfare of a community. What have eclipses and planetary transits to do with human life ? When the invisible paths of all stars are traced by mathematical faith, what have parallaxes and multitudinous calculations to do with men's ordinary business? But experience will, in a generation, show, that those who first feel the fruits and elevation of such pursuits will be few ; but they will become broader, deeper and better. Through them, but diluted and not recognized, the next class below will be influenced HENRY WARD r.EECHER. n87 — not by astronomy, but by the moral power of men who have been elevat'^d by astronomy. Every part of society is affected when men are built up. They impart their own growth to what- ever they touch. Enlarg-e men and you enlarge everything. " There be some who rail at universities as too remote from practical life and living wants, and who propose colleges to teach men their very trades and professions. But these subordinate colleges will depend upon the superior influences of institutions above them that are the standards — the chronometers of learninof. There never can be too many libraries, too many cabinets, too many galleries of art, too many literary men, too much culture. The power of mind at the top of society will determine the ease and rapidity of the ascent of the bottom, just as the power of the engine at the top of the inclined plane will deter- mine the length of the train that can be drawn up and the rapidity of its ascent. "This marks the distinction between natural and artificial nobility. All societies have nobles. We have a nobility as really as do monarchies. But in England it is an order separated from those below ; and there is no free circulation. No one can rise into it by force of moral excellence and culture, though he may be really equal to its mem- bers. Artificial aristocracy stands looking down upon the mass of men, as did Father Abraham, fi88 HENRY WARD BEECHER. saying : ' Between us and you there is a jreat gulf fixed, so that they which would pass hence to you cannot ; neither can they pass to us that would come from thence.' "Natural aristocracy is the eminence of men- over thtlr fellows, in real mind and soul. They are above men because they are wiser and better; and any one may join them whenever he is as wise and as good. They are above society, not to spread their roots in the great democracy and sustain the glory of the field by filching out its strength, but rather, as clouds are above the earth, to open their bosoms and cast down fertiliz- ing rains, that all the earth and every living thing may rejoice. " It is upon this great principle that men may become the benefactors of their race by the in- dulgence of beauty and embellishments, if they be employed generously and public-spiritedly. Every mansion that enlarges men's conceptions of convenience, of comfort, of substantialness and permanence, or of beauty, is an institution. " It may have been selfishness that built it; ex- travagance may have been the ruling spirit. The owner may have been some imbecile for whose vanity some noble architect wrought ; the com- pleted work may leave the luckless owner bank- rupt, and all may deride the folly of costly buildings and expensive grounds ; every reproach may fall upon his empty head most righteously; HENRY WARD BEECHER. 380 yet his folly may have done more for the village than the wisdom of all the rest ! " The work is done. What that stately mansion is, it is in itself. It stands through generations a form of beauty lifted up. When its owner's his- tory is a legend, its lines will stand unbroken, its shadows will be as fresh as on the day when they first fell tremblirg from the glances of the sun. The old trees will outlive generations of men. They will proclaim the glory of God to the eye by day, and awake at midnight, in the summer winds, to sing their solemn song of praise ! " But how much more will all this be if such a structure is in due proportion to its builder's means ; if it be no creature of his vanity, but born legidmately of his sense of grandeur and beauty; if it be the magazine, too, of his benefi- cence, so that out of it shall issue all gentleness, all due humility, all neighborly love, all grace and purity of life, and, effluent as the golden airs of summer days, charities and public bounties, en- riching the wide circle about and making angels stoop to kiss with reverent love the noble brow that lived in such joy of beauty as this ! " It is wealth selfishly kept or spent that is mean. It is architecture that shuts a man's heart in from his fellows that is mean ; that stands with effron- tery, saying to all who pass, ' Come and worship me!' It is selfishness, in short, under whatever form of knowledge, refinement, power, wealth, or beauty, that curses man, and is itself accursed. 3^0 HENRY WARD BEECHER. " The question is not, what proportion of his wealth a Christian man may divert from benevo- lent channels for personal enjoyment through the element of the beautiful. For, if rightly viewed, and rightly used, his very elegances and luxuries will be a contribution to the public good. One may well say, ' How can I indulge in such embel- lishments in my dwelling, when so many thousands are perishing for lack of knowledge about me?' This is conclusive against a selfish use of the beautifux. But rightly employed, it becomes itself a contribution to the education of society. It acts upon the lower classes by acting first upon the higher. It is an education of the educators. And the question becomes only this, How much of my wealth given to the public good shall be employed directly for the elevation of the ignorant, and how much indirectly ? How much shall I bring to bear directly upon the masses, and how much indirectly through institutions and remote instrumentalities? "I cannot but think that Christian men have not only a right of enjoyment in the beautiful, but a duty, in some measure, of producing it or prop- agating it, or diffusing it abroad through the com- munity. " Some may build their work in words, and live in literature. Some may shape their sense into sound, and live in the world's song. Some may insphere themselves in art, and transmit the statue, the canvas, or the stately pile. Some m^y HENRY WARD BEECHER. 391 id live |e into may it the |e m^y contribute to this realm of beauty in that only de- partment in which America has an original archi- tecture, with native lines of beauty, expressed in those storm-driven temples of the deep. "And if there are aspiring natures that wistfully ask, with empty hands, what may we with our poverty do to embellish the earth ? to them I say. When all the works of man are ended, he has not approached the inexpressible beauty of God's architecture. "Those stately elms, that teach us every winter how meekly to lay our glories by, and receive the reverses of inevitable misfortune, and that soon will teach us to look forth out of all misfortunes, and clothe ourselves afresh after every winter — what have ye that may compare with them ? The cathedrals of the world are not traced as these, nor so adorned, nor so full of communion, nor have they pliant boughs on which with humble might they swing the peaceful singing-bird, and from whose swaying, night or day, there is music in the air for them that know the sound ! Of all man's works of art, a cathedral is greatest. A tree is greater than that ! Of all man's instru- ments of sound, an organ, uttering its mazy har- monies through the sombre arches of the rever- end pile, is the grandest ; but the sound of summer in the forest is grander than that ! And, if we wander out from the arid city till we come to these crowned monarchs of the fields, we need 24 392 HENRY WARD BEECHER. not be ashamed to stand with lifted hands and bless our God for a gift of beauty greater than any man may build ! "It is, then, here that every one may yield to life some embellishment. To the home of your youth you may return with gathered wealth to replant it with flowers. Your native village you may embosom in wfjll-selected forests. The trav- eller may, in another generation, journey along our roads, overarched with elms or shaded with stately oaks. "Your villages may grow lovely in a Thousand features now unknown. Every yard and garden may be a paradise. The church, no longer gaunt, shattered, and decaying, may, by the loving hands of those whose boyhood was nurtured there, rise in renewed beauty. Or, if its hereditary ailments or proportions defy remedy, from your zeal may spring another structure, harmonious in every proportion, a joy to the eye, signalling the distant traveller with its spire, its solemn bell, through all the hours of day and night, ringing out the sound of our footsteps toward eternity ! " The old graveyard, that shame of many vil- lages, where death and weeds reign triumphant over the forgotten graves of parents and dear hearts, hath thy hand no bounty wherewith to yield to it a reverend beauty? " Shall the old school-house stand longer mounted in the eye of the summer sun, the very HENRY WARD REECHER. 393 target of the winter wind, treeless, bare, filthy ? By thy bounteous hand let it be cleansed by fire, and ft"om its ashes bid arise a phoenix that shall be just what, for the most part, school-houses are not. " But in all your hopes for the beautiful, re- member that its mission is not of corruption, nor of pride, nor of selfishness, but of benevolence ! And as God hath created beauty not for a few, but hath furnished it for the whole earth, multi- plying it until, like drops of water and particles of air, it abounds for every living thing, and in a measure far transcending human want, so let thine heart understand the glory of God's beauty and the generosity of its distribution. So living, life shall be a glory, and death a passing from glory to glory." About the time he left xh^ Independent, and prior to the starting of the Christian Union, Mr. Beecher was asked by Robert Bonner, proprietor of the New York Ledger, to write for him a serial story. " He had never done such a thing and doubted his ability, but Mr. Bonner knew him better than he knew himself, and urged him with great per- sistency. Mr. Beecher put him off and off, but finally Mr. Bonner, with rare sagacity, induced the hesitant, who had already been writing for the columns of the Ledger several years, to ac- cept the then marvellous offer of ^25,000 for a story which should, after use as a serial, make a ■ Is ll 394 HENRY WARD BEECHER. book of 500 or 600 pages. Facetiously enough Mr. Beecher thus tells the story of his yielding to temptation. " Before the Civil War I had for several years been a regular contributor to the New York Ledger. During that great conflict I had almost entirely ceased writing for it. But when the war was closed, I was not unwilling to seek rest or relaxation from the exhausting excitement of public affairs, by turning my mind into entirely new channels of thought and interest. "In this mood I received Mr. Bonner's pro- posal to write a story for the Ledger. Had it been a request to carve a statue or build a man- of-war, the task would hardly have seemed less likely of accomplishment. A very moderate reader, even, of fictions, I had never studied the mystery of their construction. Plot and counter- plot, the due proportion of parts, the whole ma- chinery of a novel, seemed hopelessly outside of my studies. But after-considerations came to my relief. I reflected that any real human ex- perience was intrinsically interesting; that the life of a humble family for a single day, even if not told as skilfully as Wordsworth sung the hum- ble aspects of the natural world, or as minutely faithful as Crabbe depicted English village-life, could hardly fail to win some interest. The habit of looking upon men as the children of God, and heirs of immortality, can hardly fail to clothe the I* HENRY WARD BEECHER. 396 simplest and most common elements of daily life with importance and even with dignity. Nothing is trivial in the education of the King's son ! " By interesting my readers, if I could, in the ordinary experiences of daily life among the com- mon people, not so much by dramatic skill as by a subtle sympathy with nature, and by a certain largeness of moral feeling, I hoped to inspire a pleasure which, if it did not rise very high, might, on that account, perhaps, continue the longer. I had rather know that one returned again and again to parts of this most leisurely narrative, than that he devoured it all in a single passionate hour, and then turned away from it sated and for- getful. "I can only wish that all who use the pen might fall into hands as kind, as considerate, and as forbearing, as I have. * Norwood ' was mostly written in Peekskill. There is not a single unpleasant memory connected with it. It was a summer-child, brought up among flowers and trees. "When the last sheet of the manuscript of ' Norwood ' was read for the press, I sent the fol- lowing letter with it : " 'My dear Mr. Bonner: You have herewith the last line of " Norwood." I began it reluctantly, as one who treads an unexplored path. But as I went on I took more kindly to my work, and now that it is ended I shall quite miss my weekly task. 396 HENRY W. RD BEECHER. " • My dear old father, after his day of labor had closed, used to fancy thr.t in some way he was so connected with me that he was still at work ; and on one occasion, after a Sabbath-morning service, some one in a congratulatory way said to the venerable and meek old patriarch : « « i< Well, Doctor, how did you like your son's sermon ? " " ' " It was good — good as I could do myself." And then, with an emphatic pointing of his fore- finger, he added, '• If it hadn't been for me, you'd never have had him ! " •"If anybody likes "Norwood," my dear and venerable Mr. Bonner, you can poke him with your finger and say, "If it hadn't been for me, you would never have had it." ' " Connected with this story of " Norwood," a charming country idyl, by the way, was an inter- esting development along a line which in later years perhaps would have made less talk. Mr. Augustin Daly, a successful New York manager and dramatist, conceived the idea of dramatizing the book, and between him, Mr. Beecher and Mr. Bonner a correspondence took place which will interest the friends of Mr. Beecher as well as the theatrical world in general. "New York, July 3, 1867. " Henry Ward Beecher : *^Dear Sir: I have been so much impressed HENRY WARD BEECHER. 397 with the remarkable faithfulness to the calm poetry of New England life which emphasizes your story of ' Norwood,' that I feel a great desire to represent, as far as the dramatic art may help me to do so, some of the pictures that you have created. I have spoken with Mr. Joseph Howard, Jr., of this desire, and he feels confident that you will not withhold your consent. I shall liberally avail myself of Mr. Howard's intimate knowledge of your tastes to produce a faithful reflection of your beautiful story, that we may teach to that great audience which reads only with its ears the royal truths that you have uttered through the entertaining personages of ' Norwood.' Where the work is done in the proper spirit, the drama- tist must always assist the moralist rather than otherwise ; and that which is strongly good and really pure — as the lessons of ' Norwood' certainly are — must always exert an elevating influence, whether given forth from the newspapers or the stage. Very respectfully, *' AuGUSTiN Daly." "Peekskill, July 9, 1867. •' Mr. Augustin Daly, New York : *'My dear Sir : It is not possible for me to do more in the circumstances in which I am placed than simply to say that I shall interpose no objec- tion to the dramatization of 'Norwood' by you. No one can well be more ignorant than I am of I if 398 HENRY WARD BEECHER. dramatic matters, and my judgment would be valueless. The copyright is not mine, but Mr. Bonner's, and he is really the party who has the power of giving an affirmative and positive an- swer. You may say to him that I shall defer to his judgment wholly in the matter, and that from the representations made by Mr. Howard and other sources, I have every reason to think that in your hands the dramatization of 'Norwood' will be most satisfactorily accomplished. *' I am much obliged to you for the good opinion which you express upon * Norwood,' and I remain very truly yours, "H. W. Beecher." •' Mr. Robert Bonner : '*My dear Sir: I enclose you copies of a cor- respondence between Mr. Beecher and myself in relation to the dramatization of ' Norwood." From this you will become acquainted with the request I wish to make on my own behalf and that of Mr. Joseph Howard, Jr. The dramatiza- tion of * Norwood ' is an ambition I should like to fulfil ; and if I may commence at the pleasant labor, I shall do my best to give a result as worthy Mr. Beecher's creation as it may be a gratifica- tion of your permission. The characters and the scenes of ' Norwood' have been made as familiar as home acquaintances ant! home itself to many millions through the columns of the Ledger, but HENRY WARD HEKCHER. 399 I trust that you will be of my opinion that it will do no harm, and may result in much good, if we extend the introduction through the aid of that dramatic art which I desire to involve. •'Very truly yours, '•AuGusTiN Daly." tS!tt " Ledger Office, No. 90 Beekman Street, •'New York, July 11, 1867. "Mr. Daly: "■Dear Sir: You have my consent to drama- tize 'Norwood.' When Mr. Joseph Howard, Jr., spoke to me on the subject a few weeks ago, I informed him that I should take pleasure in let- ting him have the advance slips of the concluding numbers, so that you could have a decided advan- tage over any party who might undertake to dram- atize the story. When the proper time arrives, if you will remind me of my promise, I shall, of course, let you have the slips. " Yours, etc., "Robert Bonner." In these days it would be difificult to understand the storm of indignation and hurricane of pious protest that followed the publication of this cor- respondence. In Plymouth prayer-meeting a much esteemed member, and later one of Mr. Beecher's most steadfast adherents and most helpful friends, called the pastor to public account, saying that he 400 HENRY WARD BE£CHER. was amazed to hear that the pastor of Plymouth Church had consented to the dramatization of his story and to its being placed upon the boards of a theatre, and asked if the report was crue. Mr. Beecher very quiedy said, " You have heard correctly." Whereupon, from one point and another in the crowded assemblage, chagrined and grieving brethren rose to remonstrate. Others, more sen- sible, took the ground that inasmuch as the theatre was an established institution, and the people would go, it v/as desirable that the best efforts and the wisest teaching should be pre- pared and furnished for their delectation and gratification, rather than that panderings to their unwise taste should be placed at their service. All this produced no effect. Mr. Daly .nade the dramatization, and " Norwood" was produced in a theatre on Broadway immediately opposite the New York Hotel, into whi h Mr. Dalv had moved after the burning of his Fifth Avenue Theatre. The theatre was in a building owned by A. T. Stewart, and had formerly been a church in which the Rev. Dr. Osgood, a Unitarian minis- ter of much intellectual force, had preached for many years. After Daly left, various managers occupied it. It was then turned into a much larger theatre and occupied by Harrigan and Hart. During their tenancy it was burned to the ground, and in its place was erected a quaint HENRY WARD BEECHER. 401 rned irch for rers luch and Id to laint structure now occupied by the "Old London Street." Mr. Beech'er never saw the play of *' Norwood " on the boards, but it was read very carefully to him, and he said he saw nothing objectionable about it whatever, and sincerely trusted it would make a success for the dramatist's sake. Mr. Daly expended a great deal of money on it, and pro- cured the services of the best actors he could find ; but, as he subsequently said, the country was hardly yet prepared for a war play. The general upheaval had not subsided ; passion was not yet gone ; bereavements and losses were yet too sacred, and after a brief season the play was withdrawn. But there was worse to come. One of the original minstrel companies was known by the name of Christy, the chief humorist of which was a man named George Harrington, who went, however, by the name of George Christy. In Mr. Beecher's early days here Christy's minstrels were an institution, and many a hearty laugh and many a restful hour did the great preaclier find in listening to the sweet har- monies of that unequalled organization. As years rolled on George Christy sank little by little until he became a wandering actor, in whom Richard M. Hooley, who was manager Oi" a theatre in Brooklyn, took an interest, and at Mr. Hooley's suggestion Mr. Joseph Howard, Jr., wrote a bur- lesque on Daly's play of " Norwood," the chief 402 HENRY WARD BEECHER. part being written up for and assigned to George Christy. It was brought out in Hooley's Opera House in Brooklyn in December, 1867, and for a month packed the house with roaring and much- laughing audiences. Such an incident to-day would attract no offen- sive attention whatever. In fact, the play of " Norwood," if rewritten by Mr. Daly and brought out in his New York theatre with a competent cast, would unquestionably jump into great pop- ularity, and the man doesn't live, were he the dearest friend Mr. Beecher ever had, were he the most reverent regarder of his great memory, who would take the faintest exception to it. After " Norwood " was done, uniting with the firm of J. B. Ford & Co., Mr. Beecher purchased a little paper called the Church Union and changed its name to Christian Union, with which he re- tained connection for several years, and from which his exit was generally believed to be a step in the interest of others rather than his own. A queer idea ! Not at all. It was ever thus. He collated the sacred songs that made his hymn-books — others reaped the reward. He delivered sermons to the people — others published them and made fortunes from them. Book after book, giving his very life- thoughts, found their way into the liter- ary current — for the benefit of others. All his life long Henry Ward Beecher devoted thought ions lade his Jiter- ll bis H ht ■■.! 1 HENRY WARD 'BEECHER, 405 and industry and patience and good-nature and knowledge and power to the pecuniary benefit of other people. It will not be doubted, it cannot be denied, that his name was the tower of strength from which flaunted the fortunate flag of the Independent. Did he own it ? Did he own any part of it ? Did his wife and children inherit one dollar's in- terest in the Independent? And what there was of the Christimt Union, what good was it to him ? Did he continue its editor ? For a while he and his brothers and his sisters were weekly contributors. Almost in the twinkling of an eye that was changed, and he and his brothers and hie sisters were conspicuous by their absence from the columns of the paper which, without his name, would never have been heard of. Down to this time he had published ten vol- umes of sermons of 475 pages each; four volumes of sermons of 600 pages each ; a book entitled "A Summer Parish," of 240 pages ; " Lectures to Young Men," 500 pages; 600 pages of "Star Papers;" 498 pages of "Talk about Fruits, Flowers and Farming;" "Lecture-Room Talks," 384 pages ; " Norwood; or Village Life in New England," 549 pages ; the " Overture of Angels ; " " Eyes and Ears; or Thoughts as They Occur ; " " Freedom and War ; " " Royal Truths ; " " Foun- dation and Experiences of Religious Subjects ; " 406 HENRY WARD BEECHER. and all this in arlciition to his writings — volumes beyond description — on agriculture, politics and general subjects, added to his routine work of preaching twice on Sunday and a monologue, as it were, at his Friday night prayer-meetings, and his special trips for lecturing before literary so- cieties or speaking before miscellaneous au- diences. Was there ever a busier man than he, who, in addition to all this, being greatly interested in church music and more especially in the form of congregational singing, compiled books of hymns and tunes for the use of his own and sister churches? For obvious reasons Mr. Beecher's "Life of Jesus the Christ" deserves more than a men- tion in the list of his writings. During many years he had loved, believed in and taught his people concerning Jesus Christ, in whom all the vitality of his faith appeared to centre. To him Christ was everything, and he cared to know no more. His brother clergymen and his own people often asked him to explain his views of Christ. He resolved to put himself on record, and to write a book that would inspire a deeper interest in the life and sympathies of his Master. Writ- ing himself about it, Mr. Beecher said : " I have undertaken to write a life of Jesus the Christ in the hope of inspiring a deeper interest HENRY WARD BEECH ER. 407 id to in the noble personage, of whom those matchless histories, the Gospels of Matthew. Mark, Luke and John, are the chief authentic memorials. I have endeavored to present scenes that occurred two thousand years ago as they would appear to modern eyes if the events had taken place in our day. . . . Writing in full sympathy with the Gos- pels, as authentic historical documents, and with the nature and teachings of the great personage whom they describe, I have not invented a Life of Jesus to suit the critical philosophy of the nine- teenth century. The Jesus of the four evangelists for well nigh two thousand years has exerted a powerful influence upon the heart, the under- standing, and the imagination of mankind. It is that Jesus, and not a modern substitute, whom I have sought to depict, in his life, his social rela- tions, his disposition, his deeds and doctrines." In the latter part of 1872, Ford & Co. issued the first volume — first paying Mr. Beecher ^10,000 for the completed work yet to be written — and it was at once hailed with enthusiasm by eminent men the world around. Dr. Storrs, of the Church of the Pilgrims, Brooklyn, pronounced it " The book which the masses of the Christian world have been waiting for." The religious press, without exception, accorded it a respectful wel- come, and scholars and the clergy vied with each other in its praise. A well-known English critic said that Beecher's '* Life of Christ " would be I 408 HENRY WARD BEECHER. welcome to Christians, inquirers, sceptics, infidels, teachers, Bible-classes, home circles, and intelli- gent readers of every name. That Mr. Beecher had put his best work in the first volume of the work was evident to any critical reader, and the publishers gave it a frame worthy of the picture. Agents sold the book faster than it could be fur- nished, and that Mr. Beecher would make a for- tune, as well as fame, was a moral certainty. In a portion of the " Life of Christ " Mr. Beecher shows himself so clearly — poet, son, worshipper, historian. No wonder that the Hebrews of the world claim a right in Henry Ward Beecher ! No wonder that among the choicest tributes to his memory were those paid by the devout Jews of this country and those of the old world. Take this passage : •* It is difficult to speak of Mary the mother of Jesus, both because so little is known of her and because so much has been imagined. Around no other name in history has the imagination thrown its witching light in so great a volume. In art she has divided honors with her divine Son. For a thousand years her name has excited the pro- foundest reverer..:e and worship. A mother's love and forbearance with her children, as it is a uni- versal experience, so is it the nearest image of the divine tenderness which the soul can form. " In attempting to present the Divine Being in His relations to universal government, men have HENRY WARD BEECHER. 409 well nigh lost His personality in a sublime ab- straction. Those traits of personal tenderness and generous love which alone will ever draw the human heart to God, it has too often been obliged to seek elsewhere. And however mistaken the endeavor to find in the Virgin Mary the sympathy and fond familiarity of a divine fostering love, it is an error into which men have been drawn by the profoundest needs of the human soul. It is an error of the heart. The cure will be found by revealing, in the divine nature, the longed-for traits in greater beauty and force than are given them in the legends of the mother of Jesus. " Meanwhile, if the doctors of theology have long hesitated to deify the virgin, art has uncon- sciously raised her to the highest place. There is nothing in attitude, expression, or motion which has been left untried. The earlier Christian painters were content to express her pure fervor, without relying upon the element of beauty. But as, age by age, imagination kindled, the canvas has given forth this divine mother in more and more glowing beauty, borrowing from the Grecian spirit all that was charming in the highest ideals of Venus, and adding to them an element of transcendent purity and devotion which has no parallel in ancient art. " It is difficult for one whose eye has been steeped in the colors of art to go back from its enchantment to the barrenness of actual history. 25 410 HENRY WARD BEECHER. ™"1l By Luke alone is the place even of her residence mentioned. It is only inferred that she was of the royal house of David. She was already espoused to a man named Joseph, but not as yet married. This is the sum of our knowledge of Mary at the point where her history is introduced. Legends abound, many of them charming ; but, like the in- numerable faces which artists have painted, they gratify the imagination without adding anything to historic truth. "The scene of the Annunciation will always be admirable 'n literature, even to those who are not disposed to accord it any historic value. To an- nounce to an espoused virgin that she was to be the mother of a child out of wedlock by the un- conscious working in her of the divine power would, beforehand, seem inconsistent with deli- cacy. But no person of poetic sensibility can read the scene, as it is narrated by Luke, without admiring its sublime purity and serenity. It is not a transaction of the lower world of passion. Things most difficult to a lower sphere are both easy and beautiful in that atmosphere which, as it were, the angel brought down with him. "'And the angel came in unto her and said, Hail ! thou that art highly favored ! The Lord is with thee ! ' "Then was announced the birth of Jesus, and that he should inherit and prolong endlessly the glories promised to Israel of old. To her inquiry. HENRY WARt) BEECHER. 411 ' How shall this be ? ' the angel replied : ' The Holy Ghost shall come upon thee, and the power of the Highest shall ovc '•shadow thee ; therefore also that holy thing which shall be born of thee shall be called the Son of God.' "It was also made known to Mary that her cousin Elizabeth had conceived a son, and Mary said : • Behold the handmaid of the Lord ! Be it unto me according to thy word.' " Many have brought to this history the as- sociations of a later day, of a different civilization and of habits of thought foreign to the whole cast of the oriental mind. Out of a process so un- philosophical they have evolved the most serious doubts and difficulties. But no one is fitted to appreciate either the beauty or the truthfulness to nature of such a scene who cannot in some degree carry himself back in sympathy to that Jewish maiden's life. The education of a Hebrew woman was far freer than that of women of other oriental nations. She had more personal liber- ties, a wider scope of intelligence than obtained among the Greeks or even among the Romans. But above all, she received a moral education which placed her high above her sisters in other lands. "It is plain that Mary was imbued with the spirit of the Hebrew Scriptures. Not only was the history of her people familiar to her, but her language shows that the poetry of the Old Tes- m HENRY WARD REECilER. lament had filled her soul. She was fitted to receive her people's history in its most romantic and spiritual aspects. They were God's peculiar people. Their history unrolled before her as a series of most wonderful providences. The path glowed with divine manifest tions. Miracles blossomed out of every natural law. But to her there were no laws of nature. Such ideas had not been born. The earth was ' the Lord's.' All its phenomena were direct manifestations of his will. Clouds and storms came on errands from God. Light and darkness were the shining or the hiding of his face. Calamities were punishments. Har- vests were divine gifts. Famines were immediate divine penalties. To us God acts through instru- ments ; to the Hebrew he acted immediately by his will. ' He spake and it was done ; he com- manded and it stood fast.' " To such a one as Mary there would be no in- credulity as to the reality of this angelic mani- festation. Her only surprise would be that she should be chosen for a renewal of those divine interpositions in behalf of her people of which their history was so full. The very reason which would lead us to suspect a miracle in our day gave it credibility in other days. It is simply a question of adaptation. A miracle, as a blind ap- peal to the moral sense, without the use of reason, was adapted to the earlier periods of human life. Its usefulness ceases when the moral sense is so HENRY WARD BEECHER. 413 so developed that it can find its own way, through the ministration of the reason. A miracle is a substitute for moral demonstration, and is pecu- liarly adapted to the early conditions of mankind. " Of all miracles, there was none more sacred, congruous and grateful to a Hebrew than an an- gelic visitation. A devout Jew, in looking back, saw angels flying thick between the heavenly throne and the throne of his fathers. The greatest events of national history had been made illustrious by their presence. Their work began with the primitive pair. They had come at evening to Abraham's tent. They had waited upon Jacob's footsteps. T'^ey had communed with Moses, with the judges, with priests and magistrates, with prophets and holy men. All the way down from the beginning of history the pio as Jew saw the shin- ing footsteps of these heavenly messengers. Nor had the faith died out in the long interval through which their visits had been withheld. Mary could not, therefore, be surprised at the coming angels, but only that they should come to her. " It may seem strange that Zacharias should be struck dumb for doubting the heavenly messen- ger, while Mary went unrebuked. But it is plain that there was a wide difference in the nature of the relative experience. To Zacharias was prom- ised an event external to himself, not involving his own sensibility. But to a woman's heart there can be no other announcement possible that 414 HENRY WARD BEECHER. shall SO Stir every feeling and sensibility of the soul as the promise and prospect of her first child. Motherhood is the very centre of woman- hood. The first awaking in her soul of the re- ality that she bears a double life, herself within herself, brings a sweet bewilderment of wonder and joy. The more sure her faith of the fact, the more tremulous must her soul become. Such an announcement can never mean to a father's what it does to a mother's heart. And it is one of the exquisite shades of subtle truth, and of beauty as well, that the angel who rebuked Zacharias for doubt saw nothing in the trembling hesitancy and wonder of Mary inconsistent with a childlike faith." It is difficult to make selections where all is so enjoyable, but it seems worth while to quote this passage relating to the birth of Christ : "At the season of our Saviour's advent the nights were soft and genial. It was no hardship for rugged shepherds to spend the night in the fields with their flocks. By day, as the sheep fed, their keepers might whiie away their time with sights and sounds along the earth. When dark- ness shut in the scene the heavens would naturally attract their attention. Their eyes Had so long kept company with the mysterious stars that doubtless, like shepherds of more ancient times they were rude astronomers, and had grown familiar with the planets, and knew them in all !F HENRY WARD BEECHER. 415 all their courses. But there came to them a night surpassing all nights in wonders. Of a sudden the whole heavens were filled with light, as if morn- ing were come upon midnight. Out of this splen- dor a single voice issued, as of a choral leader: ' Behold, I bring you glad tidings of great joy.' The shepherds were told of the Saviour's birth, and of the place where the babe might be found. Then no longer a single voice, but a host in heaven was heard celebrating the event. 'Sud- denly there was with ♦^he angel a multitude of the heavenly host, praising God, and saying. Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good- will toward men.' " Raised to a fervor of wonder, these children of the field made haste to find the babe and to make known on every side the marvellous vision. Moved by this faith to worship and to glorify God, they were thus unconsciously the earliest disciples and the first evangelists, for ' they made kn6wn abroad the saying which was told them concerning this child.' '• In beautiful contrast with these rude exclama- tory worshippers, the mother is described as silent and thoughtful. ' Mary kept all these things and pondered them in her heart.' If no woman comes to herself until she loves, so, it may be said, she knows not how to love until her first- born is in her arms. Sad is it for her who does not feel herself made sacred by motherhood. 416 HENRY WARD BEECHER. That heart-pondering! Who may tell the thoughts which rise from the deep places of an inspired love, more in number and more beauti- ful than the particles of vapor which the sun draws from the surface of the sea? *' Intimately as a mother must feel that her babe is connected with her own body, even more she is wont to feel that her child comes direct from God. God-given is a familiar name in every language. Not from her Lord came this child to Mary. It was her Lord Himself who came. "A sweet and trusting faith in God, childlike simplicity, and profound love seem to have formed the nature of Mary. She may be ac- cepted as the type of Christian motherhood. In this view, and excluding the dogma of her im- maculate nature, and still more emphatically that of any other participation in divinity than that which is common to all, we may receive with pleasure the stores of exquisite pictures with which Christian art has filled its realm. The ' Madonnas ' are so many tributes to the beauty and dignity of motherhood ; and they may stand so interpreted now that the superstitious associa- tions which they have had are so wholly worn away. At any rate, the Protestant reaction from Mary has gone far enough, and on our own grounds we may well have our share also in the memory of this sweet and noble woman. "The same reason which led our Lord to HENRY WARD BEECHER. 417 clothe himself with flesh made it proper, when he was born, to have fulfilled upon him all the cus- toms of his people. He was therefore circum- cised when eight days old, and presented in the Temple on the fortieth day, at which period his mother had completed the dme appointed for her purification. The offering required was a lamb and a dove ; but if the parents were poor, then two doves. Mary's humble condition was indi- cated by the offering of two doves. And yet, if she had heard the exclamation of John after the Lord's baptism, years afterwards, she might have perceived that, in spite of her poverty, she had brought the Lamb, divine and precious! " Surprise upon surprise awaited Mary. There dwelt at Jerusalem, wrapped in his own devout and longing thoughts, a great nature, living con- tentedly in obscurity, Simeon by name. This venerable man seized the child with holy rapture, when it was presented in the Temple, and broke forth in the very spirit of a prophet : ' Lord, now lettest Thou Thy servant depart in peace, accord- ing to Thy word : for mine eyes have seen Thy salvation, which Thou hast prepared before the face of all people ; a light to lighten the Gentiles, and the glory of Thy people Israel.' "Both Mary and Joseph were amazed, but there was something in Mary's appearance that drew this inspired old man especially to her. • Behold, this child is set for the fall and rising I t 418 HENRY WARD BEECHER. again of many in Israel. . . . Yea, a sword shall pierce through thine own soul also.' "As the asters, among plants, go all summer unbeautiful, their flowers hidden within, and burst into bloom at the very end of summer and in late autumn, with the frosts upon their heads, so this aged saint had blossomed, at the close of a long life, into this noble ecstasy of joy. In a stormy time, when outward life moves wholly against one's wishes, he is truly great whose soul be- comes a sanctuary in which patience dwells with hope. In one hour Simeon received full satisfac- tion for the yearnings of many years. "Among the Jews, more perhaps than in any oriental nation, woman was permitted to develop naturally, and liberty was accorded her to partici- pate in things which other people reserved with zealous seclusion for men. Hebrew women were prophetesses, teachers (2 Kings xxii. 14), judges, queens. The advent of our Saviour was hailed appropriately by women, Anna, the prophetess, joining with Simeon in praise and thanksgiving." But it was destined that the "Life of Christ" should not be finished. For reasons to be given hereafter Mr. Beecher suspended his labors at that time. A few months prior to his death he began to work upon it again, but it was unfinished, and his own life went out leaving with it that which he hoped might be his chief monument still incomplete. HENRY WARD BEECHER. 419 The ''Life of Christ" he left unfinished — woe to the impious hand that attempts to take it up. At this time it would have been impossible to find a man on the face of the earth on whom the sun of fortune shown more brilliantly than Henry Ward Beecher. H'* was honored by the nation. His influence with che government and the people was equal to that of any one. He was in constant demand as a lecturer, and his appearance in popular assemblages was inva- riably a signal forgenuineand welcomingapplause. Although not rich he had an enormous income, which he spent freely and generously. His paper, the Christian Union, had attained a phenomenal circulation, and prosperity seemed to i>e hand in hand with him wherever he went and in whatever he undertook. He had been for twenty-five years pastor of Ply- mouth Church, and in October of the year 1872 their Silver Wedding was celebrated. At one of the meetings, as indicating the brotherly feeling that obtained from the first, Mr. Beecher said : " Dear brethren, this is the Church Day — the day of brotherhood. We have had the Children's Day, and we have had the Teachers' Day ; and now we have the day of the brother- hood. And I wish to bear my witness m respect to the membership of this church, which has been so large, and has run through so many years. I 420 HENRY WARD BEECHER. wish to testify that the power of God manifested in this Church has been in the largest measure through the fidelity, the enterprise, and the dis- creetness of the membership itself. The power of religion in the household ; the general effect and love of the Lord Jesus Christ upon the dis- position of those who have been members of this church, and theirwillingness to go forth and labor — these have been the source of our real progres- sive strength. It has no<- been the collective body, it has not been the consecrated ordinances, it has not been the str icture, physical, exterior, or eccle- siastical, which has been so imposing, and has so wrought upon the imagination ; it has been the grace of God imparted to individual souls, and carried from heart to heart, by which the work of God has gone on in this community, through the instrumentality of Plymouth Church. And I am as sure that my ministry would have been comparatively barren but for the discreetness and enterprise and co-operative zeal of the mem- bers of the church, as that a pine tree, with every branch cut off, would be a barren pole and worth- less. It has been the branches that have borne the fruit, and cast down the grateful shade. It is a testimony to the wisdom of organizing churches in the family relation — into a brotherhood ; it is a tes- timony whose whole force cannot be gauged nor es- timated when stated ; and it is a powerful testimony. " For twenty-five years there has not been a [lifested neasure the dis- ; power il effect the dis- s of this labor — progres- ve body, 2S, it has or eccle- d has so been the Duls, and the work , through 1. And I ive been creetness the mem- ith every nd worth- ive borne le. It is a lurches in it is a tes- ed nor es- estimony. Dt been a o 58 O X < m JO o 5 o r, r w w > H O 2 3- ue:'i "■IMWBM 1 II II i ■ i|; HENRY WARD BKECHER. 423 meeting called to settle any quarrel in this church. There have been more or less reasons lor counsel; there have been persons who have required cen- sure and discipline ; but there has never been oc- casion to take counsel for the settlement of any quarrel. Nor has there been an hour spent in considering how to prevent a division of the church, or how to keep it together. There have not been lacking in tliis church men who had notions of their own, men whose heads were not soft ; and yet, in times when there were strifes and wars, and there were divisive influences at work on every hand, and the air was lurid night and day, in this church, which has numbered from one to two thousand members, which has been made up of men and women of more than ordi- nary culture and natural strength, and in which there has been the utmost liberty of discussion, there have not been, from the beginning of its history, to this day, ten minutes of counsel as to how it should be kept together, or to settle any difficulty which threatened danger to it. "We have acted on the principle of love first and conscience second, and not conscience first and love second; and this has been the source of great power to us. Christ Jesus, as an embod- iment of the principle of love, has diffused His influence among us, and has leavened the lives and dispositions of men here. From this principle, which has been prominent in our midst, has come great peace, and joy, and hope." I \'I4?-|,^ Hi 424 h?:nry ward beecher. In referring to the humble days when Plymouth Church paid Mr. Beecher a salary of ^1,500, one of the members gave the following interesting reminiscences : " Early after his arrival in Brooklyn Mr. Beecher stated that he desired particularly to be associated with the young business men of these two cities, and should ask their co-operation and help in every good work. He had been con- nected, he said, with Presbyterian churches, but he was not a sectarian, and he could work as easily in the Congregational church as in the Presbyterian, and so he entered most hopefully and joyfully into the new field he had chosen. In coming to this city, he proposed to be zealous and bold as a reformer, to be uncompromising with slavery and intemperance, and to enlist with him leading Christian radical young men. He meant business, not rest, in coming to this city. He even felt himself called upon to work harder, be- cause it should not be said that he came to the city to rest, or to get the large salary of $1,500 a year. "Soon after his arrival an ecclesiastical council was called for his installation. It consisted of many wise men from the East, including Drs. Hewitt, Bushnell, Cheever and others, with sev- eral distinguished laymen. Dr. Hewitt, in one of the questions propounded said, *Mr. Beecher, do you believe in the doctrine of the final perse- HENRY WARD BEECHER. 42') verance of the saints?' 'Well,' Mr. Beecher promptly answered, ' 1 was early taught to be- lieve that doctrine, and I did so most firmly until I went West. Since I have been there my faith has been somewhat shaken, for I have found that Eastern Christians, when they go West, have very frequently failed to persevere as they ought.* Dr. Bushnell said that this answer was worth a journey from Hartford to hear. The council thought Mr. Beecher hardly came up to the New England standard of orthodoxy, but they believed he was a good man, and it was voted to install him. "The services of the church continued to be very well attended. Before Mr. Beecher came to the city religious services were held Sunday morning and evening during the summer, and a Sabbath-school was organized. Nearly fifty schol- ars were present the first Sunday. I became superintendent by drifting into that position. Quite a number of teachers presented themselves. Mr. Bell and Dr. Morrill, and perhaps one or two more, yet remain connected with the church and its Sabbath-schools. From that small beginning of fifty scholars, we have grown to nearly three thousand. We have, indeed, abundant cause to bless God for this unexampled Sunday-school prosperity. "The partial burning of the old church made it apparent at once that it would be wise on our 426 HENRY WARD BEECHER. m part to erect a new edifice. Accordingly, we ob- tained plans from Mr. J. C. Wells, a competent English architect, then residing in New York. As I have said, he was a most able man, but his ideas in regard to church architecture were very different from ours, and ^ave them up with great reluctance. We wanted a building ar- ranged solely for practical use, rather than for or- nament or display. It was decided that the build- ing should accommodate two thousand persons. This was regarded by many as a bold and risky undertaking. But I may say, in passing, that the very first day it was occupied we felt that it ought to have been nearly as large again. While the new church was being built, a temporary structure or 'Tabernacle was erected on land at the corner of Pierre ■ and Henry streets, generously offered by Louis Tappan, Esq., for our use, without any rent or charge whatever, for two years, or until the new structure should be completed. The cost of the tabernacle was about three thousand five hundred dollars. The pews and seats of the old church, which were not de- stroyed by the fire, were used in the tabernacle. That building held more than our church now holds. Nearly three thousand people were often crowded within its walls. It was one story high, with a tin roof, and during a heavy storm of rain or hail, our exercises were very much disturbed by the intolerable pattering on our metallic cover- HENRY WARD BEECIIER. 427 ob- tent ork. his very with ar- )r or- Duild- sons. risky at the hat it While Dorary ing. But in other respects it was a very service- able building. We worshipped there during a whole winter. The pews were assigned in this building as nearly as possible in the same relative positions as those of the old church. A collec- tion was taken every Sunday to pay the cost of the Tabernacle, so that no pare of the money col- lected from the pew-rents, or for the erection of the new church, was expended. " Subscription lists for the new edifice were im- mediately put into circulation among the congre- gation, and generally throughout Brooklyn and New York, particularly among New England people. I myself saw at least two-thirds of the signatures affixed to the subscription papers. "The money came from all Christian sects. " Mr. Sherman Day was then a most valuable officer in the church, and a trustee; he was one of the Building Committee for the new church, and most untiring in his efforts to carry out the plans which were adopted. On the completion of the new church the new system of the annual renting of pews was adopted after a great deal of discussion, and it has given almost universal satisfaction ever since. "It was determined that every man worshipping in the house should have the privilege once a year of selecting a seat according to his means. By this plan, we introduced into this neighborhood a new democratic principle in the management of 26 428 HENRY WARD BEECHER. the financial affairs of the church. The result has proved that our decision in this respect was an eminently wise one. Scrip was issued to every person who contributed to the fund for the erection of the new building, the interest of which was payable in pew-rent and not otherwise. Any surplus funds above the pastor's salary and other expenses were to be devoted to tlie cancellation of said scrip ; and I am happy to say that the prosperity of the church has enabled the trustees, from its surplus funds, to pay every dollar of that scrip, principal and interest. "When the new church edifice was finished, the old Tabernacle was sold for ;j^ 1,300. It was bought on speculation, and shipped Lo California; for all this occurred in the early gold-fever times, when buildinor materials and lumber of all kinds were selling there at fabulous prices. From some cause or other, the purchasers speculation proved anything but a paying one. He said he never got enough for the old pews and tin roofing, and so on, to pay the cost of transportation. It should be here stated that, before the Tabernacle was set up for our use, the Church of the Pilgrims was placed at our disposal for one service a daj', and one or two other churches in the city were also kindly offered to us, until the Tabernacle could be completed. "The new church, when finished, was but half paid for. A floating debt of ^13,000, and a mort- HENRY WARD BEECHER. 429 gage debt of ^15,000 or $20,000, existed at the time it was ready for our occupancy. The floating debt was cancelled by a general subscription throughout the entire congregation. Men, women, and even children contributed, according to their ability, in sums varying all the way from |iioo down to $5. The mortgage debt was afterward cancelled, and then the scrip was redeemed, as before stated. In calling on the citizens of Brooklyn and New York for money to build a new church and furnish the same, we visited a great many individuals who were personally strangers to the committee. These visits made us a great many friends, and many wealthy per- sons were in this way committed to our cause; and thus new bonds of union were at once formed between the congregation and parties outside, which have not been sundered to this day. The applications for help, as I now well remember, were responded to in almost all cases most heartily and cheerfully. Persons in New York who came over occasionally to hear Mr. Beecher — of all denominations, and some of no d« nomi- nation at all — contributed their money gladly towards the enterprise. Ml.* of no religious , principles whatever, even atheists, gave freely to our cause ; and a man who was violently opposed to all reliofion said he wou ofive a contribution because he always liked to hear what Mr. Beecher had to say. A few contributions were received ii; |i I 430 HENRY WARD BEECHER. from Roman Catholics. I well remember these remarkable and most interesting cases. "A new feature was early introduced into our church. A large parlor was specially included in the plan of the new building, and this was intended for social meetings. These meetings were most admirable adjuncts to our other religious ma- chinery. The social meetings were largely at- tended for many years, and finally tb'*y became very general among other churches. They are continued, under slightly diversified forms, to this date. " Mr. Beecher's outspoken utterances against slavery and intemperance made him some ene- mies, but he never flinched, and was determined always to speak the words he believed to be true. He was also in favor of free speech in every quar- ter, and was willing that our own church edifice should be used by parties who di^ered with him. The friends of Wendell Phillips had engaged him to speak in New York on the subject of slavery. Fearing a mob, the owners of all the public halls refused him an audience-room for the purpose. Mr. Beecher was at length applied to, and, though differing materially from Mr. Wendell Phillips on many points, he immediately drew up a paper and visited each trustee of the church in person, and asked permission to grant the church for the use of Mr. Phillips, that he might have a place to de- liver his own views on the subject of slavery. He HENRY WARD BEECHER. 431 also asked each trustee to be present, armed with a good heavy cane ; and also further requested them to engage a strong police force to be pres- ent, and protect themselves and Mr. Phillips from assault. " ' I don't ask it,' said Mr. Beecher, • because I believe in all of Mr. Phillips' doctrines, but I do demand it in the interest of free speech and fair play!' The trustees unanimously consented to Mr. Beecher's request ; and all presented them- selves, with their canes, in the vestibule, protected by a strong force of the police. Mr. Beecher said to me afterward, that if the movement had resulted in his dismissal from Plymouth Church he would, nevertheless, have persisted in it. Mr, Phillips, he said, might be called a heretic on religion and on many other subjects, but he had a right to be heard. 'And,' said he, ' if the trustees of Plymouth Church had shown any such intoler- ance I would have resigned ; ' adding, ' I can stand on the head of a barrel at the corner of the street and preach, if necessary.' Mr. Beecher's course quickly neutralized the little opposition there was in the church in regard to Mr. Phillips. This bold movement may be called the turning-point of die great anti-slavery struggle. It settled the question forever, in Brooklyn, at least, that a man has a right to speak his sentiments. It seems strange, in view of the fact that Mr, Beecher's days of influence stretched out many il 432 HENRY WARD BEECHER. years from that time, to see how frequently he alluded to the possibility, almost probability, of his immediate departure. Here is an illustration : " I bless God when I look back. I have lived my life, and no man can take it from me. The mis- takes that I have made, and they are many, none know so well as I. My incapacity and insuf- ficiency none can feel so profoundly as I. I have been able to develop, with satisfaction to myself, what seems to me the character of God and the love of Christ, that forever hang above my head, inspiring and eluding every endeavor which I make to present them as they should be pre- sented. And yet I have this witness, that for twenty-five years I have not withhwld my strength, and have labored with simplicity and with sincerity of motive for the honor of my God, and for the love that I bear to you, and for the ineradicable love that I have for my country and for the world. " My time is drawing near ; but if I should fall to-morrow, I have lived. I have seen this land rise up from its drunkenness and its shame. I have seen the original principles of liberty, which had well-nigh been buried, come, like Lazarus, from the grave. What if, for the first few steps of the new life, bound hand and foot in grave- clothes, and with a napkin about the head, stag- gering somewhat, it knew not how to find the right path ? Our country is free ; and it has HENRY WARD BEECHER. 433 pleased God to give you and me some part in the work of enfranchisement, in the settlement of this land on the old foundation of truth and justice and universal liberty. " I have lived through a quarter of a century, and had a free platform ; and you have sustained me in speaking just what I thought to be true. You have never servilely believed anything because I said it ; for you have maintained opinions different from mine from the becjlnninsf to the end. You have permitted me to speak — and I have had grace given me to speak what seemed to me to be the truth — further than some of you who were cautious thought I should go, and slower and more tardily than some of you thought I should ; but, according to you the right to follow the dic- tates of your own consciences, and claiming the same right for myself, and holding my conscience subject to the illumination of God, I have done the best that I knew how to do. " I was admonished that the best of my years are passed, and that my sun will soon go down. Let it go down to-day, to-morrow, whenever it may please God. I will not ask for the lengthen- ing out of one single day. I have lived a happy life, I have been a happy pastor. I have loved you, and been beloved by you. I have seen your children come up and walk in the ways of life. I have gone down with hundreds to see the frame- work laid in the dust, believing that the spirit was 434 HENRY WARD BEECHER. above. We have come through the years to- gether without a quarrel, without a break, and without a shaking of confidence, to this blessed hour. And now, in these closing words which I address to you and to all who are present, join with me, not in self-gratulation, nor in the inter- change of compliments, but in thanksgiving to Christ that has loved us, to the Spirit of God that has inspired us, and to the dear Father that has kept us together in the one household of faith, beloved and loving, thus far. " Our hearts go out to-night to all those who are in different spheres of labor. We remember them. We send to them our memories to-night. We recall the honored dead who yet live. We are joined to them. Doubtless those who sang with us here are singing to us from yonder sphere. They and we are one. If we still, in the provi- dence of God, continue to dwell together in unity and labor. Christian brethren, may God grant that the future shall be as the past has been, only yet more abundant in labor, in disinterestedness, and in concord based upon fellowship with the Lord Jesus Christ ; helping all, hindering none, and looking for the blessed appearance of Him who is our Life, and by whom we shall yet be crowned in the kingdom of His glory." But perhaps the most remarkable of all the tributes paid Mr. Beecher on that memorable Silver Wedding occasion was that of Richard S. HENRY WARD BEECHER. 436 Storrs, who, as a representative of the Christian community, extended to him a compliment of which any man in Christendom might well be proud. He at great length analyzed the ele- ments of his power, which he classed in the fol- lowing sequence — First, a thoroughly vitalized mind, its creative faculties in full play all the time ; second, immense common-sense, a wonderfully self-rectifying judgment; third, a quick and deep sympathy with men ; fourth, mental sensibility ; fifth, his wonderful animal vigor, his fulness of bodily power, his voice, which can whisper and thunder alike ; his sympathy with nature, and an enthusiasm for Christ which has certainly been the animating power of his ministry. He spoke of him as the foremost preacher in the American pulpit and, after continuing in a most eulogistic strain a long time, in the presence of an immense and silent congregation he advanced to Mr. Beecher, who arose, and taking him by the hand said : " I am here to-night to give you the right hand of congratulation on the closing of this twenty-fifth year of your ministry, and to say, God be praised for all the work that you have done here. God be praised for the generous gifts which he has showered upon you, and the generous use which you have made of them, here and elsewhere, and everywhere in the land ! God give you many happy and glorious years of work and joy still to come in your ministry on earth! 436 HENRY WARD BEECHER. May your soul, as the years go on, be whitened more and more in the radiance of God's light and in the sunshine of his love ! And, when the end comes, as it will, may the gates of pearl swing inward for your entrance, before the hands of those who have gone up before you and who now wait to welcome you thither! And then, may there open to you that vast and bright enter- nity, all vivid with God's love, in which an instant vision shall be perfect joy, and an immortal labor shall be to you immortal rest ! " " This magnificent concluding passage," said a local paper the next day, " was uttered with an eloquence that defies descripdon. At this con- clusion Mr. Beecher, with tears, and trembling from head to foot, arose, and placing his hand on Dr. Storrs' shoulder, kissed him upon the cheek. The congregation sat for a moment breathless and enraptured with this simple and beautiful action. Then there broke from them such a burst of applause as never before was heard in an ecclesiastical edifice. There was not a dry eye in the house." IX. THE GREAT PREACHER's TERRIBLE EXPERIENCE. BUT all this must have an end. In less than a month, suspicions were excited, friends were estranged, the church was in arms and the country rang with a scandal ex- ceeding any that had preceded it. Aside from volumes of irrelevant or pertinent matter pub- lished by the press concerning the suit of Theo- dore Tilton against Henry Ward Beecher, the facts are as follows : First: In the early days of Mr. Beecher's Brooklyn ministry, Theodor Tilton and Elizabeth Richards, young members of Plymouth Church, were married. Tilton was a reporter on the Tribtme, and reported Mr. Beecher for the Inde- pe7ident. When Beecher became editor of the Independent Tilton was engaged as his assistant. They were warm friends, and interchanged vis- its, although those of Tilton were discouraged by Mrs. Beecher, who never fancied him. As time wore on, Tilton, encouraged and aided by the countenance of his pastor, essayed public speak- ing and having adopted his anti-slavery ideas, (437) 1 438 HENRY WARD BEECHER. was soon a favorite with extreme abolitionists. He succeeded Mr. Beecher when the latter left the Independent, and was persuaded by his friends that his pastor was the one man who stood be- tween him and the chief place among the orators of the nation. So far as the outside public knew, the two men were like David and Jonathan, and at a reception given to General Grant in the Fifth Avenue Hotel they were seen arm in arm together — a feature of the reception, which was made at the special request of Tilton, and greatly to the annoyance of the intimates of Mr. Beecher. The friendship between Mr. Beecher and Mrs. Tilton continued as of old, and Tilton's course of comment and of ill-disguised hostility to Beecher was a prime element in the young wife's unhap- piness. Second: On November 2, 1873, Wood hull & Claflin's Weekly charged Mr. Beecher and Mrs. Tilton with adultery. The paper was suppressed and the editors imprisoned for a time, the indis- creet friends of Mr. Beecher being prominent in their prosecution. The parties implicated gave the He direct to their accusers. The impression gathered from Tilton's talk was that there was some sort of foundation for some charge, but that as told, it was a gross fabrication. Mr. F. D. Moulton, a " mutual friend," also said the same. Tilton was in business embarrassment ; moody and garrulous, and his wild way of talking HENRY WARD BEECHER. 439 and strange habit of methodically hintingr as to what he knew and what he could do, precipitated matters, and a charge was made that he, a mem- ber of Plymouth Church, had slandered the pas- tor. Tilton met pastor and church face to face, and said he was prepared to answer any charge Mr. Beecher might make. To the unutterable amazement of all present and the wonder of the world Mr. Beecher replied tliat he made none. Tilton further said that he was not a member of the church, as he had voluntarily retired long since. The church adopted that view of the mat- ter and dropped his name from its rolls, though that of Mrs. Tilton remained. From this simple circumstance arose a volumi- nous and interesting correspondence between Mr. Beecher, Dr. Storrs and Dr. Buddington, out of which grew a famous council of Congregational churches in March, 1874, and some almost in- terminable letters of Dr. Bacon. In a nutshell, the case is this: Mr. Beecher declared that no man, by joining a church, divests himself of the right to withdraw from it, and that though ordi- narily such withdrawal should be with the ex- pressed consent of the church, yet in contingency every man has an indefeasible right to separate himself from the church by his own sole right. His opponents dissented and claimed that Con- gregational usage dictated certain methods of pro- cedure that must be followed. Mr. Beecher ar- 440 HENRY WARD BEECHER. gued that the woid of God made no such pro- vision, and that each church organization had the right to make its own rules for 'the conduct of its affairs. They could not agree, and when a coun- cil was called, Plymouth Church declined to par- ticipate, contenting itself by presenting a written declaration of its principles and the assertion that its pastor having been abundantly vindicated (in the church investigation that followed the publi- cation of the scandal), it could not permit any outside interference with Its internal economy. The council met, and Dr. Bacon presided. Its sessions were long, and much bitterness of feeling was manifested, but the conclusion was far different from that expected. The council adopted a report indirectly charging Plymouth Church with "want of fellowship" with other churches, but directly praising it for its willingness to obey the manual discipline. In other words, it decided nothing. Much ill-feeling grew out of this. Dr. Storrs and Mr. Beecher, who had publicly embraced and kissed each other — three thousand witnesses applauding — were now separated for- ever. Brooklyn society was divided. The press took sides and the country was amazed. Dr. Bacon delivered a lecture to Yale's students on the subject, and discussed it at length in the Independent^ from which Tilton had been pro- i the of its coun- f par- ritten n that id (in publi- it any ny. I. ess of Aras far flopted Zhurch jrches, o obey ublicly ousand ed for- ry was I Yale's length d been X c r. > •J c HENRY WARD BEECH ER. 443 removed. This annoyed the friends of Mr. Beecher, who kept strangely silent, although he preached better than ever, and was in greater de- mand, which worried Tilton beyond measure. Tilton's egotism and vanity, already sorely wounded by failure and disgrace, were pricked to the quick by the merciless criticisms of the logi- cians. All efforts to suppress the matter failed, and Tilton published an article in which h^ said he had left Plymouth Church in 1870 because he had learned that, in that year, Mr. Beecher had committed ag-ainst him an offence which he should forbear to name or to characterize ; and he further stated that Mr. Beecher had brought disgrace on the Christian name. After this followed the " scandal summer," in which Mr. Beecher asked his church to investigate the scandal itself — not the church discipline mat- ter, but the direct charge of Tilton — and it did so. Mr. Beecher's indiscreet friends, believing in the policy of silence, had their meetings in secret. Reporters were compelled to glean their points where they could find them. The Tilton party, aided and abetted by Moulton, were always ready to talk, and the consequence was the public were continually fed on charges, innuendoes and slanders of the most prurient nature. Mrs. Tilton, always a talky person, did her part also. Leaving her husband's home, she lived |i 444 HENRY WARD BEECHER. with members of Plymouth Church. Women constantly talked with her and repeated what she said, with their eccentric notions added. The committee fondly hoped to be able to keep the details of their investigation from the public eye. Tilton had handed in two "statements," not to be published. Moultonr did the same. Beecher was examined also. The committee reported in favor of the pastor and the church held a joyful meet- ing. But it was the beginning only of an end never attained. It was not long before the Tilton story found its way to the public press, and then it appeared that Tilton charged Beecher with the ruin of his wife, the details of which, he said, he gave. The most extraordinary letters, purporting to be from Beecher to Tilton, or Moulton, were published, and ere long it appeared as if the social structure of Brooklyn in general, and Plymouth Church in particular, iiad been for years upon the crest of a boiling volcano. Through the long summer and autumn the war of bitter words and recriminations continued, until it culminated in a suit for ^100,000 damages brought by Tilton against Beecher. Third : The trial of this case was one of the best illustrations of the power of money and the uncertainty of the law the books can disclose. The simple question was, " Has the defendant damaged the plaintiff by adultery with his wife, and HENRY WARD BEECHER. 445 If so, is he damao^ed to the extent of j^ioo.ocxD?" But, simple as the question was, it took one judge, twelve jurors, and ten bright lawyers six months to ascertain that they could not answer it. The plaintiff had as counsel ex-judge Samuel D. Mor- ris, ex-Judge William FuUerton, William A. Beach, and Judge Morris' partner, Mr. Pearsall. Mr. Beecher was defended by William M. Evarts, ex- Judge John K. Porter, General Benjamin F. Tracy, Thomas K. Shearman, John B. Hill, and Mr. Ab- bott. Judge Neilson, of the Brooklyn City Court, tried the case. At first it appeared to be his in- tention to permit the legal net to draw in every kind of fish the dirty pool contained, and the trial went on and on. Tilton's examination was as good as a play. Mr. Beecher's was as dramatic as a tragedy. If they had been dictating their autobiographies for an encyclopaedia, wider latitude could not have been granted. The court-room was packed. Mr. and Mrs. Beecher were attended by hosts of friends. Enthusiastic admirers sent Tilton bou- quets, and the scene became a daily rival to the best shows in the land. There seemed to be no idea of the fact that it was a suit for cash. The papers openly discussed the question of "Beecher s ^uilt." "Is he guilty?" was the universal ques- tion, and after a while the popular mind settled on the belief that Mr. Beecher was on trial for adultery and that the verdict must be "guilty," or 27 44») HENRY WARD BEFXHER. "not guilty." One of the features of the case was the presentation and reading of a series of ex- traordinary letters written by Mr. and Mrs, Tilton to each other. The plaintiff had no tangible evi- dence of the defendant's guilt save (i) inference, (2) an alleged but not produced letter of Mrs. Tilton, and (3) the testimony of Mr. and Mrs. Moulton that Mr. Beecher confessed adultery to them. The inferences were drawn from letters of Mr, Beecher which were characteristically outspoken and extravagant. It appeared, too, that since the alleged discovery Tilton had accepted $7,500 from Mr. Beecher, although Tilton said he did not know where the money came from. This was supplemented by a line sent to Mr. Beecher's pulpit just after some of the money was received by Tilton, which read "Grace, mercy and peace— T. T." Mr. Beecher was put through a course of bio- graphical narration, the like of which was never heard — his boyhood, his education, his lifework, his religious faith. Finally they asked a pertinent question, and he declared, in the presence of the Almighty, that he had never committed adultery. • The theory of the defence was that when Mrs. Tilton in the anguish of her soul went to consult her pastor about the misconduct and brutal treat- ment of her husband, Mr. Beecher referred her to Mrs. Beecher, who, after listening to Mrs, :ase was s of ex- 's. Tilton rible evi- nference, of Mrs. md Mrs. adultery rs of Mr. ►utspoken since the. i $7,500 lid he did This was Beecher's received d peace— rse of bio- was never hfework, pertinent nee of the adultery, when Mrs. to consult rutal treat- iferred her to Mrs. .t^-^ m i iSi llil 1 !i;«lii ii pi I'lpiil iiii HENRY WARD BEECHER. 449 Tilton's wrongs, repeated them to her husband, and they advised her to leave him. This, com- bined with other troubles and his life-long hatred and jealousy of Beecher's fame, led Tilton to conspire with other parties to pull Beecher down. After this, when Moulton explained to Beecher that Mrs. Tilton's story was a fabrication, and convinced him that he had broken up the Tilton home by advising Mrs. Tilton to leave it, and had thus opened the door for Bowen to discharge Til- ton from the htdependent, Beecher broke down, wept bitterly, and in characteristic self-condem- nation said, " I humble myself before him as I do before my God," and did what he could by send- ing him money with which to buoy up his sunken fortune. After six months, at least five of which were frittered away, the jury retired to deliberate. They stood ten for the defendant and two for the plaintiff. In that way they remained a long time. A son-in-law of the foreman had made a bet that the jury would not be for the plaintiff. This was made known, and created hard feeling. At one time, it is said, they found for the defendant, and afi^reed to so report at the conclusion of the fol- lowing day. The foreman, desiring to be placed right about his son-in-law, unwisely revived the story of the alleged wager ! This renewed the discussion, and again a breach was made. No 460 HENRY WARD BEECHER. iifil! argument could convince either section, and they reported their inability to agree. Thus, so far as the parties were concerned, Tilton failed to get his damages and Beecher failed of a legal vindication. But in view of the fact that Mr. Tilton's chief lawyer and counsel, the venerable Wm. A. Beach, put on record before he died his belief in the ab- solute innocence of Mr. Beecher, and said con- cerning him, " 1 felt as if we were a pack of hounds endeavoring to pull down a noble lion ; " and in view of the further fact that the world from end to end long since took him by the hand and welcomed him as a favored father, brother and son, it would seem as though this letter written by Mr. Beecher in 1874 ought to be permanently recorded for the comfort of his friends and the information of the world : * " I do not purpose at this time a detailed exam- ination of the remarkable statement of Theodore Tilton, made before the Committee of Investiga tion, and which appeared in the Brooklyn Arons of July 21, 1874. I recognize the many reasons which make it of transcendent importance to myself, the church, and the cause of public mo- rality, that I shall give a full answer to the charges against me. But, having requested the Com- mittee of Investigation to search this matter to the bottom, it is to them that I must look for my vindication. But I cannot delay for an hour to HENRY WARD BEECHER. 451 defend the reputation of Mrs. Elizabeth R. Tilton, upon whose name, in connection with mine, her husband has attempted to pour shame. One less deserving of such disgrace I never knew. From childhood, she has been under my eye, and since reaching womanhood she has had my sincere ad- miration and affection. I cherish for her a pure feehng, such as a gentleman might honorably offer to a Christian woman, and which she might receive and reciprocate without moral scruple. I reject with indignation every imputation which reflects upon her honor or my own. My regard for Mrs. Tilton was perfectly well known to my family. When serious difficulties sprang up in her household, it was to my wife that she resorted for counsel ; and both of us, acting from sympathy, and, as it subsequently appeared, without full knowledge, gave unadvised counsel which tended to harm. "I have no doubt that Mr. Tilton found that his wife's confidence and reliance upon my judg- ment had greatly increased, while his influence had diminished, in consequence of a marked change in his religious and social views which were taking place during those years. Her mind was greatly exercised lest her children should be harmed by views which she deemed vitally false and dangerous. I was suddenly and rudely aroused to the reality of impending danger by the disclosure of domestic distress, of sickness 462 HEiNKY WARD BEECIIER. perhaps unto death, of the likelihood of separa- tion and the scattering of a family, every member of which I had tenderly loved. The effect upon me of the discovery of the state of Mr. Tilton's feelings, and the condition of his family, surpassed in sorrow and excitement anything that I had ever experienced in my life. That my presence, influ- ence and counsel had brought to a beloved family sorrow and alienation, gave (in my then state of mind) a poignancy to my suffering which I hope no other man may ever feel. Kven to be sus- pected of having offered, under the privileges of a peculiarly sacred relation, an indecorous word to a wife and mother, could not but deeply wound any one who is sensitive to the honor of woman- hood. There are peculiar reasons for alarm, in this case, on other grounds, inasmuch as I was then subject to certain malignant rumors, and a flagrant outbreak in this family would bring upon them an added injury derived from these shameless false- hoods. " Believing at the time that my presence and counsels had tended, however unconsciously, to produce a social catastrophe, represented as im- minent, I gave expression to my feelings in an interview with a mutual friend, not in cold and cautious and self-defending words, but eagerly, taking blame upon myself, and pouring out my heart to my friend in the strongest language, over- burdened with the exaggerations of impassioned HENRY WARD BEECHER. 453 sorrow. Had I been the evil man Mr. Tilton now represents, I should have been calmer and more prudent. It was my horror of the evil im- puted that filled me with morbid intensity at the very shadow of it. Not only was my friend a fifected generously, but he assured me that such expres- sions, if conveyed to Mr. Tilton, would soothe wounded feelings, allay anger, and heal the whole trouble. He took down sentences and fragments of what 1 had been saying, to use them as a me- diator. A full statement of the circumstances under which this memorandum was made I shall give to the investigating committee. "That these apologies were more than ample to meet the facts of the case is evident, in that they were accepted, that our intercourse resumed its friendliness, that Mr. Tilton subsequently rati- fied it in writing, and that he has continued for four years, and until within two weeks, to live with his wife. Is it conceivable, if the original charge had been what it is now alleged, that he would have condoned the offence, not only with the mother of his children, but with him whom he believed to have wronged them ? The absurdity as well as falsity of this story is apparent, when it is considered that Mr. Tilton now alleges that he carried this guilty secret of his wife's infidelity for six months locked up in his own breast, and that he then divulged it to me only that there might be a reconciliation with me ! Mr. Tilton 454 HENRY WARD HKECHER. has since, in every form of lang. ige, and to a multitude of witnesses, orally, in written state- ments, and in printed documents, declared his faith in his wife's purity. After the reconciliation of Mr. Tilton with me, every consideration of (propriety and honor demanded that the family trouble should be kept in that seclusion which domestic affairs have a right to claim as a sanc- tuary; and to that seclusion it was determined that it should be confined. " Every line and word of my private and con- fidential letters which have been published is in harmony with the statements which I now make. My published correspondence on this subject comprises but two elements — the expression of my grief, and that of my desire to shield the honor of a pure and innocent woman. I do not propose to analyze and contest at this time the extraor- dinary paper of Mr. Tilton; but there are two allegations which I cannot permit to pass without special notice. They refer to the only two inci- dents which Mr. Tilton pretends to have witnessed personally — the one an alleged scene in my house while looking over engravings, and the other a chamber-scene in his own house. His statements concerning these are absolutely false. Nothing of the kind ever occurred, nor any semblance of any such thing. They are now brought to my notice for the first time. "To every statement which connects me dis- HENRY WARD BEECHER. 455 honorably with Mrs. Elizabeth R. Tilton, or which in any wise would impugn the honor and purity of this beloved Chn:>tian woman, I give the most explicit, comprehensive and solemn denial. " Henry Ward Bekcher." That was a memorable six months in the his- tory of Brooklyn, a terrible ordeal in the life of Plymouth Church, and a final test of the greatness, the goodness of Henry Ward Beecher. The points made by his enemies, ex parte, had a superficial countenance of candor, but they were easily put to the blush when confronted with fact and with years of living having direct bearing upon them. As for instance, with inconceivable meanness two men, one a husband, claiming to have been wronged, the other a self-styled mutual friend, to whom had been confided sundry correspondence, gave to the world a vast array of letters written by Mr. Beecher. Knowing full well that those letters bore the imprint of his never-changing nature, packed with sentiment, efflorescent with illustration, unique in vocabulary, they thought to convict him from his own mouth, instead of which, like a boomerang, they turned to aid in confirming the good opinion his friends and fel- low-citizens ever entertained. Elsewhere in this volume will be found letters written during a period of forty years to his most r, ' ''l 1 ^'fi 456 HENRY WARD BEECKER. intimate friends, wi'cten in times of gladness from the very mountain-top of prosperity, written in times of weariness from the very vale of mental and physical trouble. They too are packed with sentiment. They too give evidence of his extraordinary and pe- culiar vocabulary, and are as brightly garlanded with choice illustration drawn from the heavens, fiom the earth, from the verdure-clad fields, from the golden granaries of the West, from the heart of society, from the progress of art and science, from everything which human nature teaches, showing that it was his continuous habit so to think and so to write. The record need not be b'urdened wi'h further illustration of this peculiar- ity. Fortunate was it for him then, and equally so now, that his letters to men, to women, to children, to physicians, to lawyers, to statesmen, are preserved. His letters are no more like those written by ordinary men than he was like ordintiry men. During all that period of prostration, of sus- pense, of uncertain cy, Mr. Reecher preached reg.:1arly, effectively and with great popularity. Not one of his significant friends, not one mem- ber of his church, not one comrade along any of the many paths of life he tr'^'- desertvid him. En- vious pulpits — for strange as it may seem envy stands in die pulpit occasionally — tried now and then to injure him, but there was no response A^- •«.«.• '3t' . iii^^ii&i«&£iB HENRY WARD BEECHER. 457 m from the pews ; and no greater storm of indigna- tion was ever known in any city of civilization tiian that which burst upon the heads of sundry clergymen in the city of Brooklyn, who, after years of toady istic friendship, deemed this trying episode in Mr. Beecher's life a fit opportunity to elevate themselves at his expense. About this *^*me one of the greatest compli- ments paid to this object of universal compli- ment was an invitation by the theological faculty of Yale College to lecture before the students in the theologic course for three consecutive years. In many respects his lectures before young men in Yale College are the best illustration of Mr. Beecher's many-sidedness that are preserved in print. Learning, thought, wit, humor, sentiment, logic, all found (hoicest opportunity, depicting in their spontaneous outcome and in their symmetric whole the man and the preacher, the student and the orator, in such a glaring light of towering pre- eminence as to warrant a letter signed by Leonard Bacon, Samuel Harris, George E, Day, James M. Hoppin. George P. Fisher and Timothy Dwight to Mr. Beecher, expressing to him their high ep.tl- mation of the views which they give lo eloquence in general, and to that eloquence in particular which seeks to save men by the exposition and application of the Gospel, for their stimulating and inspiring effect on the hearers, and for the high ideal which they hold up. 458 HENRY WARD BEECHER. But this was not all. All men appeared to seek out opportunities to do him honor. Under the guidance and general management of Major James B^ Pond, a firm friend and substantial ally, Mr. Beecher made two trips through the country as far as California, lec- turing everywhere to audiences that were limited only by the capacity of the house. Receptions were everywhere extended him. Entertainments of various nature were gotten up to do him honor. Money flowed in upon him like water, so that he was enabled to complete the purchase of his property in Peekskill and erect a house so large and so grand that it became necessary immedi- ately after his death, while he yet lay in a tem- porary tomb in Greenwood, to place it upon the market, as no one of his heirs was in position to maintain it in the style and with the expense its builder and original owner intended. People marvelled at his vitality. The grand old man was much upon the street, where everybody knew him. He had a smile for the humblest and a cordial greeting for the poor- est. Rank and station counted nothing with him, and in every element he seemed to grow sturdier day after day. Even his weaknesses, if the expression may be used, grew with his growth. He was the weakest man on earth in the pres- ence of an enemy. Not an enemy to fight, for m. s to eral firm two , lec- lited were s of onor. at he f his large medi- tem- n the on to ise its treet, ile for poor- him, urdier h nay be e pres- rlit, for HENRY WARD BEECHER. 461 then no man was more manly. He could fi^^ht the enemies of his country, he could meet face to face a brutal mob intent upon destroying one of God's humblest creatures, he could assault with the potency of a battering-ram an evil or an in- jury menacing others, and physical fear was an element of which he had not the faintest concep- tion. But there were men and women by the score who used him, who deceived him, who mal- treated him, who backbit him, and toward those men and women he had no more power of re- venge, of returning evil for evil, than he would have had in the presence of an oak whose tower- ing height he might desire to lower or wrench its roots from the depths beneath the soil. " Let a man do an injury to Beecher," said one of his friendly critics, " and he makes a friend of him for life." " Beecher," said another, " would go a thousand miles to help a man who has done him harm." And it was true. Many of his friends, his best advisers, thought he carried tha: idea too far. and later, immedi- ately preceding his death, a public reception hav- ing been tendered him by the mayor and Com- mon Council of the city of Brooklyn, a friend said tc him, "What a splendid triumph over Doc- tor that will be." Mr. Beecher looked at him for a moment and quietly said, " That settles it: I shall decline the rece^t'on." il i!i 462 ITF.XRV W.'RD P.FFCHER. Alul he (lid. And, by the way, that is a capital ilhistration of Beecher. It cannot be shown by che record of a memory, of an act, of a written or printed utterance, that Henry Ward Beecher ever returned evil for evil. Here was an opportunity for him, the foremost citizen of the Republic, to stand judged by the jury of the vicinage! Here was an opportunity for him to accept, not to seek, but to accept a proffered garland from his friends and fellow-citi- zens who sought to do him honor, so that he and his could point, so long as printed page endures, to the official record, that in the city of his home, where for forty years he had stood far in the van of the entire people, he was justified, he was ap- plauded, he was complimented, he was congratu- lated, he was thanked ; and simply because, in the m'nds of some, that would be regarded as a re- buke to a man once closer to him than a brother, but who in later life did all in his Christian power to undermine his fnend, and by wink and innuendo and slur and suggestion to injure him, he declined, and with graceful recognition of the grateful com- pliment, sent word by a disappointed committee that he would wait for a more convenient season. There are in New York «;undry societies who perpetuate certain memories, who celebrate cer- tain anniversaries. Among these are the New England Society, St. Patrick's Society, St. David's HENRY WARD BEECHER. 463 Society, and several club organizations whose an- nual dinners are occasions of festivity and of jolli- fication. At these times Pienry Ward Beecher was always the guest above all others. On one occasion, when the Press Club were favored by the presence of General Grant, General vSherman and other men known throughout the world, the reception given Henry Ward Beecher was so significant as to be the marked event of the even- ing. A year or two prior to his death, at a din- ner given by St. Patrick's Society, he entered the room late in the evening, when, as though his coming had been the event looked forward to by every person present, the entire company rose and cheered while he was conducted down the long line to the head of the table. He was the favored guest always at the dinners of the New England Society, at the meetings of the Union League Club, and on many occasions memorable in the social, literary and associated life of New York and Brooklyn. Why was this ? Because he was always ready, hearty, sincere, with a purpose intelligently put, intelligently car- ried oni:. Perhaps the catholicity of his thought was never better illustrated than by the readiness with which he affiliated with i 'n whose beliefs he did nor share. One of tlje most learned prelates of the Catholic i^ i' ill! 464 HENRY WARD BEECHER. •If Church in Brooklyn was the Rev. Or. Constantine Pise, a venerable man, so good as to warrant the affection in which he was held by the members of his flock and the citizens generally. He was a scholar of unusual attainments. In his early life he had been secretary of Charles Carroll of Car- rollton, and later on, full of years and churchly honors, he was assigned to the pastorate of St. Charles Borromeo, on Sidney Place, in Brooklyn. The little church was a great favorite with young people of various denominations. The music was excellent and Father Pise's talks were always so kindly and helpful, simple withal, as to draw to him men and women of other faiths. A young friend of Plymouth's pastor who had been brought up in Plymouth Sunday-school and Plymouth Church, fond of n.usic and rather impressionable otherwise, was a favored guest in Father Pise's house. Knowing Mr. Beecher intimately, and loving him sincerely, he told him often about the good p.iest, as he told the priest about his friend and pastor of Plymouth Church. A mutually ex- pressed desire to meet resulted in Mr. Beecher's going one Sunday afternoon to vespers. The audience was not very large, but the ser- vice was unusually impressive. The music was delightful and Father Pise, not knowing who sat among his congregation, spoke words of tender affection, addressed more espe- cially to the young. Mr. Beecher was profoundly ■nmv i' I ji HENRY WARD BEECIfKR. 467 affected, and after vespers went with his young friend to the robing-room, where he was intro- duced to Father Pise, who welcomed him with unaffected cordiahty. Mr. Beecher was then in the prime of manhood, full of mental and bodily strength, while the aged priest, whose mind was clear, knew that he was fading from the earth. They were glad to see each other. Each recognized a kindred spirit ; each felt the influence of the sentiment that pervaded that in- cense-laden atmosphere. And although their meetings thereafter were casual and upon the street, or in the post-office, neither forgot the other, and when Father Pise died no more loving tribute, no more Christian courtesy was offered than fell from the fraternal lips of the pastor of Plymouth Church. During the progress of "the ordeal," when, with brazen effrontery, the assailers of his name, the defamers of his character stared the world in the face, most touching, most cheering, most helpful letters came from high authorities in the Catholic Church, by whom and among whom he was regarded as a useful man and as a Christian gentleman. On the night of October 30, 1880, Mr. Beecher and Colonel Robert J. Ingersoll spoke on the same platform in the Academy of Music, at Brooklyn, at a Republican mass-meeting, when the great preacher introduced the great orator 28 %: ^J ■,%, ^h IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) // ^ V fA f/. I.G I.I 1.25 1.4 la iM ilM |||j|Z2 ^ M I™ 1.6 v: % ^^ V S!S w Photographic Sciences Corporation n WEST MAIN STREET WEBSTER. N ' 14580 (716) 871-4503 468 HENRY WARD BEECHER. and freethinker with a warmth and earnestness of compliment that brought the 6,000 lookers-on to their feet to applaud. But when the expounder of the Gospel of Christ took the famous atheist by the hand and shook it fervently, saying the while that he respected and honored him for the honesty of his convictions and his splendid labors for patriotism and for the country, the enthusiasm knew no bounds and the great building trembled and vibrated with the storm of applause. The celebration ot Mr. Beecher's seventieth birthday at the Academy of Music, Brooklyn, June 25, 1883, was a wonderful manifestation of his popularity in the city of his adoption. It was not an ovation from a mere congregation to whom his labors and his eloquence had endeared him ; it was a demonstration of a whole city. From the parquet to the gayly frescoed roof of the building the Academy was packed. Not even at the great political gatherings which this structure has witnessed has the multitude been greater. Men of all classes, all parties and nearly all religious denominations joined in the jubilee. In Mr. Beecher's address he said : " If there is any one 'thing that is dearer to my heart than another, it is the belief in an immanent God, in all men and in all things ; and what vanity it would be for me to stand here and say that the things of which I have been permitted to be a spectator were mine. They are the footsteps of III! HENRY WARD BEECHER. 469 God. This is the progress that long ago has been predicted and of which we have seen but the opening chapters. No man is great of him- self. No man is great except by that open chan- nel in him through which God can speak or act. And whoever says anything that shall live for the sake of humanity borrows it * it is not his own. Whoever does anything that is worthy of his time and of his nation, it is God that does it. Work out your own salvation, saith God to the individual and the race, with fear and trembling and earnestness, for it is God that worketh in you to will and do of His good pleasure. When I look down, therefore, into the future, my hope and my confidence is that the religion is leading men on. My trust and my unshaken hope for the future is that God reip^ns and the whole earth shall see His salvation. I accept then, in some sort this gathering to-night, not as testimony to me, but as testimony to my Lord and to my Saviour." It has been repeatedly said that Mr. Beecher was a many-sided man. The story of his life thus far told abundantly justifies that, and yet there are other lines of industry and attainment in which he was conspic- uous. Perhaps nothing more significant of his sympathy with the better ongoings of society can be shown than the promptness with which he ac- cepted an offer of chaplaincy made by the Thir- 470 HENRY ?/ARD BEECHER. teenth Regiment of the National Guard, through its commander, Colonel Austen. In January, 1878, the tender was made and accepted. As usual, Mr. Beecher's action was canvassed and criticized in Plymouth Church, whereupon at a Friday evening prayer-meeting he saici, " I did not accept, as you may readily suppose, because I had nothing to do, and because I wa\nted to fill up vacant time. It was not because I had any special military gifts, or that any special military procliv- ities led me to delight in such a position. I was as much surprised as any one could be when a request was made by Colonel Austen that I should become the chaplain of the Thirteenth Regiment, and I was informed that it was the unanimous wish of the officers of the regiment that I should ac- cept the place. And the first impulse I felt on receiving the invitation was to say no, but the second impulse was in the nature of a query, whether there was not some duty here. The question was not exactly ' Should you accept the place ? ' but rather, ' Why should you not accept it ?' Is it not eminently wise that a body of young men, organized as a force of citizen soldiers, should have a chaplain ? In an organization of this kind, made up of young men exclusively, is there not a peculiar kind of peril ? Is not a body of this kind, resembling in some respects a social club, unrestrained, and perhaps uncivilized, by the pres- m ! HENRY WARD BEECHER, 471 hrough ide and nvassed upon at , " 1 did ecause I ;o fill up y special procliv- . I was when a I should egiment, ous wish lould ac- I felt on but the a query, re. The :cept the )t accept of young rs, should this kind, there not ly of this cial club, the pres- ence of women, fraught with great danger? Is it not liable to become a veritable maelstrom in which young men may be sucked down to de- struction ? It seems to me there is no question that they should be surrounded by some kind of moral influence, and it seemed to be a pertinent question, whether, if some one should respond, I was not the one to do so. In my case, there seemed to be special reasons why I should re- spond. I was always among the foremost in the matters that led to the war, and was forward in upholding the various measures of the war, and it hardly seemed wise or proper for me to turn away from the citizen soldiery after they had done their duty in that war, thus tacitly saying that they were of no further consequence to the na- tion or to the community. And even more than all this was the consideration that many of the young men of the regiment are members of my own flock here. And if It is wise and prudent to have a citizen soldiery, properly equipped and ready at all times to serve as a background of support for the civil authorities, it is certainly well to have them fortified and strengthened by all the good influences it is possible to throw around them. I go not for pleasure, but hoping to do them good. I want to help them as soldiers, as well as individuals, for I don't like to have any- thing to do with a thing that doesn't go. The regiment has entered on a new life, and it will be i K 472 HENRY WARD BEECHER. rendered more prosperous than ever. At any rate, I hope you will have its well-being at heart, if for no other sake, at least for my sake, for I should not like to do anything in which I should not have the prayers and sympathy of my people." In a formal record, printed in the North Ameri- can Review, Colonel Austen pays high compli- ment to his chaplain, who it appears made his first parade on the occasion of the dedication of the Martyr's Tomb at Fort Green, Brooklyn, on the 30th of May, 1878. "He had been invited," says Colonel Austen, " and an order forwarded ; to which this jovial reply was received : " * Brooklyn, No. i 24 Columbia Heights. *'^My dear Colonel: I will be present, as re- quested, fully armed and equipped, as becomes a chaplain of the Old Thirteenth. Yours ever, " ' Henry Ward Beecher, "'Captain Secular and Chaplain Spiritual of the Old Thirteenth — God bless her.' ■I ■ 1 1 i 1 fc^^_^ _. _ '• Mr. Beecher had secured a spirited horse, which I had been advised was a Kentucky thor- oughbred, and which he proposed to ride. In re- ply to a suggestion made by me that he might have trouble in the control of so spirited a steed, Mr. Beecher said, ' I can stand any demonstration as long as the horse enjoys himself.' 1 '^ 1 f 1 1 1 11 1 ;ta 1 i «l ■m] ifii MR. BKECHER TAKING THK OATH AS (^HAPLAIN. (Thirteenth R.t;'t. N <;. S. N. Y., M;ii.:h i, 1878.) HENRY WARD BEECHER. 475 mm ' "The order to march was given, the drums rolled out their first notes, and the horse, unused to such martial sounds, reared and plunged so that I made an effort to have the music stopped. But Mr. Beecher himself immediately discounte- nanced it. The Plymouth pastor firmly held his seat, his horsemanship exciting general admira- tion. He soon brought the steed under complete control, and, in passing me, on the way to his place in the staff line, he said, quietly, ' I guess this horse was unaware of the fact that I had my training in Indiana. Out there, when I went to visit my parishioners, in my younger days, I didn't follow the roads, and the rail-fences didn't stand in my way. The horse knows all that now, and will march in line in >roper order.* " Our chaplain was right. His bold Kentucky thoroughbred had been instantly and utterly sub- dued. Not once again did the animal leave the line ; but the fire of his eye showed that it was the master hand alone that held him under control. " On the march the rain began to fall, and, ap- prehensive of Mr. Beecher's health, I urged him to leave the line and return home. 'Are you going to leave ? ' he inquired ; and when I re- plied in the negative he said : ' A soldier desert on his first parade ? Oh, no ! I never do any- thing by halves. I have enlisted for the war, and my maiden battle must be fought out, even if the big drum has bursted ! ' 476 HENRY WARD BEECIIER. ■^ i ! 1 ! ' " Mr. Beecher continued his interest in the regi- ment and suggested a visit to Montreal, which was made, he being in full uniform and the cen- tral object of interest. 'While there,' says Colo- nel Austen, ' a banquet was tendered to the offi- cers at the Windsor Hotel by General Smyth, who presided with the Marquis of Lome. In the early part of the evening I had been requested to say to Mr. Beecher that he would be called upon to respond to the toast of the ' City of Brooklyn.' Later in the progress of the banquet, with an uneasy expression of countenance, Mr. Beecher beckoned to me, and I went to his chair. He whispered, • Colonel, I do not like that toast and will not speak to it. Brooklyn is the best city in the world to live in, and to hail from, but to be the subject of an international toast is not hot enough or brown enough. It will hardly melt butter enough to make it taste good to our Canadian friends.' ** I reported this to the Marquis and General Smyth, and they said that the Dominion officers would not be satisfied if they could not hear Mr. Beecher speak, So, without Mr. Beecher's knowl- edge, it was quietly arranged with the United States consul-general, Mr. Smith, to whom had been assigned the toast, 'The President of the United States,' and who had said that he could not do full justice to his subject, that he would officially acknowledge the compliment and then IFKNRY WARD HKKCIIKR. 477 call on Mr. Beecher. This he did, concluding a most eloquent address by saying : * I ask Mr. Beecher to join with me in acknowledging the compliment to the President of the country we love so well.' Mr. Beecher had not been con- sulted in this flank movement, as he afterwards termed it ; but, with not a moment for prepara- tion, he held the assembly spellbound by his words for more than three-quarters of an hour. In the course of his remarks, he referred to our late President as follows : • Pour years is not more than sufficient to learn how to govern, and an- other four only gives one an opportunity of dis- playing some k.iowledge in the management of governing. When Mr. Lincoln was elected President, it was on the eve of the greatest civil war that the world has ever known. It burst out like the Southern tornado, and the whole country leaped into war, and along one thousand miles of coast its desolating ravages were made fa- miliar. It seemed as though Lincoln should have a second term in which he should not be dis- tracted. But it pleased God to give him the crown of martyrdom and take him out of his troubles. " * Mr. Johnson, who succeeded him, was a man of honest intentions. But he was a man too lit- eral and too obstinate, and did not know how to change front on the battle-field, nor adapt himself to the soil over which he marched ; so he set him- 478 HENRY WARD BEECHER. I self against his party and went out of office — more welcome than when he went in. " 'General Grant has been called a man of luck. He was lucky in his father and mother, lucky in the body and the mind that were given him as a birthright. For two terms General Grant suc- ceeded in having good luck, and now, having gone abroad from his country, he has good luck abroad, and if the cheers with which he has been greeted could be linked together, it would encir- cle the globe In one polyglot cheer, for no man has succeeded so well in cheers, in the circumnavi- gation of the globe, as General Grant. Contrary to the course of the sun, he rose in the West. "'After Grant, President Hayes was called to the chair as First Magistrate. His task of peace has not been an easy one ; his, no bed of down. He has lain upon the thorns, but with great sagacity, great patience, great gentleness and gentlemanli- ness. He bids fair to come out, in the judgment of the whole nation, second to no single President they have had in the last forty years. The United States desires to express, and upon every occasion does express, the mighty principle of good-will towards all nations of the earth.' " Mr. Beecher returned home with the regiment, and I had reserved a state-room for him in the officers' palace-car. When shown to his travelling quarters, he said, ' No, sir, none of that for me. Too old a traveller. That is over the wheels. I HENRY WARD BEECIIER. Ml 479 wish to sleep, if you noisy fellows will permit such an idea to be entertained. Give me the upper berth in a centre section ; they are the best — more elasticity to the motion, and better ventilation than the lower.' He retired as he desired, and crawled to the upper berth with j^^reater agility than many of the younger officers." "So general was the feeling of rejoicing in Mr. Beecher's acceptance of this position, that the desire to join the regiment found practical evi- dence in the fact that, while in 1879 it had but 610 men, in 1880 there appeared on the rolls a total of 718. At the Centennial celebration of the foundation of Boston, in September, 1880, Mr. Beecher accompanied the regiment, and in Octo- ber of the same year, having been invited to ap- pear at the review before Governor Cornell, he sent the following characteristic reply : m 'W%\ " * Brooklyn, N. Y., No. i 24 Columbia Heights, '"October 8, 1880. " 'My dear Colonel: I absent ! sooner the sun by day, the moon by night ! Perish commerce, perish agriculture, and even mining, but spare the glo- rious Old Thirteenth. No politics, no election, no ecclesiastical meetings shall hinder me. Even sickness must stand back, or, if it visits, I will come in an ambulance, vial and syringe in hand. I feel ashamed of you that you should have thought it necessary to plead the case. Next I 480 HENRY WARD BEECHER. •^ 1 1 shall expect a warm appeal to eat my dinner, to kiss my wife and children, to love my country, or to vote the Republican ticket. •' ' Your warlike chaplain, •' ' Henry Ward Beecher.' "The regiment paraded on this occasion second in strength only to the Seventh, such had been the remarkable sfrowth of the command in two years. Mr. Beecher's presence was the occasion of a marked ovation on the entire march, and his spirits were of the best order. Returning on the ferry-boat, we were all placed, mounted, on the forward deck, my back toward the front of the boat, but my face to Mr. Beecher. He was en- tertaining us all with bright sallies of wit, when suddenly he said, 'Come, Colonel, turn about; back your horye in here with us. Remember, back to the wind means face to the coffin.' " Later in the season," continued Colonel Aus- ten, " I conceived the ide? of having General Grant review the regiment, keeping up * the boom,' as it was termed among the boys. I took Mr. Beecher into my confidence, and he was to use his discretion as to how it might be brought about. In a few weeks, the plan bore fruit in the following letter, which is not dated, but written, I believe, in the latter days of November, i88o: " ' No. 1 24 Columbia Heights, Sunday. "'My dear Colonel: Grant readily said that he HENRY WARD BKECHER. 481 would review Thirteenth some time to be agreed upon after the holidays. He required no persua- sion, asked no questions, but instantly answered my request by saying, " I should be happy to do it." So, then, you've got another lever to pry up the regiment with. I attribute his whole gracious disposition to the fact that he had been to Plymouth Church and heard a good sermon. " ' Yours, in the bonds of chaplaincy, "'Henry Ward Beecher.' "The formal invitation was extended, and the following reply received : "•New York City, December 2, 1880. " ' Colonel David E. Austen : ^^^ Dear Colonel: I accept your invitation to re- view the Thirteenth Regiment on Wednesday, the 1 2th January, 1881. Very truly yours, "'U. S. Grant.' " Mr. Beecher paraded with his fellow-officers. After the review, there followed a working-drill of the regiment. An effort to induce General Grant to address the regiment proved futile, and he retired from the floor with the brief remark : ' Colonel, you have given me the best drill I have ever seen, and I am not in the habit of saying a thing like that without reason.' "The following letter refers to a visit of the 482 1T£NP WARD 15EECHER. i regiment to Yorktown. Mr. Beecher did net go. His letter touches also a rumor that I had resigned, by reason of supposed displeasure in connection with a drill. " ' Brooklyn, i 24 Columbia Heights, "'April 6, 1 88 1. " 'Dear Colonel: As to Yorktown, don't know. Am not very good at a spree. The boys who go with you will not need a chaplain for that. Couldn't have come last Monday night. [This referred to an entertainment at the armory.] Could not have danced if I had come. Some- body said that things were badly managed at one of your late show-drills, and that you were re- signed. Howls that? Resignation is a Christian grace. A woman, having lost her babe and giving way to excessive grief, was told by her pastor that it was the Lord's doing, and that she ought to be resigned. " I am resigned," she said, " but I think I ought to show a proper resentment." Is that your case ? '"Henfy Ward Beecher.' " Replying to an invitation to be present at certain athletic sports at the armory, and to a proposed date, he wrote : "'Brooklyn, 124 Columbia Heights, " ' December 2, 1 88 1 . ***My dear Colonel: I find, alas, the whole HENRY WAkI) BEKCMKk. 4fii\ week is engaged ! Out of town when the '* Tugs " were to come. So I must say, halt. But now for the new formation, so to say ; I have no open date before December 29. Will that do ? " * Your apostolic chaplain, " ' H. W. Beecher.' "An effort was made early in 1881 to secure the engagement of Dodworth's band at Brighton Beach, in order to keep everything regimental as much before the public as possible. Mr. Beecher had been asked to interest himself for Dodworth with some of the influential directors of the road, some of whom were attendants of his church. In connection with this matter, he wrote the fol- lowing characteristic letter : " * Brooklyn, No. i 24 Columbia Heights, "'January 24, 1881. ''^ My dear Colonel: I do not think the band matter can be made to march. Brighton Beach folks are on their ear. They are going to have Levy, and their head is sot o\ having a foi-eign band, and they are in a tangle of negotiations. From the drift of thinors, as near as I can make it out, we shall not have much of a chance, if any. If being sorry would remedy the matter, tears should flow from both my eyes, until Jeremiah should envy me, who sighed, " Oh, that my head were a fountain of tears ! " " ' With captainly regards, •' • Henky Ward Beecker.' " 484 HENRY WARD BEECHER. In this connection it will be of interest to re- cord that Company G of the Thirteenth, which had been organized inside the walls of Plymouth Church, paid the last tribute of respect to Mr. Beecher's memory by acting as Guard of Honor over his remains. X. A RETROSPECTIVE INTERVIEW. IN addition to the great demonstrations made in the Brooklyn Academy of Music on the occasion of Mr. Beecher's seventieth anniversary, the press of the country paid him unusual honor, and in significant interviews he expressed him- self fully concerning men, measures and himself during the early part of his career. In the course of a long conversation with the writer the follow- ing occurred: " Mr. Beecher, you have been at work quite fifty years ? " " Yes, more than that." " When did you first speak and on what subject?" "A little after 1830, when I was in Amherst College. My father, Lyman Beecher, was an en- thusiastic colonizationist then. I belonged to the Athenian Society in college, and one of our early debates turned on the Colonial Society. Garrison had begun to attack that society, and, knowing that my father was a colonizationist, I naturally would have sided that way, but in the distribution of parts I was drafted to attack that society and a» (485) 486 HENRY WARD BEECHER. defend Garrison, or the anti-slavery movement. I had very able men on the other side. Well, when I came to think the matter over, 1 found myself drawn, not as a mere debater, but sym- pathetically and with conviction on the anti- slavery side ; and I read up on it and studied it all around, and when I came to make my speech, I made a strong one on that side. That gave me my first impulse in that direction, and it was one that remained permanent and grew deeper and stronger to the end of my life. After I left college, 1 went immediately to Cincinnati, in the fall of 1834. When I was in Cincinnati, Charles Hammond was the editor of the Cincinnati Gazette, one of the ablest men in the West, and the Cincinnati Gazette was by all odds — head and shoulders — the leading Whig newspaper. Henry Clay used, before any important movement, to consult with Charles Hammond." " Did you ever meet Henry Clay, and hear speak ? " " Yes, I thought he was the dullest old fellow I ever heard. It was at a barbecue in Indian- apolis. He was jaded and tired. He was not wound up, and had nobody to stick a pin in him." " Do you think he was an eloquent man ? " " Yes ; if you take in hie personal magnetism, and the adaptation of himself to the current of thoughts and feelings that were existing. Henry Clay was not a man that, out of his own day, was HENRY WARD BEECHFR. 487 or ever will be so great as he was in his own age. ** He was not as great a man as Webster ? " " No, nor as Calhoun ; but a man that made pas- sionate friends and a natural-born leader of men." " Magnetic ? " " To the last degree, and he had all the intui- tions and that union of affectionate blandishment and indignation and threat to him. He could strike or he could caress, and with either was very powerful." "You adhered to your anti-slavery sentiment in the West ? " " Yes, although I saw that to do so was exceed- ingly unpopular in Cincinnati. It would alienate everybody that I knew there, and that, among other reasons, confirmed me in my tendencies, because I have always had a kind of irresistible impulse to defend the weak, especially when I saw they were trodden down by men of influence and power ; to throw myself into the rescue of the wronged was as strong in me as life itself. So, when the mob rose in Cincinnati and destroyed Dr. Bailey's newspaper — Bailey was afterward editor of the Neiv Era in Washington, in which Mrs. Stowe's 'Uncle Tom's Cabin' appeared — when the mob rose and broke in and scattered his type, dragged his press down the main street and threw it into the Ohio river, and once again the riotous spirit foamed over and they threatened 488 HENRY WARD BEECHER. l! i to shoot down the colored people in Cincinnati, and had got to that point that the mayor called for special policemen to protect the city and the negro quarters — I was sworn in as a special police- man and I patrolled the streets for two nights armed to the teeth to defend the negroes. In the absence of its editor, who had gone to the Gener- al Assembly in Philadelphia, I had taken the Cin- cinnati Journal, the Presbyterian religious ' new- school ' paper, and was editing it. In this paper I attacked this mob spirit, and with such a vehe- mence, that Charles Hammond put the whole ar- ticle into the Cincinnati Gazette. That was all along the same line of anti-slavery impulse. I then went to Lawrenceburg, twenty miles below Cincinnati, which has this last winter been drowned out by the terrible flood. There was a Presbyterian church there that would seat 150 people. There were twenty members ; one man, and the rest women. With the exception of two, every one was dependent for her livelihood on her industry." "What was your salary there ? " " Four hundred dollars. Two hundred and fifty dollars was paid by the American Home Missionary Society, and the balance was raised by people in my church." " That was the custom, for this society to aid all feeble churches in the West?" "All feeble churches would receive a portion HENRY WARD BEliCIIER. 489 of their salary in that way. The society was or- ganized for that purpose. I do not believe there were in my Synod ten ministers that were not more or less assisted by that society, and now all through the West it is the same thing to-day, away to the Pacific ocean." " The knot of recognized abolitionists in those days was so very small — Mr. Tappan, Mr. Garrison and Mr. Wendell Phillips — that, I suppose, all of necessity were known to you ? " " They were, East, and I went back into Indi- ana as a missionary, and was working among the common people." "And you were on the field where the fight had to come, sooner or later ? " " I was ; and it may interest you to know that among the lecturers was Henry B. Stanton, who had studied theology under my father. After staying for two years and a little over at Law- renceburg, I was called to Indianapolis. This was at the time when the division took place. The Presbyterian Church split on the rock of slavery. Theology was the mere occasion and pretence, but the root of the matter was slavery. The South was largely new school, but the new school of the North was leavened with the anti-slavery tendency to a very great extent, and the under- standing was, as I heard my father state it, that the new-school ministers of the South said to the Presbyterian men: *We will sustain you, as ^lill 1 1 1 1 J 490 HENRY WARD BEECHER. against the new school of the North, if you will see to it that the Presbyferian Church at large does not meddle with the question of slavery in the South.' It was a league , it was an understood thing. It was carried out. The Southern Pres- byterians, all for the sake of slavery, consented to uphold the hands of the old school Princeton, and the new school of the North was split off from them and organized by themselves, and they were, especially in the West, very generally anti- slavery. I don't know one man in the Synod of Indiana who was not an open and avowed anti- slavery man." " This was about when ? ** "About 1840-41. I went to Indianapolis, preaching in the upper hall or room of a little brick academy, which would not hold much over a hundred people, while the church was building. It is now owned by Governor English." "Well, what then?" " After a year we were directed by the Synod to preach once a year on the duties of the church to the enslaved." "Did you doit?" "Yes, I waited until the United States Federal Court came there, with Judge McLean as the pre- siding judge; and when all of our State courts, Supreme Court and Circuit, were in session, and the legislature was convened — so that all lawyers and public officers, men of every kind, thronged ■II HENRY WARD PEECHER. 491 the city — I announced that I should preach on slavery. In the morning; I discussed the nature of Hebrew slavery and the way in which it ceased. In the afternoon I preached on American slavery and the duty of the American church on that subject. Well, you may depend upon it, it was a bomb thrown, and they went streaming back to the hotel, and when they sat down to dinner, some one said, 'Judge McLean, what do you think of that? ' 'Well,' said he, ' I think if every minister in the United States would be as faith- ful, it would be a great advance in getting this question settled.' Well, that settled it. It gave the cue to the lawyers ; they on the whole sympa- thized too, and the members of the legislature, and the consequence was, that I had preached two flaming sermons with no reaction, by a judicious adaptation to times and circumstances. I sup- pose that was the first anti-slavery sermon that was ever preached in the capital of the State of Indiana." *' To that circumstance you probably owe the reputation which preceded you in New York ? " "Yes." "What did you do here first? " " In the first sermon that I preached on the first Sunday night in the new church, when I had ac- cepted the call and came there in the fall, 1 made a proclamation of my sentiments on the slavery matter, on temperance matters, on war and « 492 HENRY WARD BEECHER. peace, on all those great schemes in which I have had zeal in all my public life, in the most explicit manner. I declared to them that if they contin- ued to attend, or any of them wished to attend my church on the supposition that I was going to be silent or prudentially dumb, I wished to re- move that impression at once, for I intended to be positive, active and energetic on all those sub- jects. In 1847-48-49 I had become well known. My anti-slavery sentiments began to be well known in New York. Upon the establishment of the Indepetident I was invited by Mr. Bowen to furnish 'Star Papers' for the paper. And in those I avowed such anti-slavery sentiments as made it a little uncertain whether the thi je ad- junct editors of the paper, Dr. Leonard Bacon, Dr. Richard S. Storrs, and Dr. Joseph Thompson, of the Broadway Tabernacle, could sustain me. It was a time of very great caution and prudence, but I stuck right at it ! "In 1850, when the controversy came up about Clay's omnibus bill, including the fugitive-slave laws, I was thoroughly roused, and in the pulpit, with my pen, I attacked with the utmost earnest- ness the infamous fugitive-slave bill. It was then that I wrote the article, * Shall we compromise ? ' If any one will compare that article with Mr. Seward's subsequent speech he will find that it was reducing to a mere minimum the article on. 'Shall we compromise?' This article was read HENRY WARD BEECH ER. 493 to John C. Calhoun on his sick-bed by his clerk, and he raised himself up and said : ' Read that article again.' The article was read. ' The man wlio says that is right. Slavery has got to go to the wall. There is no alternative. It is liberty or slavery.' And, then, when Webster made his fatal apostasy on the 7th of March, 1850, I joined with all Northern men of any freedom-loving spirit in denouncing it and in denouncing him. F"orthwith, after a paralysis of a few weeks, his friends determined to save him by getting all the old clergymen, such men as Dr. Spring, Dr. Lord, of Dartmouth, and the Andover professors — the effort was to get every great and influential man in the North to stand up for Webster, and then it was that I flamed. They failed utterly. Professor Woolsey, of New Haven, Dr. Bacon, president of the Williamstown College in Massa- chusetts, and various other most influential men absolutely refused to sustain Webster." "What was the black-list of those days? " "It was about this time, 1850, that the black- list was made in that Castle Garden Union Safety Committee, and connected with that was a black- list that was gotten up of all the merchants that were anti-slavery. It was to be sent all over the South to destroy their custom. Mr. Bowen was, of course, included in that black-list and threat- ened with the loss of all his Southern custom. He came to me and asked me if I would not i;fr 494 HENRY WARD BEECH^R. m i ^H^^^^^^^^^^ft "' •I write a card for him, and I undertook to do it, but my head not running very clear. The only thing I got at, after making three or four different at- tempts, was, ' My goods are for sale, but not my principles,' but I could not lick it into shape, and 1 gave the paper to him and said, 'You must fix it to suit yourself.' He took it to Hiram Barney, and he drew up the card in the shape in which it appeared, including that sentence, which was the snap of the whole thing. About that time came on the Edmeson sisters. Going home one day, I saw an old negro sitting on my outside stone steps. I asked him what he wanted. He said he wanted '^o see Mr. Beecher. I asked him into the house, and then he told me that his two daughters had been sold to a slave-pen to be carried to New Orleans. They were very beautiful girls and their destiny was apparent. He had gone all around among the Methodists, I think, to whom he belonged, and he got sympathy, but no succor; so he called to see if I could ' li do something for him. A meeting was called in the Broadway Tabernacle. I agreed to be there and make a speech. I think of all the meetings that I have attended in my life, for a panic of sympathy, I never saw one that surpassed that. I have seen a great many in my day. An amount of money was subscribed, and they were bought and set free. The mother was a very old woman. She had been a nurse of a great Richmond lawyer ill TAKING SUMMER RECREATION. HENRY WARD BEECIIER. 497 whose name has died out of my memory. He owed his conversion to her. He was famous in the days of Webster. "This takes me down to 1853. Then came the bolt of the elder Van Buren and the Buffalo meeting and platform, which was anti-slavery, and that was really the originating cause of the Re- publican party. The materials were beginning to coalesce which constituted the Republican move- ment, and in 1856 Fremont was nominated as against Buchanan. Well, of course, we felt all aflame. My church voted me all the time that I thought to be required to go out into the com- munity and speak and canvass the State of New York. I went into that canvass, frequently spoke twice and three times a week, having the whole day to myself; that is, making all the neeches that were made. I was sent principally to what we called the Silver Gray districts or counties— - the old-time Whigs that were attempting to run a candidate between Fremont and Buchanan. I generally inade a three hours' speech a day in the open air to audiences of from 8,000 to 10,- 000 people. I felt that it was very likely that 1 should sacrifice my life, or my voice at any rate, but I was willing to lay down either or both of them for that cause." "Whom do you regard as being in those days the most influential leaders of public sentiment, leading the Abolitionists on the one hand and the 498 HENRY WARD BEECHER. better grade of Whigs on the other, the point of focus as Republicans ? " •' Wei'., I think Seward, on the whole. Greeley was off and on. Horace Greeley was one of the ablest advocates in public affairs. When wii^e counsel had laid down a good line, a good plat- form, and Mr. Greeley mounted it in defence, there was no man so able as he, but when the work was not the defence of an agreed-upon plat- form, but the formation of it, he was a very un- wise and uncf tain counsellor. I do not know whether it is v/orth my while to tell the history of one thing that occurred about the time of the war. There was an assembly in a hotel in New York. There were fifty Southern-born officers of our army convened there, after secession was in full swing, to discuss what their duties as offi- cers should be, and the point was this : ' If the South is to be organized into another government, it is perfecdy honorable for us to change our allegiance from the government of the North to the government of the South ; but if that is not to be accepted or tolerated, then we are bound by our oath of allegiance to this government, which has educated us, not to go over to the Southern army.* On this morning appeared in the Tribune that wonderful declaration by Greeley : ' Let the South go ! ' Whereupon these gentlemen, who had said, 'All the South are agreed that there is to be this new government. The Democratic HENRY WARD BEECttfiR. m party of the North, we kiiov/, assents to it, and the only question is, what are the anti-slavery men going to do ? ' — and on that morning came out that declaration of Greeley, who was regarded wrongfully as being the leader of the great anti- slavery movement, and they said, 'That settles it' — and in less than twenty-four hours every mother's son of them but one had left the North and gone pell-mell down South and offered his sword to the Confederates, because the Southern management would give these officers their rank in the order of their application, and it was im- portant that they should get in first and not get near the tail. The last support, therefore, was kicked from under the vessel by a careless foot." " Do you share the belief that was quite gen- eral at the time that Fremont carried Pennsyl- vania ? " " I do." " Do you believe that he was elected Presi- dent?" " I do." •' Do you believe that his inauguration as Presi- dent would have averted a civil war? " " No." " Did you know President Buchanan ? " " No, nothing more than just by sight." " Do you believe him to have been a square man ? " " I believe him to have been a man of honest 600 HENRY WARD BEECHER. intentions, but utterly unfit for the times which found him. He had neither courage nor any commanding discretion." '* How do you regard Douglas ? " " I regard Douglas as a very able man indeed, but dangerous, because I do not think that he acted on great lines, but rather on the inner lines of political expediency." " Do you think he was a thoroughly loyal man ? " " I think he was a thoroughly loyal man." " Do you think the election of President Lin- coln precipitated the Rebellion ? " " Yes." " You knew Lincoln ? " " Very well." *• In a sentence, what do you think of him ? " " I think that Lincoln was to a remarkable de- gree both a statesman and a politician ; that he based his views of expediency on great principles, but that in executing expedient objects he was as shrewd and keen a politician as ever was in Washington. He had a broad sympathy for hu- man nature, and he understood it very well. He was as devoid of personal ambition and selfish- ness as any man of whom we have a record in our history. He was a man who wanted to do that which was right and best for this whole na- tion. South and North, ?nd was willing to go as near to the edge of doubtful expediency as a piWWil HENRY WARD BEECHER. 501 man could go and not go over the precipice, but he saved himself." "Whatever its effect upon the country, don't you think that his death, and its manner, and the time, were a great thing for him in history ? " " Yes ; I think that his coffin was more than the presidential chair. It certainly gave to the whole of his career the influence of a kind of political saintship." " Do you believe that he would have carried out a different policy from that of Johnson ? " " I know that at the time that things were drawing to a consummation he had in an inchoate form the very policy that Johnson undertook to carry out under a change of circumstances. I know it, because the Cleveland letter that I wrote was the result of conferences with Governor An- drew and President Lincoln, just preceding Lin- coln's death, as to what were to be the next com- ing steps after the breaking down of the Rebel- lion ; and at that time, under the circumstances, it seems to me that they had, on the whole, very wise views. It may be said almost in a sentence what their policy was. It was to say to the lead- ing public men of the South : * Gentlemen, you took your section out of the Union ; you must bring it back. We hold you responsible. We will give you all the power necessary to do it. Slavery is gone, and as you went out with those men who have been defeated, now you must come back and we will trust you.' " % 502 HENRY WARD BEECHER. m " Whom did you regard as the significant men in our war — the so-called political generals; that is, men like Butler, whose administrative qualities were called into use, or men like Grant, Sherman, Sheridan, etc. ? " " The West Point men were the ablest and the most efficient by all odds. With one or two ex- ceptions only, were men who became generals from civil life of any great noticeable success. Terry was, and has remained so, a very able de- partment commander, respected by all the army. Butler was not a military man. Every military element in him failed." "What do you think of him as an adminis- trator?" " Under the circumstances, as an administrator he was surpassing. You could not have got a better man for New Orleans. He was in his very element in that place, where his conscience worked in the direction of patriotism with remarkable shrewdness and success." " Did you work for Grant ? " *• First, middle and last." "You regard him as a favorite with the people?" •' I am not in a situation to determine that. I only know that when his name is mentioned in any large audience where I have been present he has carried the day with enthusiasm." " How do you account for his non-renomina- tion?" HENRY WARD BEECHER. nt men s; that ualities lerman, and the two ex- renerals success, ible de- le army, military adminis- nistrator re got a his very worked larkable 603 "There were too many candidates with too strong a backing, and, all combined, they defeated him. The enthusiasm of the public and the en- thusiasm of the political managers are two dif- ferent things." Mr. Beecher was an ever-ready talker. He needed no preparation beyond that ob- tained by a half century of attrition with men and with affairs, and, as Frederic Hudson well said, "Every newspaper welcomed him and gladly eave him the freedom of its columns." ^ 30 Hi. vith the that. 1 ioned in esent he f^nomina- XI. A VOLUMINOUS CORRESPONDENT. IT was Mr. Beecher's habit to talk freely, fully and earnestly with his friends on all matters of general as well as of personal interest, and as the demand for his instruction and service ex- tended, radiating from his home in Brooklyn to all portions of the country, and ultimately across the sea, he continued his habit of conference by letter, and some of his choicest thoughts, some of his wisest utterances, were penned while on lecturing tours, when alone in London, when longing for the society of his friends in the soli- tude of Western hotels. He was a voluminous correspondent. Years hence, when the ultimate biographer and collector shall have received from all sources, at home and abroad, the multitudinous trifles which go so far to make the comprehensive whole, far from the least of these illustrations of the great- ness and goodness, the weakness and the unique- ness of Mr. Beecher's character will be found in letters sent here and there, dashed off with the rapidity of friendly utterance, or penned with f504) HENRY WARD BEECHER. 606 ly, fully matters and as 'ice ex- ►klyn to ! across pnce by 3, some rhile on 1, when he soli- )her and irces, at which hole, far ; great- unique- ound in with the ed with care and thought as to their effect. Fortunately for the value of this tribute to his memory, there is afforded access to many letters hitherto unpub- lished, some of which have been used herein simply for authentic data of interesting passages of his life, and others, many of which, with matter from different sources, are given, that the man may thus speak for himself. One of Mr. Beecher's warmest and dearest friends was the late Dr. John Howard Raymond, first president of the Brooklyn Polytechnic, and subsequently first president of Vassar College. Himself a man of rare gifts and of unusual at- tainments as well, he approached friendship with Mr. Beecher with some degree of diffidence, but gradually warmed toward him with the unquench- able flame of love. Writing to his sister from Hamilton, N. Y., in May, 1848, Dr. Raymond said: "Professor Conant seems to have been much interested in what he heard of Mr. Beecher while he was in Brooklyn, and, for Tasker's sake, I certainly rejoice in his success. I give you fair warning, however, that I stand in doubt of him. At the least, he is as yet on the outside of my heart. That he is a man of generous, ardent im- pulses I have no doubt, and mayhap of genuine naturalness (though that is a rare attribute) ; but if irreverence and self-worship, in any form, are a part of his nature — that is, are characteris- tics — I won't love him till he gets rid of 'em. I 506 HENRY WARD BEECHER. commend Iiim to your instruction on these points, and according to his profiting shall be my appro- bation of the young man." That Mr. Beecher's genius, eloquence and pe- culiar methods of presenting truth produced an electric effect on Dr. Raymond, as well as upon the general, doubtful community, and that the confidence which all who knew Dr. Raymond de- lighted to receive was soon given to Mr. Beecher, can perhaps be best attested by the following letter written by Mr. Beecher to Mr. John T. Howard, of Brooklyn, in July of that very year. MR. BEECHER TO MR. J. T. HOWARD. "Clinton, N. Y., July 24, 1848. ''My very dear Howard : I believe I took no oath to write you a letter, note, or billet-doux: and, as I seldom write either, I wish you to have a suitable emotion of vanity at this signal exer- tion on my part to youward. However, in this little vacation I have improved, for I have writ- ten, besides an unusual amount to my wife, sev- eral letters to old friends and former correspond- ents, who will be astonished out of all propriety at receiving an actual letter from the latent friend. " Clinton is indeed situated in a beautiful valley, and as seen from College Hill, the prospect is very fine. I believe that I should look out of the window more than I should study if I were a stu- dent here. Good-bye till I date from Hamilton." HENRY WARD BEECHER. 607 " Hamilton, July 26. " In a few minutes John and I are off for the fish-pools of Heshbon ; that is to say, the trout- brooks where we can catch shiners and jjout. •'I have had two or three o;lonous talks with this same John, and we agree to a hair, so far. Indeed my heart has gone forth unto him gready, and I find all the premonitory symptoms of falling in love with him. Here comes the buggy. " Evening, eleven o'clock. Did ever two fel- lows spend a finer day together ! Why, the way I talked for three mortal hours on a stretch in the morning was enough to dre a Hercules. Then we fished and caug' ♦^ enough to save our reputa- tion. In the afternoon he took up the 'thread of discourse' and led off in the same self-sacri- ficing manner, and now I am confirmed in love and admiration, and wanted to tell him so, but 'darsent.' But I guess he was a little reciprocal, for he said at the tea-table to-night that he had taken me into the family, so that I was a regular member! I found that my good friends had pre- pared my way before me, and so I was ready to begin where others would have ended after weeks of acquaintance. I was captivated with Mrs. C. right off, and had begun to flirt a little with the professor himself — a deep-hearted man. I am quite delighted with Hamilton, and if I could make the people half as fond of me as I am of them, there would very soon be a mutual under- fc) m 1 j :,| 508 HENRY WARD BEECHER. fe Standing between us. Indeed, I die* hint a litde to Kendrick and John about giving me a call to the university, and offered to go through fire (if not water^ to oblige them ! " " Utica, Friday morning. " Here I am, an hour and a half before car- time. I rejoice with exceeding great joy to sei my face homeward. I long to see you all. For although I have had one of the most various, ex- hilarating and delightful weeks possible, yet I be- gin to be homesick. What under the heavens those people can do who have nobody to love and nobody to love them, I don't know. Ah ! if ever I am called to leave Brooklyn, will it not be to me like rending soul from the body ? Heretofore, I have had to labor often up-hill ; to carry every- thing, inspire everything and do everything ; be- sides which there was sorrow in my house and sorrow in my heart. But now I seem to have gone over to the opposite extreme: what com- fort is wanting — how many dear friends who love me far beyond what 1 deserve — whose kind- nesses are ceaseless ! Sometimes, when I think of all God's mercies to me, my feelings rise and almost suffocate me ! " I used to brace myself up under sore trials by saying to my soul, * Thou art not a man if thou canst not endure all that God will lay upon thee.' But now it is a question how I shall come out of HENRY WARD BEECHER. 509 a little call to fire (if •ning. )re car- y to set 11. For ous, ex- ^et I be- heavens love and if ever be to me tofore, I y every- ,ng; be- use and to have lat com- vho love ;e kind- 1 I think rise and t)re trials n if thou l»on thee.' He out of prosperity. Will not the summer melt what the winter could not blow away ? I long to live in sympathy with such a mind as Paul's. I long to have such a fulness of heart that whoever loves me shall find himself growing better for it. Could any epitaph be more simple, but noble, than this of the New Testament, 'He went about doing good ? * A commentary on that sentence would be like clothes on a lily — covering up without adorning rr setting forth. " H. W. B." Bear in mind that these letters were written from friend to friend forty years ago, when Mr. Beecher was but thirty-four years of age, fresh from his Western field, with all the enthusiasm of an ever-bubbling nature, stirred by contact with a fresh class of men and women, well born, well bred, educated, appreciative and above all demon- strative in their affectionate regard for their new friend and pastor. Read the following from Mr. Beecher to Dr. Raymond, and ask if a better photograph of a man's interior could be desired than it MR. BEECHER TO PROFESSOR J. H. RAYMOND. '• Hartford, August 30, 1 848. "My dear Professor : If good resolutions were only letters, what voluminous epistles you would have had from mc ! Alas, that a thought-a-type could not be invented! What an advance will ^ Si If' iifl i is 610 HENRY WARD BEECHER. that be when one can slip a sheet of prepared paper into his hat, upon which the electricity of the mind shall act as the light does upon a pho- tographic plate, and sally forth. Upon his re- turn, O joy ! all that he has thought would be found transferred to the paper! The advantages of this new invention promise to be so many that I hope no time will be lost in prosecuting the matter to a discovery. Thus a paralytic author might triumph over the infirmity of his hands ; a mercurial head like mine might, for once, write as fast as it thought. A paper night-cap would give one in the morning all his dreams; a suitable head-book would register the most perfect of jour- nals, for thus all that we think would go down — good and bad — and go down just as it happened, a thing I suspect that is not always to be found in pen-made journals. Then, too, what self-knowl- edge might not this afford — should we believe in our own identity? Each evening would put a new volume into our hands, for I suppose that we all think at least one volume in a day, if all our cogitations were written. What a fiction it would be ! Alas, the strangeness of fiction and the stub- born validity of fact ! For who does not throw the filmy veil of self-esteem upon his life, through whose witching colors all looks changed to a heightened excellence ? Who could bear to read in a volume at evening all the somethings and nothings, all the evil and good, all the frets and HENRY WARD BEECHER. 611 fancies, all the venturesome ranges of thinking, the vain imaginations, the hopes, fears, sup- pressed angers, involuntary opinions of men, and above all, the critical thoughts which one has of even the best? For who lives without great faults? and who lives with habits of attention without seeing them ? Yet to see in full print that which otherwise only glances through the brain, and whose trace is lost — as is the stream of a meteor— would be shocking. "There, was I not foreordained to be a letter- writer ? For who can spin a longer yarn than this out of such a little lock of wool ? " New England contains so much that a reflect- ing mind in passing through it is in danger of having nothing to write ; for no one wishes to write an encyclopaedia, and yet even that would not contain the things to be written. Just at pres- ent, however, the theological world is on the qui Vive for Dr. Bushnell's sermons. His Cam- bridge sermon on the atonement, and his late New Haven sermon on the divinity of Christ, together, I suppose, with one next week to be delivered at Andover, will soon be published in a volume. No sooner is that done than three or four batteries, already loaded to the muzzle, will open on him, and we shall see a great cannonade. The Princeton men. Dr. Taylor (probably), the East Windsor men with Dr. Tyler at their head, and some Boston men, will take the matter in 512 HENRY WARD BEECHER. hand. Can't you start one of your professors to take the matter up and put the heresy under water, for its everlasting extinction ? Although I cannot agree with Bushnell, I can as little with his respondents ; nor do I see any benefit in a con- troversy. It will be a fierce technical dispute about propositions at the expense in the churches of vital godliness. It is, therefore, a joyful matter to me that the points of disagreement do not touch the practical use to be made in preaching and personal experience of the doctrine of Christ's sacrifice for sin. It seems to me that the only thing on earth that truth is good for is to convert men from evil to holiness. That truth which has temper to do that is manifestly divine, and to be believed for its work's sake. I am sure I am willing to stake any individual truth on the test by which Christ ventured his whole mission. When will ministers learn that putting up fences and dis- puting about landmarks is not an equivaleni for the careful cultivation of the soul. "As for myself, I mean to go home and labor and preach and pray for a revival, and if I can, to have so much to do within as to have no ear or heart for the storm that rages without. So others may blow the bellows and turn the doctrines in the fire, and lay them on the anvil of controversy, and beat them with all sorts of hammers into all sorts of shapes ; but I shall busy myself with using the sword of the Lord, not in forging it. HENRY WARD BEECHER. 513 ssors to / under hough I with his I a con- dispute :hurches il matter : do not reaching " Christ's the only ) convert /hich has nd to be ire I am le test by When s and dis- aleni for ind labor f I can, to no ear or So others ctrines in itroversy, rs into all with using •• I shall not soon forget that gem of a visit to Hamilton. It is not often that everything con- spires to make a visit brimful of interest without a drop being spilt to the ground. I look back upon it as upon a dream. It seems as if I had read it all in a novel, and remembered you all ai> so marv sharply-drawn characters. You and I were i ambling about so much together that I think of you as one outside the cover of the book, a reader with me." [Here follows a humorous description, or "por- trait gallery," as he calls it, of the various mem- bers of the Hamilton circle, with other personal matters.] "This tirade has quite put my picture-gallery in confusion, upset my frame and spilt m/ paints; yet I will scrape up enough to give the outlines of the reverend visitor himself — for I have ob- served that all great painters have succeeded well in drawing their own likenesses. Imagine, then, a tall, portly man, rather precise In manners, evi- dently reared in a school in which etiquette ruled out nature, naturally taciturn and singularly care- ful when he does speak to say only the most profitable thing ; whose feeling has manifestly been subdued until one doubts whether he ever had much; never venturing upon jests and hu- morous frivolities, and therefore wearing a face full of premature care. It is quite manifest that this reverend divine has been saved from the lillilp'^ 1 ■Hll ^^^^^^^^^^Br| /'^ 1 HHK'T »■ 614 HENRY WARD BEECHER. cloister or the cave by being born one or two hundred years too far down the stream of time. There ! If from that portrait you cannot discern the original, may heaven help your wits ! "But really this is too bad. I take my 'corporal oath' that I intended no such prolix infliction when I began, but we slipped down the epistolary hill so easily that I hardly perceived the motion. Now that we are safely at the bottom, I will save your patience the necessity of further travel by block- ing up the road with the name of "Your friend (that would be) " H. W. Beecher." And, in this connection, circumstantial and co- incidental illustration of Mr. Beecher's status among thinking men can be found in the following extracts from letters written by Dr. Raymond to his sister. It was during the year of 1848 that Plymouth Church building was destroyed by fire, an incident necessary to bear in mind while read- ing the following : " That name [Beecher] reminds me to say that I could not mourn very much over the burn'ng of the old Plymouth, because I am very sure that the Lord designs it for good. Give my best love to the dominie. I do feel sad when I think of the interruption to his work, but am satisfied that the occurrence will turn to good account in more ways than one, which he can foresee better than I could HENRY WARD BEECHER. 515 describe. Perhaps, having fewer sermons to write, he may get time to give me a scratch of his pen. That surely would be one blessing growing out of his calamity. Tell the blessed boy that my heart reaches after him through interposing space, and grapples him unto itself as with hooks of steel. I do esteem him very highly in love for his work's sake, and for his worth's sake. As to his doctrine, (is that the rub yet ?) if it were my dying charge I should say to him, 'Preach iv hat you believe', not on the shallow ground that what any man honestly believes is fit to be preached, but because, if I know what the gospel is, H. W. B. knows it, and beyond measure more deeply, richly, sweetly and power- fully. Only let him preach it (and he will preach it more clearly and copiously every month he lives, unless God deserts him), and I shall be satisfied; a point, the importance of which I trust he will duly appreciate. My prayer for him is that God may be with him, multiply his troubles and his comforts, his foes and his friends, give him afflictions to fight and courage to fight them, and just as much suc- cess as will not stand in the way of greater success to come ; keep his proud spirit chastened to a Christ-like tenderness, his fiery and impetuous will chained to salvation's car and on the track of truth ; his soul full, full, full of love, and like a gushing fountain ever toward the needy and the lost; and, in a word, everything about him just so that he may suitably and safely receive all the 516 HENRY WARD BEECHER. si" Hill honors and blessings which God has to bestow on His most highly favored ones. And if my prayer for him can in any particular be improved, let me know how, and I will amend it. " Remember me particularly and affectionately to Mrs. Beecher, of whose discernment I have had a very high opinion, and of her love the strongest assurance, ever since she discovered my resemblance to you. I must not be forgotten, either, to the children of the Manse, because I * took to ' them and have them in my heart. "And so, with love to all who love him, writes "John." When it was determined by Mr. Beecher to accept the offer of his church to send him abroad for the summer in 1863, he looked about him for a companion and selected Dr. Raymond. Years after that, when the family of Dr. Raymond, who had lately joined the great army beyond the stream of time, for their own pleasure and in honor of the memory of the honored husband and father who had gone, collected memorials of his life* from various sources, Mr. Beecher was asked to give some written reminiscences of their trip abroad. He responded characteristically, of course. The following is his letter : *" Life and Letters of John IL Raymond, late President of Vassar College. Edited by his eldest daughter [Mrs. Harlan P. Lloyd]." New York: Fords, Howard & Hulbert, 1881. HENRY WARD BEECHER. 617 MR. BEECHER TO DR. RAYMOND S DAUGHTER. •' Brooklyn, June i6, 1880. "J/j/ dear H. : By all means use your father's letters, without regard to my name. As we were inseparable companions of voyage and travel, it could not be otherwise than that his letters to his family should carry a thousand personal de- tails. But those are the very things that give life to a biography; to cut them out would be like taking away the pearls, and leaving only the string on which they were placed. "I shall never have such another four months. If I had the months, I should lack the man. There will never be but one John H. Raymond ; and he was built expressly for companionship in travel. Of an easy temper, looking mainly on the bright side of things ; full of wit and gayety, sparkling all over'with enthusiasm; full of knowledge of historical places, men and events ; with hunger for all that was beautiful in art or in nature ; simple as a child among friends, reserved among strangers, and dignified in all places — well, if I should go on, you might say I was painting a hero; but he was better than that — a lovable man ! " We were in the same state-room on shipboard, and congenially sick nearly all the voyage ; and landed in as wet and dirty a day as ever gave reputation to England. Hardly had we stored our trunks in the hospitable house of ' Charlie Dun- "ill 518 HENRY WARD BEECIIER. can * before we were off to Chester, the old, old city, where we walked for hours in a haze of enthusiastic wonder. A volume would not con- tain the contents of a single day if a true re- lation were made of all we saw, said, thought and felt. Dr. John was full of antiquarian lore, and could have spent a month in research. It was his nature to be thorough. He would poise him- self before an angle in the old wall, or a niche in the cathedral, or some projecting old house in a narrow street, and begin to trace things back to their origin or uses, and I had to seize him by his arm and rush him along. ' Don't stop here for- ever, Doctor ! The siin will go down before you finish one street. You are not in your study, with days and days for investigation. We are going over all Europe in two months' time, and you must learn to glance, and skim, and do the studying when you get home.' Next we went rapidly through portions of North Wales. The air was balmy, the sky of a moist and tender blue ; soft banks of clouds sailed noiselessly over our heads, and all nature evidently had come out to give two Yankees the choicest things she had. Everything was beautiful ; everything just right; everything joyful. We had such boundless buoy- ancy that even accidents seemed mirthful, and we mourned only that there were but twenty-four hours in the day and seven days in the week. " It would be vain for me to trace the joyous HENRY WARD BEECHFR. .510 days in sombre York, at radiant Chatsworth, at Stratford-on-Avon — oh ! what a day ! The mem- orable afternoon spent by stealth within the ruined walls of Kenilworth Castle, shut up to visitors on that day, but assaulted, climbed into, and captured from the back side. *' London was to the Doctor worse than was the library to Dominie Sampson. For years he had stored his mind with all that belonged to its literary history, its haunts, its streets, buildings, hostleries, churches, galleries, mansions, and palaces. Now he had them before him. It did one good to see him recognize some resort of Johnson, Pope, Dryden, and the whole singing crew; of Milton and Shakespeare, or the streets and courts famous in history. At once he began to explain and point out, or search for some remem- bered thing concerning the place, and would have been there to this day pouring out like a fountain, had I not turned the faucet and jerked him away. * Come, come, my dear fellow, this is no way ; at this rate you wont get out of London all summer! ' He was never annoyed by this social despotism, but waked out of his absorption with a laugh, and joined in cracking jokes upon himself And so we went through the picture-galleries and libraries, and oh ! the British Museum — that vvar^ simply a maelstrom that sucked him in and threatened to take him forever from our sight ! To Oxford we went ; to its venerable colleges, to its Bodleian 31 m ^ 520 HENRY WARn BEF.CHER. Library, its Taylor and Randolph galif;ries, its • Studies of the Great Masters,* from which I could hardly tear him away. There was not a thing-, high or low, that did not brinir him exquisite joy. He was like a stately instrument of music upon which were laid the han ' "^f successive mas- ters, all evoking the music wondrous happi- ness. Tears and laughter and learning, and love and solemnity, and capering gayety, the wis- dom of a sage, and the prankishness of a child, all in succession ran through the unclouded days! If I had had no other joy it would have been happiness enough to watch the Doctor's endless enjoyment, varying every hour, and running through the whole scale of faculties. "Our visit, you will recollect, was made in the summer of 1863, just befon ^. capture of Vicks- burg and the expulsion oi ^e from Pennsyl- vania after the battle of Gettysburg, The preju- dice against the North among all the upper classes in England was undisguised ; the ' common people,' tiie laboring classes, were friendly^ Your father and I were met on every side with abun- dant proffers of social kindness from men who openly avowed a wish that the Union might be dissolved. A breakfast was given us in London by the Congregational clergymen and laymen of London and vicinity. More than one hundred sat down at the tables. When it was my turn to speak, I laid the case of my country before the HENRY WARD BEECHER. 521 gentlemen with some plainness of speech and fervor of manner. Thinking that the eflect would be better if my views were corroborated by a self-contained and scholarly man, not given to undue feeling in speech, I had Dr. Raymond called out. His first sentence was like an explo- sion, and his speech a tremendous outburst of in- dignation at the lukewarmness of English friends, and of fervid patriotism such as I had never heard from him before. It electrified his audience and me too ! I never set him up again to make a cool aiid conservative speech upon the war for the extinction of slavery and the preservation of the Union ! If my speech had been fervid, his was red hot ; if mine was a summer thunder-storm, his was a tropical tornado ! " But he had a magnificent power of indigna- tion ! Gentle, genial, and little apt to be aroused by anger, yet, when he did confront meanness and dishonorable conduct, he had a fury of wrath that consumed it to the uttermost. " It would be vain to attempt a journal of our visit to Paris, to Strasburg, to Basel, to Lucerne, to Geneva, to Mt. Blanc, to Zermatt and Gorner Grat and the Matterhorn, over the Simplon, to the Italian lakes, to Milan, to Verona and Venice, across the Tyrol to Inn.spruck, Munich, Nurem- burg, Dresden, Berlin, Frankfort-on-the-Main, Brussels, Antwerp, Ostend and London again. We nearly droves our courier crazy. Such early 522 HENRY WARD BEECHER. rising, such incessant activity, such late retiring, a whirlv/ind of enterprise such as could be ex- pected of no mortal creatures except Yankees who had determined to do a year's seeing in six weeks. Everywhere our first visits were to ven- erable buildings, cathedrals, churches, historic mansions ; but next, and longest, to galleries of ^rt. It was a rare day at Dresden, when we were shut up all day alone in the hall of engravings, and had a taste of the rarest and choicest bits from every school and period. It was on a day closed to the world. But the curator opened to us, and rewarded our enthusiasm with a whole day's kindest attention and service. (May his crown be bright !) It would have done you good to see your father's quiet eagerness and exquisite ecstasy in the galleries of great artists. It was a new world to him. It opened to him a realm of sensibilities and refined tastes, and subtle analyses, concerning which he had treasured up stores of fine knowledge from books for many years. I made up my mind, that, much as I enjoyed the treasures of art, Doctor John was himself about the most interesting specimen of fine art that I anywhere met. " In all the crowded days, the glowing weeks, the over-full months, there was never a jolt or jar, a grief or groan, a rash word or uneasy moment. He was merry, wise, patient, eager, devout, rever- ential ; yet joyous and gay as a child. He saw HENRY WARD BEECHKR. 523 everything, admired, loved, revered, judged, con- demned, rejoiced, in an endless activity that, as it were, beat the hours into foam, every drop or bub- ble of which threw off iridescent beauty to his hungry eyes. But one single fault, one single action to be condemned in our months'-long trip; and that was when he went home and left me alone in London ! The scenes and figures woven into the tapestry of those tew immortal months have lost none of their color and b jauty, and never will until I see him again, and am shown by him all the scenes of the New Jerusalem. H. W. B." CONTEMPORANEOUS PHOTOGRAPHS. However delightful the travel may have been to those two friends, it will be obvious from the following sentences taken from one of Dr. Ray- mond's letters, that the ocean voyage was not so jolly. He says: "When I went into our state-room that first evening, and saw poor Mr. Beecher rolled into his berth with everything on but his boots, and listened to his pallid attempts tc be facetious, I did not attempt to imitate him in the latter respect, while J made haste to do so in the former, though he had the advantage of me in the process, inasmuch as tumbling down is much easier than climbing up. . . . " Sunday was fine, though the wind was fresher 11 1 "^ 524 HENKV WARD LEECH EK. and the swell was higher; wherefore Henry was down, and we were all disappointed of the talk, which, in an infatuated interval of fancied escape, he had promised the captain to give us. But we had the service very enjoyably read by a reverend doctor on board, though poor Henry was groan- ing in his berth the while." In another letter, from Liverpool under date of June 12, he says: " We had not landed, yesterday, before Mr. Beecher was boarded by deputations from Liver- pool and from Manchester, and it was manifesdy their purpose to use him as a new-come notoriety, in pulpit and on platform, for legitimate and for selfish objects, to the utmost possible extent. The secession papers here announced that the Rev. Henry Ward Beecher had come over on a visit to England, ' ostensibly for the benefit of his health, but really (as was ascertained from the most trustworthy sources) as a secret agent for the Federal Government,' and a series of public demonstrations and a free fight generally appears to have been expected, as a matter of course, by friends and foes. But that little game had been quietly blocked. Mr. Beecher informed the Liverpool deputation that he had come really for his health (which means rest and not work) ; that, as America understood her own interests best, and expected to take care of them without any foreign aid, so Englishmen were the proper par- HENRY WARD HEECIIER. 526 ties to enlighten Englishmen, and to save their country from the unhappy results to which self- ishness, prejudice, ignorance and bad counsel were likely to lead her ; that, while he sympathized with the true Christians and enlightened friends of liberty among them, and would be glad to lend them any incidental aid in his power, his first duty was to husband and recruit his energies for his own country, when and where he could labor for some object of real importance to her. The loyal Americans here are tickled out of their boots at this decision, for they shared the common expectation ; and though they all would be glad to hear Mr. Beecher speak, yet they believe that no eloquence, however splendid or persuasive, could have half the effect of this dignified silence, this practical proof that we really don't regard the destinies of America as dependent on the bray of great John Bull." Of Mr. Beecher's experiences in Paris, the wnter gives the following interesting account: "We had a funny time in getting to our quar- ters in Paris, no one of us speaking French and no * interpreter' being at hand, as he should have been, at the station. I had the easy part assigned me of taking charge of the shawls and carpet- bags, while Mr. Holme started off very boldly to obtain a carriage, and Mr. Beecher undertook to engineer our trunks through the Octroi, /. e. the City Customs. After waiting at my post ^H 626 HENRY WARD BEECHER. until I became uneasy, I started first in pursuit of Mr. Beecher. He had got the trunks passed, and was trying to understand how much was to be paid, and some eight or ten Frenchmen were, with intinite good humor, helping to clear his be- wildered faculties by chattering and gesticulating all at once, and dancing around him like so many crazy monkeys. He stood and looked his blank- est, until a divine idea struck him ; and thrusting his hand into his pocket, he drew it forth heaping full of gold, silver and copper, and held it out open before them with one of his comical and speaking looks, as much as to say : ' There ! me.s- sieurs, satisfy yourselves.' This stroke of nature was received with a shout of merriment. The full significance of which became more apparent to us when one of the men picked out '"f" the glit- tering heap three sous, and motioned to Mr. Beecher to put up the rest. F'rom that time the American gentilhomme was the popular favorite, and nothing could be too much or too good for him." BEECHER AT COURT. An amusing incident attending the reception of the travellers by the King of Belgium is thus narrated by Mr. Beecher: " Our tour on the Con- tinent drawing to a close, we came to Brussels, on our way to England, in September of 1863. Dining one day. with Mr. Sanford, the American Minister, our conversation naturally turned upor? HENRY WARD BEECH ER. 527 pursuit passed, was to 11 were, his be- lulatini;- many i blank- 1 rusting leaping 1 it out cal and e ! mes- f nature t. The p parent the glit- to Mr. ime the "avorite, ood for ception is thus le Con- russels, »f 1863. iierican :d upot) the war in America. Greatly aroused at finding our friends there somewhat despondent, and in- clined to favor some compromise, I gave my own view with no inconsiderable energy. Mr. San- ford expressed a desire that I should see the King of Belgium and repeat my view to him. It was arranged that we should meet the King at Ghent, where he was to be on the follo\ying Mon- day at the unveiling of a statue of some famous man. Accordingly we repaired thither, nothing* loath ; for, to say the truth, while I did not expect much from the interview, I did hope a good deal from Van Houtte's great nursery at that place — world-renowned ! We were informed that the day would be wholly consumed by the King in public affairs, but that on Tuesday morning at ten o'clock he would give us audience. All day Mon- day, therefore, we strolled through Van Houtte's grounds, and, it being a yl/^ day, his workmen and scholars were enjoying holiday vacation, so that we had him all to ourselves. "Our courier was named Simmons, an English- man with a French wife, and long a resident of Paris. Simmons was a character. He had been Mrs. Stowe's courier for a year, and was quite proud when it was his good fortune to have celeb- rities in hand. Now, for ourselves — mere vaga- bond clergymen, with little time and little money, and no reputation that he had ever heard of — he had only a tolerable conceit. Even that suffered m Pi 628 HENRY WARD BEECHER. from the indefatigable enterprise with which we had raced liini, by night and by day, all through Europe. But when he learned on Monday that we had repaired to Ghent to meet an appoint- ment with the King, and that the royal party were to remain till Tuesday expressly for this interview, joy and pride took possession of his soul. Not that he manifested it in any clamorous or indecorous way. No ; he was silent, dignified and indifferent. He spoke among the servants, couriers, and waiters that thronged him with the nonchalant air of a man who attended royal levees every other week ! To us he was more anxious. We must be put in costume; etiquette required a dress hat, swallow-tail coat, white gloves, and I know not what else. 1 was democratically ob- stinate. If the King would not see me in my ordinary clothes, he need not meet me at all. Sim- mons was in despair. His face grew sad as with the gloom of twenty sextons. At length, after much persuasion, I compromised on gloves and hat, but utterly refused to exchange my best frock coat. The master of ceremonies, whoever he was, winked at the irregularity. "Tuesday dawned. A pair of milk-white horses and gorgeous open carriage had been procured by Simmons. There came with them, as they dashed up to the door, a curious crowd. Out rushed all the people of the hotel — cook, buder, steward, waiters and guests. Simmons stood HENRY WARD BEECHER. 529 Upon the sidewalk, calm and cool as a man not easily moved. At length Dr. Raymond and I came forth. A whisper ran round, 'Which one is going to see the King ? * and as Raymond had altogether the best of it in looks and dignity, he carried off the honors of the occasion. We as- cended ; the door was closed. Simmons mounted with the driver. He took one triumphant look at the admiring crowd, parted his coat-tails, and sat down as if he were the king ! and away we dashed through the crowded streets, Simmons a world happier than was the monarch we were going to see. Not an officer, not a soldier, not a courier, that lingered about the mansion where the King was to receive us, but knew in half an hour from Simmons that the King had waited over a day to meet his party. "The King met us in a long reception-room. His Majesty, in full military dress, appeared to be a well-preserved man of sixty-five. Tall, dig- nified, and yet neither stiff nor cold, he entered at once into easy conversation, speaking admira- ble English. He kept his left hand much of the time upon the sword at his side, as a rest. Al- most at once His Majesty turned the conversa- tion upon America. I gave my views with some explicitness, and was confirmed by Dr. Raymond. Etiquette, of course, required us to address the King as * Sire ' or ' Your Majesty.' I did some times, and sometimes I forgot it and said ' Sir.* ili I 630 HENRY WARD BEECHER. Dr. Raymond, who took part in the general con- versation, preserved the proprieties more suc- cessfully, anc^- occasionally would follow up one of my lapses with a remark in which ' Sire ' or 'Your Majesty' received a delicate emphasis, by way of hint to me. Once or twice I went back to correct the word, but finally got 'Sir' and 'Sire' so mixed up that I used both of them. The King plainly enjoyed it. A mirthful look stole into his eye, and a smile to his lips. "We made very little impression on His Maj- esty's political views. He said that the war was doubtless a case for meditation, and more than intimated that he would be happy to arbitrate be- tween the South and the North. I replied that there was no sovereign in Europe to whom with more confidence the North would turn, if they were disposed to refer the questions at issue at all ; but that our people had no wish or purpose to ask any one to settle the quarrel for them; they intended to fight it out, to the last man and the last dollar. *• I was not, at that time, aware that Charlotte (or Carlotta, as she has since then been called), the wife of Maximilian, was the King's daughter. It was at the time when the French were in Mexico, and the son-in-law of the King of Bel- gium was spoken of for the Mexican throne. The King asked me what the opinion of our peo- ple was in regard to the appointment of Maxi- HENRY WARD HEKCHER. r,r^l ral con- )re sue- up one Sire ' or basis, by mt back 5ir' and of them, iful look -lis Maj- war was ore than itrate be- )lied that horn with I, if they issue at purpose or them; man and Charlotte n called), daughter. were in g of Bel- 1 throne. our peo- of Maxi- milian as Emperor of Mexico, Quite unconscious of the ground I was treading upon, I replied that but one feeling existed in the United .States as to the French invasion ; it was a cowardly thing — a masked battery aimed at us. While our hands were now full with the Civil War nothing could be done, but he might be sure that as soon as the war closed the French would leave Mexico, and far more rapidly than they had entered. And, as to Maximilian, I said that I should advise any one who proposed to sit on the throne of Mexico to try Vesuvius or Hecla for a while. If he could manage to sit there quietly, he might then try Mexico. " His Majesty naturally received these view^s with decided coolness, and shortly afterwards asked us how long we intended remaining in town, etc. — which is the signal for dismission. Now, although etiquette does not allow one to turn his back upor. royalty, yet he floor was wooden, polished and very slippey, and, while, I began with cautious backing, 1 soon got to quar- tering, so that 1 could see when; 1 was going ; and near the door, losing all propriety 1 turned clear around and bolted out as I would have done at home. " No sooner had we got fairly away than Doctor John exploded with merriment. Knowing all the time that the Kino's daucjhter was the wife of Maximilian, he saw me getting myself into hot 5^2 HENRV WARF) HKECHr.R. water with the most profane enjoyment. Nor did the fun ever wear out. An alhision to mv gifts as a courtier was an unfailing source of amusement." FROM MR. REECHER TO A FRIEND. •' November, 1852. "The flowers that I send you, you will observe, have been able to endure the frost; they do not give up life at a little chill. Do you notice the triplicate buds ? " May you live to see and receive, not the last rose of swmner, but the last rose of autumn for many years to come. " 1 am broodino my Thanksgiving sermon, but the chickens will not yet run out from under the wing. Truly yours, H. W. B." FROM MR. BEECHER TO A FRIEND. "Brooklyn, January 2, 1854. ''My dear .• I send this in my place to wish you a Happy New Year, and to stand as a memo- rial, as long as you have eyes to read it ; and for your children after you, of the love, regard and affection of your friend and pastor, " H. W. Beecher." FROM MR. BEECHER TO A FRIEND. "March i, 1857. '*My dear .• You send me a white violet on HENRY WARD BEECHER. oaa 1852 • * • (bserve, do not tice the the last limn 1 for lion, but ider the the first day of the week, and the first day oi spring — a larbinger — a memory — a reminiscence of the country and the grove — a prophet of the fu- ture ! A pure, white, simple violet! growing humbly, living tranquilly ; and when it passes away, it only gathers its life up into a seed, which has in it the promise of another life and summer. Thank you. "H. W. Beecher." FROM MR. beecher TO A FRIEND. "A tree that has grown for years and rooted deeply and widely, and bound itself to the soil so strongly that winds and storms cannot overthrow or tear it up — ought it to be troubled with a chance puff of wind ? Let it blow past ; and may God bless you, and love you, and keep you and yours. " H. W. Beecher." from MR. beecher TO A FRIEND. " Troy, March 26. "My dear friend : I can hardly imagine you. in Rome or in Italy. You are a myth — and writing seems to me but an experiment upon vacancy. I write almost as one would to a person dead. When I go round to 150 I know that you are there, and every time the door opens I half ex- pect to see you dart through it. Your photo- graph on the slab between the front windows has a kind of sad expression and sometimes, lately, almost reproachful. I don't know why unless 5JU HENRY WARD BEECHER. because I have not written to you ; but that you could hardly have expected. O dear ! writing is a mockery. Even in preaching the dispropor- tion betweea the inward thought and the out- ward symbol is enough to make one weary of the imperfection. But even more when one speaks of friendship, of memory, of life itself. I have worked very hard this winter — harder than ever before. It is good for all complaints. You know that work is my specific for all troubles, but, more this winter than ever before, I think I have had a sense and premonition of the end. I do not mean that I really expect to die early, but only that life seems to me more than ever void, brief, and of lit- de worth, relatively. Doubtless my domestic expe- riences have had to do with it. E 's sickness, H 's complaint, H 's absence, and yours, all seem to set the foundations loose, and make me feel that nothing is stable, or safe for a resting-place. To you in Rome it may seem unkind that I do not write you. To me in Brooklyn it scorns the most needless thing in the world. I never can make myself think that my letters are of account, and now less than ever. But, of one thing you should not be ignorant. Mrs. C probably did not intend to convey an idea that I had withheld your letter from friends, but only that she had not seen it. Every one that I met of our circle, saw it. The C *s did not, simply because it chanced so. But what is all that ? You have forgotten it before this. HENRY WARD BEECHER. 5.35 " Brooklyn, June 8. I have carried this letter in my pocket over all New England. I have written and burnt two others. But, I send this now, simply as a wrapper for some flowers, picked at Peekskill, white violets, grass-flower and forget- me-nots. All the flowers of the field would I give to have you back again. But the world turns over, the year rolls fast, you will soon be here, the best autumn flower that ever blossomed. Your letters have done me good, like a medicine. I wish I could pay you. But you have all Europe to write. I have nothing but home matters. Of these, others are good penmen. I am poor at letters, save when shut up, abroad, and obliged to give vent to my whole life in that only channel. E is not yet strong, but I hope much from the summer. Your kindness to our dear H has gone very near to our hearts. This is to be a friend, indeed. E is deeply sensible of your faithfulness to her, to us, and to yc jr own heart necessarily. " My place is very beautiful this summer. I am quite a farmer, an expectant of thousands of bushels of roots, grain and fruits. We have a very good superintendent. All things are fair and beautiful. We need nothing but that you should return. I am glad, for you, that you will stay till autumn. For your own sake, we give you up some months longer. I have gloried in your behalf that you have been borne through so much classical scenery, so wide 32 536 rtENRY WARt) REfiCMfiR. Kl! a realm of art, so much that will make you rich as long as you live. It seems as if we had lent you out at interest, that in due time we might again * receive our oivn ivith usury'. And you may be sure that your hardest scene in all your jour- ney, is the last one, when we set yoa a-going by the tongue, and give no rest, day or night. O dear! I wish I too could see Italy and dream, under the blossom that hangs on the bough, of that land of boundless dreams and longings. But nothing seems to promise me a foreign tour and so you must come home, all in good time, to bring what may be brought to me. "I am as ever, yours with hearty affection, " H. W. Beecher." FROM MR. BEECHER TO A FRIEND. ''My dear *' Peekskill, Aug. 22, 1862. Don't faint, start, or cry out! It is I myself — and actually writing a letter — and because I want to ! That I should do any such thing if you were here, is not to be conceived. But, as you are not, after waiting to see if you would see the place as it looks to me, I must tell you, that Peekskill never did itself such credit as this summer. Its clouds have been furnished in suits the most new, liberal and expensive. The looms above have been weaving very gorgeous stuffs this season. Then our sunsets have turned over a new leaf every day. One there was of HENRY WARD BEECHER. 537 such superlative glory, a fortnight ago, that one might almost be justified in thinking that the gate of heaven was opened to let in some rare and exalted saint, and that out of it came all that gush of wondrous and unearthly light that slanted down upon our hills. It only needed other spec- tators, too, to have been perfect. And this by afternoon, after a day's inconstant raining. It half cleared away, and then came back the thunder-black clouds, chasing along the west.rn hills, with ragged skirts black and lead color, while right down through them as through some aerial skylight, there fell a flood of light on the misty green hills underneath that covered them with silver and gave to their inequalities such a clear revelation that I thought I had never seen such hills in that place before. It is such down- shining from above that gives men divine in- spirations, and under such influences men are not their own humdrum selves, but magnified and glorified. My cold has begun, but slightly thus far. I shall try nothing save regimen, warmer dress, and tonic diet — and as little car-riding as possible. But that last I shall not practice so but that I come next Thursday to Washington if luck serves me. I shall be down for my paper Tuesday and Wednesday, and Thursday hope to be at New Milford by noon. I shall take a buggy and ride over so as to avoid the dilatory stage. I do not think it best to preach. 1 have :?1 M m\\ 538 HENRY WARD BEECHEft. preached for the folks here once, spoken at two war meetings, one here and one in Putnam county (Lake Mahopac) and that is enough for vacation. I need not say how much I have missed you here this summer; everybody has. It is a good thing to have such a gift of conferring happiness, that one is missed by all. Few have it. Those that have, ought not to run away. But, when E returns, we hope to have you some weeks in autumn. Now, see how disinterested I am. I write knowing that I shall get no answer, unless, indeed, you get this on .Saturday ; then a wee note might catch me on Monday at Brooklyn. " Yours as ever and always, "H. W. B." FROM MR. BEECHER TO A FRIEND. "Bodleian Library, Oxford, June 24, 1863. ^' My dear frier d: This is my birthday. I send you a letter asking you to congratulate me and to wish that I may have more and better years. For oth rs must wish them for one — not I for myself. John must give his own history of Stratford, where we spent a night and a day. We came thence yesterday at 7 p. m., and reached Oxford a quarter before eight, but in these long English days it was still broad daylight, as the sun does not set till 8.30. He had a headache and I left him to go to bed at the ' Angel,' while I sallied out to find the old friend Carr, who put Ill HENRY WARD BEECHER. 539 me through Oxford thirteen years ago. I learned that he was yet living, well-off and prospering. At about ten, I rang at his door and sent in a card. A moment's domestic counsel, then he appeared at the end of the hall, in the open door of his tea-room saying, ' Is this Mr. Beecher from America ? ' ' I rather think it is.' At this he gave me the heartiest grip and welcome, scolded me for not coming directly to his house, wanted me to go right down and knock John up, and kept me till twelve, insisting on my bringing John at 8,30 in the morning to breakfast, which I did. A new wife he has, a good, kind, hearty soul, not over-sensitive or fastidious, but good, kind and demonstrative. After breakfast he took us to the gallery where are the drawings of Raphael and M. Angelo, the models of all of Chantrey's works, the Pembroke marbles and divers other curious things. Having himself to be off all day, he came at 11.30 and took us to the Bodleian, and here we are. I am eye-weary, and so rest by using my heart-eye. I am far more interested in the portraits than in the books : A Vandyke of Sir Kenelm Digby, grand — Locke, Pope, Dryden, and most of the mediaeval E^nglish poets. " This wilderness of books, like a great Sahara, is to me like a vast range of land from which nothing grows. The new books of every age reproduce all that is of worth in old ones and more besides, except in poetry and sentiment. Jfi^ ^iwwm 640 HENRY WARD BEECHER. Only affections and imaginations have a life with- out dates. They are always young and always old. " H. W. B." FROM MR. EEECHER TO A FRIEND. "London, September 24, 1863. "My dear : John is preparing to sail day after to-morrow- His room is full of the prepa- rations for leaving — boxes open, trunk packing, various little settlings going on. I am melancholy enough. Ever since I got back to London I have been homesick, and now that he is going off, I feel the premonitory symptoms of suicide. I have nothing to keep me up. John has been everything to me in this journey. "There is no telling but that I might fall in love with him if we are to continue longer in company. I stay most unwillingly, and these symptoms of his departure are more sad to me than the falling of leaves in autumn or the flight of birds. What shall I do, alone, here ? Could not you and T , by F 's influence in the spirit-land, get a shoot thro' the air to me, without waiting for a slow voyage ^ I know that there is no reasonable ground of expecting that you and he will come over, at any rate beforvi I leave ; but yet, I find a secret expectation of it, which, brush away as often 3 I will, lik-e summer flies, still comes back to pester me. The present is dull and dreary. The past is turning to a dream. The sweet HENRY WARD BEECHER. 641 'liiii remembrances are surely phantasms that never had reality, and will never come true in future. Well, I can be dogged when I cannot be patient, and patient when I cannot be contented. I do not dare think much of June. Indeed, if I go on this way much longer, I shall take a parish and go to work. That always supersedes causeless trouble. I hope you do not regard envy and jeal- ousy as unchristian experiences, for I feel both of them toward Dr. John. He has no right to be seeing you and yours while I am only seeing England and Scodand. I shall clear out in the morning for Oxford, /"nd in a day or two, make a Northern tour dll the 15th of October, when I return to London for a speech on the 20th, then one at Liverpool, and one at Manchester and I am done. "This will enable me to sail the last of October, before unpleasant weather sets in. I cannot write letters for The Independent. I have had but few days at any rate when I was moved to do it. My heart is at home. The affairs of the country have been heavily on my mind, and only for a few weeks in the middle of our continental tour did I lose the care. Good bye. God keep you and yours till I return once more to quiet and home. "As ever yours, " H. W. B. " Love to all." !■ 542 'Dear HENRY WARD BEECMER. FROM MR. BEECHER TO A FRIEND. "Liverpool, Saturday, Oct. 17, 1863. I am sending just a line to John, with his letter, and tho' I said 1 should not send any more letters at my last writing, it's apt to be just so. I write again ; but, only to say, that I am at full work — and with great effect — and that the devil is furious, and I am not. I shall address in London, Tuesday next, Exeter Hall audience. I have also breakfast meetings in the principal cities in view. Also many colleges' and students' meetings, and have prospect of invita- tions to Oxford and Cambridge ; not formally to Universities, but from those connected, and in such a manner as will give me a chance to speak to the students generally. God is opening wide harvest. "All I ask is, that my voice don't give out. It is strained in yelling to these infernal mob- meetings. "I am as ever, yours, "H. W. Beecher. " Love to dear all." FROM MR. BEEC'IER TO A FRIEND. " London. ''My dear .• I cannot tell why it is that London breaks down m) spirits as it does. I do not wonder that so many Englishmen are suicides. The very air is full of temptations to it. Had 1 HENRY WARD BEECHER. 543 not friends and friendships across the water, and were not every day growing brighter with the near prospect of return, it seem to me tliat life would hardly be worth the cherishing. I should hardly care how soon it burnt to the socket. I am not fit, now, after the long dependence upon my social feelings for support, whatever I might have been by a different original training, for living alone. I drive about here hungry and thirsty for communion the day through, and return home weary and moody and try to save myself the sin of repining by escaping temptation under the bedclothes and in sleep. *' Doubtless, had I an abiding place, an occu- pation, connections with life, channels through which the activity of my mind could be directed legitimately, it would be different. Yet it is a good school. I am outside of life. I am nothing. I look on while others live. At home I am so spun and woven to the web of affairs that I cannot look at life as something outside of myself. Here I can and do. I have many thoughts that will I hope give breadth and depth to my after opinion. I certainly feel that I have had a better knowledge of men given me, short as my stay has been. It does not need a long study, if one is deeply acquainted with his fellows at home. The elements of human nature are everywhere alike. The great issues of life will be found sub- stantially the same. If one then sees the shapes mm ■A ' 544 HENRY WARD BEECHER. of society, the general condition and habits of communities, he instantly runs them back to grand causes ; and feels himself familiar at once with that which was new to-day. " I am thinking, that, perhaps, this is my last letter to you ; and that I shall, at that, bring it with my own hands. To-morrow morning (August 27) I shall receive letters from home, which will determine whether I wait till next September 11, or go next Saturday. I almost tremble when I think that I may in four days be on the ocean, homeward bound: " Liverpool, Friday evening, August 30, 9 o'clock. To-morrow at 1 2 I sail ! No tongue can tell how deep a joy I have ! 1 shall see my wife ! 1 shall clasp my children ! I shall meet my friends dearer to me than my own life ! 1 shall again stand in the dear church ! Once more, and for the first time since I left I shall preach ! Our hotel is full of Americans return- ing by to-morrow's steamer and during all the joyful follies that they are committing is there one more notable than this of mine — writing a letter which I shall bring myself to you ? But I must do something. And it is pleasanter to seem to converse with you than anything else. You will perceive that this first sheet is written last ; and the next takes you back to London and the Picture Galleries. " H. W. B." HENRY WARD BEECHER. FROM MR. BEECHER TO FRIENDS. 546 "January i, 1873. "I wish a Happy New Year to you, my dear Tasker and Susan, old and tried friends, and dearer every year. *' God, who loves us, will soon bring us where years are no longer counted, and days and nights are lost in an eternal Ncmj of light and joy. "Henry Ward Beecher." from mr. beecher to a friend. March 29, 1873. ^^ My dear .- I don't feel like going out to-day. I had a great deal rather have you come here, and as I am a spoilt child, I am sure you will indulge me — Mary Perkins (his sister) is lonely, and your duty is to come round about noon and company her. " 'We were there yesterday ! ' you say. I know it, and therefore you will know the way better to- day. " * But it is your turn to come round to our house ! * "There is no such thing in friendship as turns, and even counts and calculations of debts and credits. I am ashamed of you for talking so. " ' But, it rains ! ' "Yes, that is a sluggard's answer. It is the Lord that rains, and you should rejoice. ^n mmm 546 HENRY WARD BEECHER. " ' But you wont have much of a dinner ! * " True. But it is Lent, and plain fare is be- coming church people. But who knows but some of the bread may liquefy, and a new miracle from St. Januarious change the loaf to blood — like wine? " There ! Say yes ; and believe us truly yours, " Mary and Henry. " P. S. Mary wrote this." FROM MR. BEECHER TO A FRIEND. "Peekskili., Thursday, August 3, 1876. ** Mj' dear friend : Your letter to my wife came duly. I did not know till then that T had gone to England. The old house on Hicks will feel lonesome. I have had a very pleasant vacation thus far. Went with Morton to Lewis, in the Adi- rondacks, to rededicate a Congregational church, and had twenty-five hundred in a pine grove — good! We went to Ogdensburg and up the St. Lawrence to Alexandria Bay ; preached on Wells' Island Friday, and at the Bay Sunday. You would enjoy the Thousand Island House. The river is three miles wide there, and choked up with islands, small and great, on scores of which are pretty summer lodges and villas. Butterfly -boats, yachts and steamers fly round night and day. I could not help thinking how much you would enjoy a week there. ^' HENRY WARD BKECHER. r)47 "The birds have reared their second brood, and done singing, except the song sparrow. That sings for the love of it, and not alone for love in its fervor; 'but always and all ihc time.' Crickets have come, and katy-dids. Whatever it was that Katy did it seems she renews it every summer, and some envious neighbor cries out, 'Katy did.' Of course she did — why not? The mere fact that she let her beau kiss her behind or beneath en ivy leaf, is a matter that concerns themselves alone, and not the shrill old maids, that cry out ' she did,' ' she did ! ' I wish you were here to see how my trees grow — quite a forest is springing up." FROM MR. BEECHER TO A FRIEND. "Dixon, III., February i6, 1877. ^^ My dear friend : Who more than you is in- terested in my career through the West ? The papers fail to give the full story. In these inland towns of Northern Illinois one hardly expects so much excitement as i.i a city. But I have this week been in Rochelle, Rockford, Sterling and Dixon, variously from five to ten thousand each. The depot swarmed with expectant people on the arrival of the train, not curiosity mongers, but substantial people ; behaving with quiet enthusi- asm; the whole townsful from thirty miles around ; the halls filled to the utmost ; tickets at t wi i. Lji'iiiL.;! 548 HENRY WARn nEKCHER. ly a dollar for the lowest. If I had coi- ;ented to re- ceive calls I should have had hundreds and hun- dreds. After lecture, a long hand-shaking. There is not simply welcome, but a deep tender- ness that is very touching. The old scandal is hardly thought of; one hears no allusion to it, and the papers do not touch it. I have had good health and have been able to put strength into my lectures thus far, quite equal to expectation. " Next week I go further north, and if I escape snow and storms around St. Paul, I shall consider the trip as effectually secured. We have not had a clouded day since leaving Brooklyn. To-day is brilliant, though fresh, with prairie winds and frosts at night. I am sure if you were here to see with your own eyes, critical as you are, you would be happy and content with everything. My nights are the least agreeable. Since leav- ing the Grand Pacific, at Chicago, the beds have been indifferent. I hear that the enthusiasm of Chicago is even greater than last week. If so, that city may be considered as a Gibraltar stormed. I met the Congregational ministers on Monday, and was assured by those who know, that there is but one feeling among the ministers. They certainly gave no evidence of hostility. Even P came up and shook hands. B was not there. It is so long since I wrote you, that it has a flavor of novelty. A letter from you would be welcome. It should be mailed four HENRY WARD BEECH KR. 549 days ahead of the date at which I am to be in any place. "Yours, with undiminished affection, " H. W. Beecher." MR. BEECHER TO A FRIEND. "Cedar Rapids, March 4, 1877, ''and first day of Hayes ! '' My dear Friend : To find your letter waiting for me here, after riding in the cars and being hunted and gazed at by hundreds at every station till I felt lonesome and hid, was a refreshment which you can hardly imagine. Yes, I am con- verted ! I do read letters ! and like to, and will, even if they came every other day — as, why should they not? Your heart of hearts would be satisfied with the cordiality of my Western recep- tion. The people, used to excitements, are them- selves surprised. No election, no agricultural fairs, fill the towns as these lectures do. If I would receive calls, I could spend the whole day shaking hands. No hint, or allusion. One would not know there had ever been trouble. The clergy generally call upon me. Meantime I jog along, thankful and indifferent — if you can under- stand the conjunction. I am surely glad of the great gladness of this people and of their sym- pathy. But when one shakes, and shakes, and shakes strangers, and their wives, and daughters, and cousins, every night, day after day for weeks mm 550 HENRY WARD BEECHER. in succession, the thing begins to savor of same- ness. One or two steadfast friends of one's life are really more to my heart than all the thou- sands, i am in a very nice room — stove, bed, two Irmps and myself — waiting for lecture to begin, and just thinking how pleasant it would be if on returning I could find company waiting for me ! " Yes, do write. * Be not weary in well doing.' I am getting down from the extreme North, into Iowa. The zeal for preaching is quite affecting. All new towns, on every Sunday, petition for just one sermon ! I wish I could do threefold work, and do it well. But I must be strong on my re- turn to take up home duty, and I shall not over- work out here. It looks now as If I should not go either to Louisville or Cincinnati, for want of a good hall on the days which we can offer them. Perhaps Columbus and Mansfield will do as well. •• Back from lecture ; immense crowd ; tolerable luck. Good room, but solitary ; ditto bed ; ditto papers, letters, etc, ; but can't expect home away from home! Yours ever, " H, W. B." EXTRACT FROM A LFTilCK TO A FRIEND. "Monmouth, III., March lo, 1877. " Saturday. "My dear Friend of almost ihh '^1 years : It is a bright day, a brilliant one indeed ; the snow is thawing, the sun out in his glory, mild air, and 'y**:f^ MENKY \VARt) BEkCHER. f^!^ )51 altogether such a day as should see bluebirds and robins. Of course, if tne vegetation could but begin to start ! But all in its time ; and since we cannot have the 'blossom that hangs on the bough/ we will e'en take the birds ; and if we cannot have the birds, then we can at least //md' about them all. From which luminous passage you will see that I am trying to .nake the best of things. Really, you have set Pond up on high. Your letter reached him to-day, and he has been in a state of exaltation ever since. How I should feel if the same experiment should be tried on me, I can hardly imagine ! I have seen one Eagle since leaving home, and only one. A Brooklyn paper, I suppose, is thought too good for wanderers on the prairies who have seen Chicago papers only, and those on the Mississippi ; but only one Trib- une^ and one Sunday World. But I am so re- duced and humble, that I do not mourn or rebel. I am learning to feed on memory. That is full and refreshing. " H. W. B." Ilili: MR. BEECilER TO J, T. HOWARD. "Albert Lea, Minn., August i, 1878. ''My dear Tasker: Who has a better right to welcome you back to your home than I, who have for so many years derived from that home so much of the best social enjoyment o{ my life ! Poor exile — you have not, I hope, forgotten all that you ever knew, and come home with foreign mannt ^s and 38 )M 552 HENRY WARD BEECHER. foreign tongue, and a foreign heart. A new heart may be a good thing in Theological parlance, but in every other sense I prefer the old one. I am on my way to California, and am speaking day by day through this great wheat-growing State, where six or ten hundred acres of wheat are not uncom- mon. It is very beautiful to ride all day long be- tween golden fields that stretch away endlessly — as if the whole earth were made on purpose to raise wheat. My wife is with me — just to-day she is feverish, and lies upon the bed with head and back ache, but I hope she will be better in the morning and fit for travelling. This State is won- derful for its exquisite little lakes, there being five thousand in the State ! It is dotted all over with them, so that a farm and a lake all to yourselves is quite an easy thing. •' Next October I hope to have you at PeeksP i^ for some days. The house has been a great coui- fort to me and, God willing, will yet be more. Yet it needs breaking-in somewhat, for nothing is ripe until it has life associations. I have for a few years planted few flowers, being engaged with trees and shrubs, so that my beds of carnations have not been filled, but I am rapidly bringing forward so ma.iy vines and trees, whose blossoms hang 'on the bough,' that the loss of annuals is not much felt. My health is good, and I shall go over the moun- tains in ten days from now, so that you wi!! hear next from me from California, at wliich S used "^•: HENRY WARD nF.F.CHKR. 553 to rave at such a rate! It is not the best time of the year, but it is the only time I have. With great love to you and to your household, I am, as ever, and as I ever shall be, Truly yours, " Henry Ward Beecher." :iit FROM MR. BEECHER TO A FRIEND. "Virginia City, Nevada, Aug. i6, 1878. ^' My dear : I was much moved yesterday at the tidings of the death of John H. Raymond. 1 had been riding night and day across the great desert plains, and had just reached this city of the mountains, and sat in the hotel office, looking over a newspaper, when the telegraphic paragraph met my eye. Well, another thoroughly good and wholly useful man has ascended. There are few whose life will yield so much wheat, with so little straw and chaff! He was a man of strong con- victions, which he carried without continual explo- sions ; a man of strength, whose way w^as that of (gentleness. He had a sound conscience for him- self, w^ith great tenderness for the consciences of other people — a rare combination. He was a cautious man, with advanced and progressive views in regard to every department of human life. Plis forte, in public life, was organization and conduct. His work as an educator will constitute a part of the life of your great institutions, two of which were born of him, and were tlie incarnation of his spirit and wi.-.aom. He was a considerate! ii 5o4 HENRY WARD BEECHER. and tender friend, without jealous or exacting moods. His honor was without spot. His re- ligion was large, generous, fruitful in all personal loveliness. The few faults which he had were of great advantage to the general effect of his char- acter, as the shadows of a picture help all the lights. I loved him. He was one whose friend- ship made you rich. Now that he is ' hidden with excess of light,' I wonder that I did not make more out of him, in communion, friendship, religion — everything ! " How many hearts will thank God in his behalf, for rescue and release ? Dying was his appro- priate culmination ; dying, too, in the full strength of mind and body ; in the very midst of great en- deavors, without long and weary waiting — old age! He has been wrapt in light. He knows. He is satisfied. God bless him ; the dear old fellow, now young again with unwasting and eternal youth ! God bless you, my dear friend, and God bless us all. " Henry Ward Beecher." S:i|i MR. BEECHER TO A FRIEND. "Galesburg, III., Sept. 26, 1878. ''My dear Friend : Your letter and Tasker's fol- lowed me back from Denver and found me here, having been sent hither via Chicago. My face is set homeward, as my heart has been long ago, and yet I have never had a pleasanter tour, or done so ''!|t2l HENRY WARD BEECHER. 056 much work as easily. The labor of speaking every night is not very wearing, when one speaks the same thing, and then the journeys do not disagree with me as they do with you. I remember, from the earliest day, how car-riding wearied you, and how you gave out at Albany. "You speak of your impressions, on arriving from abroad, to find that I had gone lecturing to California. (' Fool ! ") I was not so big a ' fool * as your ladyship takes me to be. Escaping hay- fever as fully as in the White mountains, the cli- mate has set me up ; and the new scenes, the total change in all surroundings, have been better for me, as a mere matter of health, than it would have been at White Mountain House, or at Peekskill. I am to-night at Galesburg, where brother Edward was formerly settled, and go next to Joliet, Elgin, and Chicago (for Sunday), to Aurora, Geneva, Chicago (to lecture), ant' last of all to Pawpaw, Mich. (Thursday), and then home, I hope to take tea on Saturday under mine own roof. Surely I ought to be grateful tliat a tour of nearly three months has had no casualty and no single loss of any appointment, tho' I have stretched through three thousand miles, speaking almost evi.ry night, and preaching Sundays ! After getting back towards Omaha, I felt symptoms of hay-fever, and for ten days had some trouble, but it is gone, asthma and all, and my eyes and v^ice have re- turned to duty. ■:ii tsi M k II i I M SI iill 5-56 HENRY WARD BEECHER. "Just looking at the envelope of your letter, I see what a traveller it has been. It went to Sac- ramento, thence to Salt Lake City, thence to Den- ver, then to Chicago, and then vas sent by Pond to me here at Galesburg — but was indeed wel- come, tho' I have been so long accustomed to think of you in England, that it hardly seemed a voice from home until I corrected the associations. There will be ever so much to talk about and enjoy when I get back, but what groans and sighs on Tasker's part, and ohs and ahs on yours, when you learn that I have not been to Yosemite, nor have seen the big trees, nor been in Northern or Southern California. But I saw all I could hold. Mothei's health has been good and improving. She is a notably good traveller. Love to all and to yourself, from your old friend and friend forever, " H. W. Beecher." iiXTRACT FROM A LETTER TO A FRIEND. "Monday Evening, October 28, 1878. ''My dear friend of yars — but not my oldfriefid: Who is old, in whom the soul is vital and inspired ? I was around at 174, Saturday night, to comfort the now grass-widower, and Tasker read me a line or two from you — about red anu white carnations. Imaginary flowers may be better ♦■han none, and only just better. The memory may bring back forms, things, events, but never sensations. You caa see how a carnation looked, but you cannot HENRY WARD BEECHER. ')57 recall the sweetness, tho' you remember tliat it was sweet. After which profound mental philos- ophy, I go on to say that the best part of your letter was the sentence in which you say you will be home this week. Brooklyn does not seem like Brooklyn when you are absent. When you were in Europe, and I was all over the Continent, it did not so much matter. But when I am in Brooklyn and you are under the polar star, it does make a difference. " Mother and I spent two days at the farm last week, and entertained on Thirsday certain friends of . Wednesday was the day of the great gale, and it was simply magnificent on the hill — worth a month of common weather ! By the way, Mrs. says that she asked me to con- vey her invitation to you to spend a week with her, and, as the reason for making it verbal, to say that she did not write letters. So, it was the fault of my memory that it did not come to you straight. *' I wish I could spend a day in Springfield before you leave, but cannot. The are splendid. It is better to have such friends than to own a gold mine. But, my friends are pretty much all saved up for tne next world, for I see but little of them here. " H. W. B." MR. HEECHER TO A FRIEND. "Montreal, Canada, May , 1879. " ( The queen born yesterday is one da old.) ''My dear Friend : This visit has been a success ooH HENKV WARD IJEECHER. ni "f without a blemish. Whatever the newspapers may say, the enthusiasm of the people has passed all bounds. Our march, both days, along the streets was like that of Kossuth in Broadway. They are of a sedate and slow nature, but when this people kindle, it is a conflagration. "Our noble old 13th has covered itself with honor. Nothing better could be asked than their behavior on the way, and here, out of the ranks ; and their marching has called down compliments from the most austere. " We leave to-night, and ofificers and men are more than satisfied — jubilant. No such national testimony of good-will has ever taken place in the Dominion. "I find among ministers and Christian people a deep religious feelin*? of thanksgiving and grat- itude. " I preached this morning to a houseful — say three thousand — and to an audience which repre- sented as great a diversity of people as was as- sembled on the day of Pentecost, but I did not observe the same fruit as that which followed Peter's sermon ! I have sent you some news- papers ; hope soon to see you face to face. "As ever yours, "Henry Ward Beecher." LETTER TO A FRIEND. ( JVi^/i a box of honey and some grapes^ "September 19, 1884. *'My dear Friejid : I send you sweetness unal- HENRY WARD BEECHER. 569 loyed. Ten thousand stings were ready to guard the treasure while it was being collected. But now, not a sting ! And so is many an experience of life. Some troubles of the day and then a hive of honey, pure and sweet, at the end. •' I should have been over often, but that this beggarly hay-fever has made dust and sunlight vexatious for ten days or a fortnight. I had hoped that we should have had you for a week, and that would have been better than a box of honey. " May this last gift of Peekskill, unlike John's book (not John Raymond, but Revelator), be sweet both in the mouth and afterwards. "Yours as ever, ** Henry Ward Beecher." fmi FROM MR. beecher TO A FRIEND. "Peoria, III., April 8, 1886. "Mjy dear Friejid : 'I am well, and I hope that you are enjoying the same blessing.' My trip has been pleasant. Cold, rain, and snow until yes- terday ; no sunshine, except what I carried in my heart, but everywhere my reception has been more than cordial, and mosdy enthusiastic. In Carlisle, in Pittsburgh, crov^ds ; in Dayton, mod- erate ; in Cincinnati, very good ; in Louisville, good, and cordial ; at Bloomington, though a hard- snowing, misty night, yet a full hall. The State University is here, and here some forty-three years ago, about, I delivered a literary lecture, * Moral 111 o60 HENRY WARD BEECHER. Intolerance,' the first ever printed. Some old men remembered it very well. The president of the college is an advanced evolutionist, and the students all go out instructed in the elements of this great revelation of God to modern times. " But, after lecture, we had a special train, and rode to Indianapolis, reaching the city about one A.M.; slept well. Did not go to church in the morning, but called on Julia Merrill towards noon, after napping and dozing after breakfast. At noon, my successor. Rev. Mr. McLeod (brother of Bud- dington Church pastor) called on me, was very cordial, and wanted me to preach in the evening. I could not, as I had agreed to preach in Plymouth Church, Rev. Mr. McCullach. He seemed quite grieved. I have never been asked to preach in the church that I built up, and which is now probably the strongest in the State, for over thirty years. To be sure, I have spent but three Sundays there, and then incognito ; but the last three pastors, in- cluding Dr. Withrow, of Boston, have not hesi- tated to express opposition, and this makes McLeod's cordiality more marked. The church, at night, could not hold the crowds—a thousand went away. The sermon was satisfactory to good evangelical people. On Monday night I lectured on * Conscience,' the lecture which you somewhat cruelly condemned without having heard it, but which has turned out to be, perhaps, the most ac- ceptable of any that I ever made, Moral : don't HENRY WARD BEECHER. 661 judge till you have heard ! But at St. Louis I had a wonderful reception ; there was an audience of over 5,000, General Sherman presided, and introduced me. The success was great; the lecture, * Con jcience.' Thence to Springfield, III. ; poor house ; good lecture ; rain. Thence here ; what the audience will be doth not appear. But, though in a letter it looks as though such a trip was a night and day turmoil, it is, really, a rest and enjoyment. Cars here are parlors. I can read with comfort, am undisturbed by company, can sleep all I want, have no care, though, if I had somebody along with me, I should care immensely. I do get a little lonesome once in a while. "The universal topic on every side is the strike of the Knights of Labor. It is not yet over ; nor does it appear how deep the matter goes. This vast combination of laboring men is at once a thing to be rejoiced over, and to be dreaded. But it will work out in the end for good. " I forgot to say, that on Monday morning, in Indianapolis, the ininisters of all denominations spend the forenoon together — about twenty-five or thirty. Tliey met at Rev. Mr. Hyde's, who married S F 's daughter. I went to the house to see all the cousins, and Hyde insisted on my going in for a moment and greeting the as- sembly. I made a short address, and left them with hand- shaking and hearty sympathy. Epis copalian:^ join in this meeting cordially, as do the ■*). IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) /. ^/ ^**4 J fe^ <■•>«? :/ 5^ /^/^ i. I.I 1.25 I" |50 - iiiilH III 2.5 K 12,2 IIM m 12.0 1.4 II ^^ 1.6 Photographic Sciences Corporation i\^ «^ ^;\ V ;v I k "^ 23 WEST MAIN STPIET WEBSY "»,N.Y. 14580 (716) 872-4503 %' " I o"^ %. 5(32 HENRY WARD BEECHER. CampbeUite Baptists, and all other sects. I shall see you soon, now, and with undiminished love — a whole life of affection ! Give greeting and love to T , who, I hope, is not in bondage to pain. " Good-bye. " Henry Ward Beecher." FROM MR. beecher TO JOHN T. HOWARD. "London, July 6, 1886. ''My dear Tasker : You will have learned from S of my voyage, and reception here. Since then, I have been more and more prospered. On Sunday I preached for Dr. Parker ; the house was very full, and the streets blocked. A policeman said that there were five thousand out of doors. On Thursday the 9th, I preach the mid-day sermon, and the demand for tickets is so great that they are sold at half a crown, as the only way of giving preference. Dr. and Mrs. Parker are extremely kind, and spare neither time nor expense to make our stay agreeable. I have this morning received a deputation from Paris, urging me to spend a week there and in Normandy, but doubt if it will be possible. Pond has between sixty and one hundred applications for lectures, though I shall give but forty. I went with the Parkers last night to see Irving and Miss Terry in Faust It was wonderful; the scenic part was beyond all praise, and the Brocken magnificent. Irving sent to the box where we sat his chief manager, to call us, HENRY WARD UEECHER. 56;) between acts, into a snug little side-room (he was not himself there), where tea, ices, etc., etc., were prepared. After the play we were all invited be- hind the curtain, where a table was spread with all luxuries. Irving was very kind, and Miss Terry overflowing. She had already called upon my wife, with great effusion, and again, last night, treated her with marked distinction and affection. Both of them propose to be at Thursday's sermon. " To-day 1 go to Westminster Abbey. Mother has gone to Covent Market to see fruits and flowers. She is happy as a child, and makes, everywhere, the best impression. We send let- ters and papers to the care of Horatio, as we do not know your address, but so you will get them. I have been in a kind of dream ever since I landed ; the relaxation of the sea has not yet quite passed. Mayor Low called upon us with Mrs. Low. We return call this p. m. G is here. In- deed, Americans have taken possession of London, and are the joy of hotels and apartment-houses. We are to dine with Mr. Irving and Miss Terry next Tuesday, from one till four ; the Parkers, too. They were a litde prejudiced against these people of the stage, but are becoming quite warm friends. I have an invitation from Dean Bradley, of West- minster Cathedral, to attend afternoon service there, and to dine or sup with him afterward. I preach for Allon next Sunday morning. The calls for sermons, addresses, lectures, is beyond count. 564 HENRY WARD BEECHER. But I refuse all except Sunday service, once a day at that, and the lecturing is yet to begin. " Give love to S and to all loving friends, and believe me your long-time, loving friend, " Henry Ward Beecher." from mr. beecher to j. t. howard. "London, July lo, 1886. ^'My dear Tasker : Your letter came duly, and was very gi-ateful to me, and yesterday I received one from S , reporting your opinion of my state-room and askinof a letter for Grace. Now you were never more mistaken in your life, touching our state-room. It was on the main deck, and at the very point of least motion. It was quite well ventilated, it was roomy, and it had no smell. The deck above ours had the odor of the dining-room, and the spar-deck had no cabins except the captain's and surgeon's. 1 took meals in the dining-room only two days — the first and the last. Though not very sick, I was never well an hour, except between Queenstown and Liver- pool, where we landed between, nine and ten Sat- urday, and were safe in our hotel before eleven o'clock. Since my arrival, I have been over- whelmed with letters from everybody, everywhere, for sermons, lectures, visits, tickets to preaching, etc., etc. The Sunday morning and Thursday sermons in Dr. Parker's church were thronged, and thousands could not gret near the church. 1- HENRY WARD BEECHER. .56o "July 25. This letter has lain in a multitude of letters. In fact, neither I nor Pond are able even to read tlie flood of letters which overwhelms us from all England. I should think the whole population had forsaken all avocations, and taken to writing letters en masse. " I had a good Sunday with Allon, another with Simons, and to-day with Clifford, a Baptist ; thus, I have preached in four churches, besides the two Thursday sermons of Dr. Parker." from mr. beecher to a friend. "London, 1886. "I spent a day with Irving at his cottage — Charing. Went upon one of those ' gentlemen's coaches,' with select party, to Dorking — beautiful ! Had a dinner given me by Gillig, of 'Ameri an Exchange.' Attended Lyceum twice — * Faust,' and 'The Bells;' this last was Saturday night, 24th. Opposite me, in boxes, were Prince Albert, his wife, Duke of Connaught and wife, and others of the royal family. Had a full view ! Am invited to accept a reception by Congregational ministers of London and vicinity ; also, in September, by the Congregational Conference of England and Wales. I dined with the Lord Mayor, lectured in Exeter Hall, with Lords, Ladies, and Commons, Deans, etc. ; had a good time at Bristol ; better yet at Cardiff, W^ales ; and in Swansea, was in danger of being eaten up by the people. Enthu- s ii' III ll lii I » t1: 066 HENRY WARD BEECHER. siasm run like fire. Give love to all, and reserve much for yourself. " Henry Ward Beecher." from mr. beecher to a friend. " Thanksgiving Day, 1886. " On Thanksgiving Day I send you two little wreaths, which have been burned in and cannot fade or suffer by time, to save for me. Thank you for the summer and autumn. The v/inter is almost come. 1 feel it. But there is spring beyond. Yours truly, •• H. W. Beecher." XII. BEECHER S AUTOBIOGRAPHY. FROM this point on Mr. Beecher continued his work with what appeared redoubled energy and zeal. The multiplicity of his engage- ments was a constant source of wonder to his friends and the public, yet he was in the sturdi- est health. Plymouth Church was crowded; her prayer-meetings were always well filled, her wide horizoned missions followed faithfully along their prescribed paths, and in every element the great body of well organized and thoroughly disciplined men and women of which he was at once the Elder Brother, the inspirer and chief, did well its work. In the public favor and esteem Mr. Beecher continued to be the foremost citizen of the Republic. Great men honored him in public and in pri- vate, but although favor was shown him to an unprecedented degree, and everywhere courteous, affectionate recognition of his great talents and unmeasureable services was extended him, he continued as simple, as childlike, as ingenuous, 84 (667) II 1 '■V 1:: 5f58 HKNRY WARD BEECHER. as open-faced, as approachable as at any time in his long and useful career. It would be difficult, perhaps, along this line of exhibit, to point out any single trait as most con- spicuous, but one thing is certain, he was always, from youth to old age, friendly with the young. He had a knack, a gift of drawing young people to him. He seived them, he aided them, he pushed many a tiny bark, with timid, apprehensive captain, from the shore upon an ocean of success- ful voyage. A boy quick-witted, observing and in position to know much of Mr. Beecher's life in his early days in Brooklyn and along the stormy path he trod until the hour of his death, says of him : "He was the only man in public life, preacher, orator, scientist, lecturer, I ever met, who was not anxious concerning his appearance in print." A few years prior to his death a clergyman who had blown hot and cold toward Mr. Beecher at various times in his life, and who had done him serious injury, sought to compensate somewhat for that by a fulsome sketch of the great man who, however, thoroughly understood the writer and his motive. When the book was brought him he declined to look at it and said : " I do not approve ; I disap- prove of this. It is time enough to sound the horn of triumph when the crown is won and the hand of death has set its seal. I do not like this ; I do not approve of it ; I do not endorse it; I will m Bl"'s' • m m\\u HENRY WARD HKF.CHF.R. 569 have nothing to do with it ; I won't even read it." And as he felt about that book so he felt during his entire life in respect to what might be said about him. He was sensitive to a degree about misrepre- sentation of his thought, his feeling. He knew every reporter, and they all had con- stant access to him. Many a time has he saved belated scribes from rebuke and possible loss of position, and one of the first points he insisted upon was that in his church there should be room for men who repre- sented the great audience beyond the walls of old Plymouth. He took the sensible ground that courtesy and facility that aided a reporter whose work would be seen on the following morning by tens of thousands of readers, was a very much better exhibit of common-sense than a courtesy that might be shown to some tided personage or even a brother minister. Beecher was always a great swimmer. There was in the early days of his Brooklyn pastorate, near Fulton Ferry, a huge floating boat-house kept by an old-time exhorter named Gray. Thither Mr. Beecher used to go in his younger days and with headlong jump, plunge deep into the East river waves, spouting and puffing with all the energy of a fully developed whale, an expert swim- mer, a diver better than any boy in the City of Churches. The price for a bath was a shilling, 670 HENRY WARD BEECHER. 1I»" Am and in the words of the hoy alhided to, " I never shall forget the odd sensation I experienced one day when, meeting the dominie in the street, he asked if I would go down to the ferry and take a bath. I was about eight years old and not over- burdened with spending money, and blundy told him I would like to go first rate, but I hadn't got the shilling. A quizzical look spread all over his ruddy face, as laughingly he took my by the hand and said : ' Come along. When you ask a young lady to take ice-cream with you, you don't expect her to pay for it, do you ? ' " Later on a number of us boys clubbed to- gether and started a debating society. Govern- or Banks, John H. Raymond, President of Vassar College, and Mr. Beecher were among the lec- turers. We hired the Athenaeum, corner of At- lantic and Clinton streets, Brooklyn, and with a flourish of trumpets announced Mr. Beecher in his famous lecture on ' Character,' and, by the way, his clean-cut distinction drawn that night between character and reputation produced an impression upon many a mature mind, and started thoughts in many a youthful mentality that have been a vast usefulness in stormy periods since. It fell to my lot to introduce the lecturer, and just before we went on, while waiting in the litde ante-disrobing-room, I said, suiting the action to the word, with chin in the air, ' This is the way 1 am going to sit.' Beecher laughed and said : HENRY WARD BKIOCHER 571 jovern- 'No, no; put down your chin. Whenever you see a man with his chin in the air you may know there is nothing in the front of his head.' Contin- uing he asked : * What are you going to say ? ' I told him I wanted to announce that the next lecture would be delivered by Mr. Banks of Massachusetts, but I really didn't know how to do it. • Why,' said he, ' do it just as you have done it to me. Tell them what you have to say and then sit down.' The receipts of the lecture were about $175 ; the expenses, including rental of the hall, advertising and attendance, about $50. After the lecture was over, Mr. Beecher, my cousin and I walked home together, and as we said 'Good-night,' at the door of my father's house, while shaking hands with him, I left in his hand his fee of 5^50. Recognizing in a moment what it was he pushed it back with a gesture al- most of impatience, certainly of annoyance, and said : * Nonsense. Keep that to pull you through.' " On invitation of Major Pond, Mr. Beecher went abroad in June, 1886. He was tired, but he did not know it. His brain was thinning, but he did not appreciate the fact. Had he gone abroad to rest, to look about and enjoy the hospitality of many friends he might have been spared years to come. He was ever industrious, and although he thought he took ; W i 672 HENRY WARD HKECHER. good care of himself his work drove him, for in the excitement of the hour his brain was strained to its utmost tension and unconsciously the fibre was affected. In this marvellous success Major Pond felt more than pecuniary interest. He had been his friend for years, and although in the thirteen years he had paid him the enor- mous sum of ^242,000, Mr. Beecher having de- livered, under his management, 1,214 lectures, it gratified his heart more to see the welcome and to feel the general pulse, than it helped his pocket. He paid Mr. Beecher 5200 a lecture for fifty- seven lectures in England, and bore also all the expenses of the entire trip which amounted to more than 5^7,500, and gave him in addition the faithful and devoted service of a watchful and ex- perienced friend. When they reached Liverpool then went to hear Mr. Gladstone, concerning whose speech Mr. Beecher said : •' It was a very powerful and very luminous speech. Here is a man fagged out with the campaign, with his voice nearly scotched ; if a man can make a speech under such circumstances, what would it be were he fresh and elastic ? Of course, I was thinking all the time how it would affect the British public. To us Americans it is a stupen- dous argument in favor of Home Rule, which is as simple as the alphabet to our part of the world. Home Rule is the key-note to the whole American HENRY WARD BEECHER. 573 system. The British government is a suppressed democracy. If all the men in England were as free to vote as in our own land, this question would be very easily settled." Mr. Beecher remained in London from June 29 to July 4, so that he took what for him was a thorough rest; but, as Major Pond writes, he said, •' I was never made for rest," nor was he. He attended Dr. Parker's church, known as the City Temple, where, although he was in the audience and not in the pulpit, he was referred to by the preacher, and the mention of his name elicited such long-continued applause that he was com- pelled to rise, go upon the platform and respond as follows : "An old Methodist minister of my acquaintance, in preaching a revival sermon, commented upon the difficulty of winning the amiable and the kind, and he illustrated it by saying : * We can easily cut the grain that leans away from us, but the sickle slips over the grain that leans towards us.' I could have faced an oppugnant audience, and spread my sails to the wind of opposition easily ; but so much kindness disarms me. When I heard my honored brother preaching, I said to myself, ' He is a lion.' But when I saw him prac- tising these seductive arts, I said, ' He is a fox.' (Much laughter.) " I represent this morning, I think, somewhat, that most useful instrument of bands, the drum ; 674 HENRY WARD BEECHER. I am very empty, and therefore just qualified to make a good deal of noise. I have but very little that I can say to you. Kind reference has been made to clouds that overhung the years of the past; they have gone down below the horizon and are forgotten. Contrary to my expectations, I have come again to the land of my fathers. From the county of Kent sprung my line, with a dash of blood from Wales. I must confess I am one of those in whom sentiment has predominant power; and while I go into cathedrals, both here and on the Continent, with profound sensibility, I also profess, when I step on the shores of my fathers' land, to have coming to me all the sensa- tions that a son should have for his father and for his ancestors. I will not undertake to be the laudatoi of England, but this I can say : Through light and through dark, tlirough good and through evil, she has proved herself to be the right hand of Almighty God for light, for liberty, and for victory. (Applause.) And if we have unfolded on our continent institutions which might well be copied, with modifications, at the old home, it is because we have so much room to build larger ; the architect was England ; we have but enlarged the patterns given us, and built as she would have built if she had had an island big enough, and if she had not been encum- bered with various and commixtured institutions that must be removed before the foundations HENRY WARD PEECHER. 575 of the new and more glorious future shall be laid. "And in coming to England, I recognize with profound gratitude how much I, as well as every other truth-speaking man that loves God and his fellow-men, owe to the religious literature of England. The very men whom I could never follow have led me all the days of my life, and that which I could not take from them as food, I have received from them sometimes as chastise- ment. (Laughter.) It is a good thing for one to be chastised in this world, in various ways, as my brother here can testify ; for as a marble is but a rough and rude block until the chisel has cut away all the encumbrances that hide the true por- traiture within it, so a man that is unchiselled is a rude stone yet, and the man that has been very much chiseled is apt to be an Apollo or an Apol- lyon, as the case might be. (Laughter.) ** England ! I love her churches, but above all I love those in whose face bnines the glory of God as it is in Christ Jesus. You are not strangers to me ; you are my blood-kindred, and it is the blood of Christ. You are my brothers, my fathers, my mothers, my sisters, my children. With all my heart, I say, I thank you for the expression of your confidence, and yet more for your love. I shall be glad according to the measure of my strength to serve my brother* and you, but more than all to serve Him whom i love above father, 676 HENRY WARD BEECHER. or mother, or brother, or sister ; .vho loved me and redeemed me by His precious blood. And in Him let us unite in some words of prayer : " Dear Lord, we come to Thee again : not as the needy, for we are not needy ; we are fuller than we can carry. Thy mercies overflow our cup ; it drops down with perpetual overfilling. We come to Thee because, when the heart is full and we do not know what to think nor what to do, in the bosom of Thy love we find rest. Grant that the love which we have for Thee may be purified by suffering, by striving, by endurance, by growing knowledge, that all other knowledge may rise up and shine in the lustre and light of Thy love. And as God is love, and they who love are of God. O blessed God, look upon those that love Thee and are of Thee, and that rejoice through Thee and will rejoice, through death, that they are the chil- dren of God because they are the children of love. Give to every heart that which it needs, and keep from every one that which it asks and needs not. Go into every sanctuary of the soul, unseen and sacred from men, and bless them there ; go into every household and abide with them there ; break the bread to every household, and open Thy hand and say, ' Peace be with you.' " Bless thy dear servant. Already blessed, may his blossoms be yet fresher, and the fruit more abundant and sweeter. Abide in his household ; abide with this congregation ; abide with us all. HENRY WARD BEECHER, 577 Be pleased to remember thy servant the Queen of this Empire, and endue her with long life and with more and more benign influence, that she may, an exemplar of purity, lead on the way to higher and higher glorious civilization. Remem- ber those that are to be joined with her in authority, that the light of a divine wisdom may shine upon their path; and in all die honest strife and struggle of men for that which they think best, be pleased, O Lord, to divide between thought and purpose, and lead out the right thing. May the glory of the Lord stand over this great nation for a thousand years, and again for a thousand years. Lord, hear us, love us, take care of us, for thine own name's sake. Amen." Thence on his English trip was a triumph. He preached in the City Temple, and hundreds were turned away. Every paper, religious and daily, had kind notices of him ; indeed, more generous newspaper criticism could not have been written than Mr. Beecher received at the hands of the secular and religious press. The Daily News published his sermons £'(?r<5^//;«, and all the religious papers spoke of him with words full of affectionate and tender recognition. Mr. Beecher dined with the Lord Mayor, and with many Americans in London who felt a re- flected glory from the honor paid their distin- guished countryman. Among others who enter- 578 HENRY WARD BEECH EK. tained him was Mr. Henry F. Gillig, president of the American Exchange, who invited to meet him the American minister, Mr. Phelps ; Sir Thomas Chambers, the recorder of London ; the Hon. Stanley Matthews, justice of the Supreme Court of the United States ; Rev. James Fleming, canon of York ; Rev. Dr. Parker ; Hon. Thomas M. Waller, United States consul-general ; Sir Francis WyattTruscott; Rev. Wm. Barker, canon of Wor- cester ; Rev. Dr. Rogers, prebendary of St. Paul's ; Mr. J. C. Horsley, treasurer of the Royal Aca- demy ; Professor Thomas Yeatman ; Edward Simmons, president of the New York Stock Ex- change ; Rev. H. R. Haweis ; Hon. George W. Savage, United States consul at Belfast ; Hon. Joseph B. Hughes, United States consul at Bir- mingham ; and among other Americans, Mr. James R. Osgood, Mr. Charles Wyndham, Mr. J. H. Copleson, Mr. Townsend Percy, Mr. E. M. Knox, of New York, Mr. Marcus R. Mayer, Mr. Marshall P. Wilder, Major J. B. Pond and quite a number of leading newspaper writers, a distin- guished company, which alternated •' God Save the Queen" with the "Star-Spangled Banner" and "three cheers for the Rev. Henry Ward Beecher." Mr. Henry Irving, manager of the Lyceum Theatre, who, with Miss Ellen Terry, had received conspicuous attention and hospitality f'-om Mr, Beecher while they were on their professional HENRY WARD BEECHER. 57d tour through the United States, invited the party to witness the play of •* Faust," which they did with great edification. About this time an absurd rumor was started that Mr. Beecher was preach- ing the Gospel for money and that tickets to hear him preach were sold at the door of the house of the Lord. The rumor spread throughout the United Kingdom and did him injury there as it subsequently did at home. Whereupon Major Pond, who never hesitates to come to the front in the service of a friend, wrote a card for general publication, for a copy of which the writer is in- debted to him. "To THE Editor of 'The Baptist:* "Dear Sir: May I be allowed to correct a statement, made in your excellent paper of the 23d inst, concerning Mr. Beecher and his lectures and sermons? " Mr. Beecher does not charge for preaching outside his own pulpit in Plymouth Church, Brook- lyn. I have managed all his lecture tours for the past fifteen years, and I have always arranged that he should preach on the Sabbath while absent from home, and that under no circumstances was there to be a charge of any kind made for hear- ing him preach the Gospel. True, when in other cities, in order to protect pew-holders and mem- bers of the regular congregations, it has been necessary to issue tickets of admission to the side 680 HENRY WARD BEECHER. doors before the house was opened to the gen- eral public. " Mr. Beecher is a lecturer as well as a preacher. He delivers on an average 150 lectures a year, and has during some seasons lectured upwards of 250 times, besides preaching every Sabbath. He lectures becaus'? he finds it profitable both to him- self and to thof-e who are glad to pay their money to hear him ; but never has he received a penny for preaching outside his own pulpit; and if London were bullion, and he could have it for preaching one sermon here, it would not even tempt him. " Mr. Beecher receives from me the same pay per lecture that I give him in America. My busi- ness is furnishing lectures and high-class enter- tainments to lyceums and lecture associations in America. I supply lecture and musical societies throughout the United States with the best talent to be had. It is part of the American system of education, and the Americans are educated to it and generally prefer it to trashy shows. They expect great men to address them ; and when Dean Stanley, Professor Huxley and Herbert Spencer came to America, I had hundreds of appli- cations from all parts of the land asking their terms and approximate dates ; and when I replied that these men could not be secured, many of my constituents accused me of shiftlessness and neg- lect of business, and poured upon me all sorts IIENRV WARD BEECHER. 581 of abuse because I did not supply them. I have 'imported' a great deal of English talent: George Dawson, Canon Kingsley, Bellew, Mat- thew Arnold, and last season Canon Farrar, who made a great deal of money in America, lectured every day and preached twice every Sabbath for three months. He was not abused nor falsely accused because of his success. Thousands tried to get tickets to hear him preach. They were not to be had, as the church congregations where he preached had them for themselves and friends. Canon Farrar received ^2CX) each for his last three lectures in America, and the management made as much more. The public were not only satisfied but grateful that so rare an opportunity had been offered them. " Mr. Beecher is not a rich man, nor a money- lover. He does not know what becomes of his money. He lives the Gospel that he preaches. He has many drafts on his purse that he would like to meet. He does all that he can to assist the needy. He has 2,8cx3 members of his church, all as dear as his children to him. Reverses over- take money. His name is the first that goes on a note to give a deserving friend a new start in life. Could you but know a hundreth part of the good he is constantly doing, you would be as ardent a believer as I am. I bring him to England during- his summer vacation to lecture. He grets every penny from me for his lectures that he gets M 582 HENRY WARD BEECMER. \ from any service in Great Britain. He wants to preach every Sunday, so I leave Saturdays open, and place the Suiidays where he likes to preach. If it were money we were after I would have him lecture Saturdays and rest Sundays, and make £2^ to ;^ioo myself, and he ^50 better, so far as the world's goods are concerned. The minis- ters for whom he preaches manage their own congregations, and Mr. ^Jeecher does not know as much about it as you do. " Referring to Mr. Spurgeon on this subject of ' charging to hear a sermon,' where ' the mana- gers charged a shilling to hear him preach,' and he remarked that, ' If he had known it he never would have preached,' I will ask you to kindly ex- plain the difference between charging a shilling and doing as I have on three different occasions when I went to hear Mr. Spurgeon with some friends. By putting money in a box at the side door I was allowed to go in and get seats, and I always found that a good-sized congregation was accommodated in this way, by * paying what they liked ' before the main doors were opened to the general public. *' If this is not charging an admission, I want to know what it is. I certainly could not have got a comfortable seat unless I complied with this custom. I am yours very truly, "J. B. Pond, " Manager of Henry Ward Beecher's Lectures." ii HENRY WARD BEECHER. 583 Having accepted an invitation to dine with Mr. Irving at his charming home in Hammersmith, London, they went to the Grange, Mr. Irving's beautiful villa of some six acres, which is, accord- ing to Doctor Parker, "a poem in a dwelling," and concerning which Mr. Beecher said, "This is the only place I have yet seen that surpasses Peekskill." But details of this trip need not be given here. Major Pond has in his memorial told the story. Suffice it that it was a triumph for the great preacher from the moment he put his foot on English soil until the hour he left. All men seemed to combine to do him honor. When it is understood that he rested but one Sunday, and that the only one he had to himself, save the one upon the voyage, for eighteen months, and that he delivered his full quota of lectures for Major Pond, having gone through eighteen months of continuous labor before starting and coming back again to his manifold occupation, will it not also be understood that the man not only died in har- ness, but that he worked himself to death ? It will be remembered that this last trip to England was made in the summer and fall of 1886, less than a year prior to his death, so that it seems as though an autobiography spoken in the presence of the Congregational ministers of London, with their wives and guests, to meet whom Mr. Beecher had been invited, at a social 35 ,'i! i»:i \,i. 684 HENRY WARD BEECHER. gathering In Memorial Hall, must of necessity be regarded as his final utterance, so far as his personal religious convictions are concerned, and with that view it is here reproduced from the Christian World: " The Rev. Henry Ward Beecher, who, on rising, was received with prolonged acclamation, said : " * My life has been a long and public life al- ready, and the experiences of that life in the wilderness, in populous cities, at home and abroad, have been many and critical and memorable. But I must say that your presence to-night, your cordiality, your recognition, and the words into which it has been poured, constitute by p11 odds the most memorable experience of my wnole life. (Applause.) It is not a matter to-night of vanity on my part. Not at the judgment-seat shall I feel more solemn than I feel in the presence of so many men consecrated to the work of Christ and the salvation of men ; and your testimony that, through good report and bad report, under all pressures and difficulties, on the whole I have shown to you Christian fidelity and simple man- liness, that testimony I shall leave as a legacy to my children. (Applause.) I dare not think of myself what you have been kind enough to ex- press. I only know this — and I say it as in the conscious presence of Christ, my Lord and my all — that, by the grace given to me of my God HENRY WARD BEECIIER. 686 and my mother, I have endeavored during my long Hfe most disinterestedly and most earnestly to do the things that I believed would please Christ in the salvation of men. I have had no ambitions, I have sought no laurels; I have delib- erately rejected many things that would have been consonant to my taste. " * It would have been for me a great delight to be a scholar ; I should have relished exceedingly to have perfected my thought in the study, and to have given it such qualities as that it should stand as classics stand. But when the work was pressed upon me and my relations to my own country and to mankind became urgent, I re- member, as if it were but yesterday, when I laid my literary ambition and my scholarly desire upon the altar and said, " If I can do more for my Master and for men by my style of thinking and working, I am willing to work in a second-rate way ; I am willing to leave writing behind my back. I am willing not to carve statues of beauty, but simply to do the things that would please God iln the salvation of men." I have had every experi- ence almost that is possible to men. I have been sick and I have been well ; I have been liked and I have not been liked (laughter) ; I have been in the wilderness among the poor and the emigrant ; I have drifted into the cities where the great and refined are ; I have known what poverty was and I have known what it was to have almost enough. 586 HENRY WARD BEECHER. (Laughter.) But these things have all been in cidental. "'And now to begin at the beginning, for thiv address must be biographical. I dismiss my modesty and I go at myself now. (Applause.) My mother, born in the Episcopal Church, and a devout adherent to that form of faith and govern, ment, married my fathei. She was a sensible woman, evinced not only by that, but by the fact that she united herself to the Congregational Church in Litchfield, Conn. ; she was a woman of extraordinary graces and gifts; a woman not demonstrailvc , with a profmind philosophical na- ture and of wonderful depth of affection ; but with a serenity that was simply charming. While my father was in the early religious experience under Calvinistic teaching, debating and swell- ing, and floating here and there, and tormenting himself, she threw the oil of faith and trust on the waters and they were quieted, for she trusted in God. " ' Now, when I was born, I was the fourth, fifth, sixth, or seventh child — somewhere thereabouts. (Laughter.) *" There ^ere six sons, I know, in all, and not one of them escaped from the pulpit. My mother dedicated me to the work of the foreign missionary; she laid her hands upon me, wept over me and set me apart to preach the Gospel among the heathen, and I have been doing it all HKNRY WARD BEECHER. £87 my life long (much applause) ; for it so happens one does not need to go far from his own country to find his audience before him. From her I re- ceived my love of the beautiful, my poetic tem- perament, which I beg you to take notice is cul- pable for a good deal of that heresy to which al- lusion has been made. (Laughter.) From her, also, I received simplicity and childlike faith in God. I went through the colic and anguish of hyper-Calvinism while I was yet quite young. Happily my constitution was strong. (Laughter.) I regard the old hyper-Calvinistic system as the making of as strong men as ever met on the face of this earth ; but I think it kills five hundred where it makes one. (Laughter.) This is a meeting of perfect frankness. (" Hear, hear.") '"When I was a boy eight years old and up- ward, I knew as much about decrees, foreor- dination, election, reprobation, as you do now ; I used to be under the murky atmosphere, and I said to myself, " Oh, if I could only repent, then I should have a Saviour." As years went on, and I entered my collegiate course, I remember with shame and mortification the experiences through which I went ; the pleading for mercy, the long- ings for some token of acceptance and the prayers, that became ritualistic from their repe^^ition, that I might have that which was hanging over my head and waiting for me to take, and I did not know how — I did not know how. When at last it li!ii;-iFrai:rai Mi" 688 HENRY WARD BEECHER. i: I i i^ pleased God to reveal to me His infinite, universal love to mankind, and I beheld Him as a helper, as the soul's physician, and 'i. felt because I was weak I could come to Him ; because I did not know how, and if I did know, I had not the strength to do the things that were right — that was the invitation that He gave to me out of my conscious weakness and want. I will not repeat the scene of that morning- when ligfht broke fairly on my mind ; how one might have thought that I was a lunatic escaped from confinement; how I ran up and down through the primeval for- est of Ohio shouting, • Glory, glory ! " sometimes in loud tones, and at other times whispered in an ecstasy of joy and surprise ; all the old troubles gone, and, light breaking on my iiind, I cried, " I have found my God, I have found my God ! " " ' From that hour I consecrated myself to the work of the ministry. " ' I had been stud) ing theology. " 'You would not suspect it, but I know a good deal of theology. (Laughter.) " 'Well, I was called to work in Ohio and in In- diana, and very soon I found that my work was very largely a missionary work, for the States were then very young — it was fifty years ago — and they were very largely peopled by emigrants, men that had come without fortune to make for- tune. I went through the woods, and through camp-meetings, and over prairies, everywhere. HENRY WARD BEECHER. 589 My vacations were all missionary tours, preach- ing Christ for the hope of salvation. I am not saying this to show you how I came to the knowl- edge of Christ, but to show you how I cam.e to the habit and forms of my ministry. I tried everything onto folks. I had an active mind and did a good deal of reading, and was brought up in the school of dispute, where were my father and Dr. Tyler, and Dr. Taylor, and Dr. Porter, and Dr. Woods, and other men that have re- pented of their orthodoxy long ago in heaven. (Laughter.) I mention this to show how it was that I took on the particular forms which have maintained themselves measurably through my life. " 'There are a great many of you that think that I do not believe in theology. There was a sort of vailed allusion to that in the address — not very veiled methinks. (Laughter.) " ' My ministry begun in the West, as I have said. *'T was fresh from the controversies of New England. I went to Cincinnati for the study of theology with Dr. Wilson, as stiff a man and as orthodox as Calvin himself, and as pugnacious as ten Calvins rolled into one. He arraigned my father for heterodoxy ; he had to go through the trial of the Presbytery, and the Synod of the Gen- eral Assembly kicked it all out. You need not ask me whether I was disgusted or not, when I siill mill I ll!iiii!ii.i!;l lifii! \V' 'i 1 \it iiii 1 ii Mi II ii mil 1 690 HENRY WARD BEECHER. 1 saw all the wild work of warring, pestilent theol- ogy, and all that strife with acquiescence or with sympathy. Then, in conneccion with that, the General Assembly of the Presbyterian Church broke in two ; one half was *' new school " and the other half was " old school." The new-school Presbyterianism in America means Calvinism, with Scotch and Irish thought-leavening, and the Middle States and the Western were largely populated by the school-masters and the preachers that came from Scotland and Ireland. I need not say that they brought their peculiarities with them. *' ' Now, seeing this fight, degenerating often- times into the most scandalous enmities, I turned away in absolute disgust from all these things and said : " My business shall be to save men, and to bring to bear upon them those views that are my comfort, that are the bread of life to me," and I went out among them almost entirely cut loose from the ordinary church institutions and agen- cies, knowing nothing but " Christ and Mini cruci- fied," the sufferer for mankind. Did not the men around me need such a Saviour ? Was there ever such a friend as I found? Every sympathy of my being was continually solicited for the ignorance, for the rudeness, for the aberrations, for the avarice, for the quarrelsomeness of the men among whom I was, and I was trying every form and presenting Christ as a medicine to men ; HENRY WARD BEECHER. 591 le to men ; and as I went on and more and more tried to preach Christ, the clouds broke away and I began to have a distinct system in my own mind. For I had been early in alliance with scientific pursuits. I had early been a phrenologist, arid I am still — all that is left of it in me ; and I had followed all the way up with a profound conviction that Ged had two revelations in this world, one of the book and the other of the rock, and I meant to read them both — the Old Testament and the New — and not to shut out the light. I had to do this in such a sense as to be just to myself, though I knew it brought doubt and often suspicion upon me among my brethren ; but I had r. ot time to attend to that. (Laughter.) " * When they said to me, " You are not ortho- dox," I replied, " Very well, be it ) ; I am out on another business." I understand that call that has been sounding down through 2,000 years, and is sounding yet ; ' Follow me, and I will make you fishers of men." I dedicated myself not to be a fisher of ideas, nor of books, nor of sermons, but a fisher of men, and in this work I very soon came to the point in which I felt dissatisfied with that whole realm of theology which I now call the machinery of religion, which has in it some truth, and I would it had more. (Laughter.) But I came to have this feeling, that it stood in the way of sinful men. I found men in distress, in peril of soul on account of views which I did not be- 'v r 592 HENRY WARD BEECHER. Have were true, or if true, not in any such pro- portion. If you want to know why I have been fierce against theology, that is it: because I thought with Mary, and I said time and again, " They have taken away my Lord, and I do not know where they have laid Him." It seemed to me that men could not believe in such a God ns I heard preached about, that men could not believe such a schedule of truth as I had seen crystallized and promoted among men. " ' I do not care the turn of my hand about a man's philosophy ; I do not care about one sys- tem or another ; any system that will bring a man from darkness to faith and love I will tolerate ; and any system that lets down the curtain be- tween God and men, whether it is canonical priest or church service or church methods, whether it is the philosophical or theological — anything that blurs the presence of God, that makes the heavens black and the heart hopeless — I will fight it to Jhe death. (Loud applause.) '"Well, a little later on — this, perhaps, will cover the first twenty years of my ministry — be- fore I found the water deep enough for me to swim in, I came insensibly into connection with public questions ; I was sucked into the political controversies and the moral reformation of the age ; and just at the time questions were coming up which involved every principle of rectitude, of morality, of humanity and of religion. My HENRY WARD BEECHER. 593 father was too old; the controversies came on when he was failing; he was cautious in his way ; he was afraid that his son Henry would get himself in^o difficulties. " * But I took no counsel with men. " ' When I came to Brooklyn, some dear men, who are now at rest, said, with the best intention, "You have a blessed chance, and you can come to very good influence if you do not throw your- self away ; " and they warned me not to preach on slavery and on some other topics that at times were up in the public mind. I do not know what it is in me — whether it is my father or my mother, or both of them — but the moment you tell me that a thing that ought to be done is unpopular, I am right there every time. (Loud applause.) I fed on the privilege of making men hear things, because I was a public speaker. I gloried in my gifts, not because they brought praise, but because they brought the other thing continually. But men would come, and would hear, and I re- joiced in it, and, as my Master knows, I laid all these tributes and all the victories that they brought at the feet of Him who is the liberator of the world. Jesus knows that for His sake I smof^ with the sword and with the spear, not be- cause I loved controversy, but because I loved truth and humanity, and because I saw base men truckle and bargain ; because I saw that the cause of Christ was likely to suffer. 'Iii 1 y; m III ' III 'i 1 1 Ijp 1 iiill T'll 694 HENRY WARD BEECHER. " ' I fought, and I will fight to the end. (Loud applause.) '"WiLl> this brief analysis of the lines of de- velopment, allow me to say a word in regard more especially to my theological views. And first let me say that I think I am as orthodox a man as there is in this world. (Laughter.) Well, what are the tests of orthodoxy? Man univer- sally is a sinner ; man universally needs to be born again ; there is in the nature of God that power and influence that can convert a man and redeem him from his animal life ; and it is possible for man so to bring to bear this divine influence in the ministration of the Gospel as that men shall be awakened and convicted and converted and built up in the faith of Jesus Christ. " • There is my orthodoxy. " ' But how about the Trinity? "'I do not understand it, but I accept it. If anybody else understands it I have not met him yet ; but it seems to me that that is the easiest way of rendering the different testimonies of words of truth in the New Testament. Neither do I see any philosophical objection to it at all, and I accept it without questioning. "'What about original sin? There has been so much actual transgression that I have not had time to go back onto that. On what grounds may a man hope ? On the atonement of Christ? Yes ; if you want to interpose that word, atone- -j'j'irtiaa HENRY WARD BEECHER. 595 ment, on that ground, unquestionably, I am ac- customed to say Christ saves men. But how ? That is His lookout, not mine. I think that be- cause the nature of God is sanative. God is love. " If ye being evil know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more shall your Father which is in heaven give good gifts to them which ask them ? " If you choose to fix it in this way, and say that Christ saw it possible to do so and thus, and so and thus, and that was the atone- ment he made, and if you take any comfort in it, I shall not quarrel with you. But it is enough for me to know this, that Jesus Christ, God in the flesh, has proclaimed to whomsoever will, health, life, new life — " born again ; " he has offered these, and therefore, I no more want to question how He does it than a sick man questions the doctor be- fore he takes a pill. If he says, " Doctor, what is in it ? " The doctor says, " Take it and you will find out what is in it." If men think I am hetero- dox because I do not believe this, that and the other explanation of the atonement of Jesus Christ, it is enough for me to say I believe in Christ, and I believe Christ is atonement. " * Now, if you ask me whether I believe in the divinity of Christ, I do not believe in anything else. " ' Let a man stand and look at the sun ; then ask him what he sees beside. "♦Nothing; it Winds him. There is nothing mf§^\\ m l!WSIli',«, ,.,'^||] iili 696 KENRY WARD BEECHER. else to me when I am thinking of God ; it fills the whole sphere, the heaven of heavens and the whole earth and all time ; and out of that bound- lessness of love and that infiniteness of divine faculty and capacity it seems to me that He is, to my thought, what summer is when I see it march- ing on after the cold winter is over. I know where the light comes from and where the warmth comes from. When I see anything going on for good, and for the staying of evil, I know it is the Sun of Righteousness, and the name to me is Je- sus — every time Jesus. For Him I live, for Him I love, for Him I labor, for Him I rejoice in my remaining strength, for Him I thank God that I have yet so much in me that can spend and be spent for the only one great cause which should lift itself above every cause in this whole world. (Applause.) " ' To preach the gospel of Jesus Christ, to have Christ so melted and dissolved in you that when you preach your own self you preach Him as Paul did, to have every part of you living and luminous with Christ, and then to make use of everything that is in you — your analogical reasoning, your logical reasoning, your imagination, your mirth- fulness, your humor, your indignation, your wrath — ^to take everything that is in you, all steeped in Jesus Christ, and to throw yourself with all your power upon a congregation — that has been my theory of preaching the Gospel. A good many HENRY WARD BEECHER. 697 folks have laughed at the idea of my being a fit preacher because I laughed, and because I made somebody else laugh. I never went out of my way to do it in my life, but if some sudden turn of a sentence, like the crack of a whip, sets men off, I do not think any worse of it for that — not a bit. I have felt that man should consecrate every gift that he has in him that has any relation to the persuasion of men and to the melting of men — that he should put them on the altar, kindle them all, and let them burn for Christ's sake. (Ap- plause.) " * I have never sought singularity, and I never avoided singularity. " ' When they wanted some other kind of teach- ing I have always said, " Get it. If you want my kind, here I am ready to serve you ; if you do not, serve yourself better." Now there is one more thing that I want to say something about, aside from these central influential fountain doctrines — that is, church economy, ordination and ordinance. I regard it as true that there is laid down in the New Testament no form of church government whatever, nor of church ordinance — none. I hold that in the earliest age, while the apostles were alive, they substantially conformed ; they bor- rowed and brought into service synagogical wor- ship and used that; the idea of another church had not come into their minds. You recollect that when Paul went to Jerusalem, after he had li;;i t ISJlliiSlii'lMS mm I 'mS 698 HENRY WARD BEECHER. been preaching for twenty years, James took him aside and said : " What is this we hear ? The brethren hear that you have abandoned Moses and that you do not believe in him. I will tell you what to do," says James the Venerable ; " there are going to be some men clear themselves of their views in the assembly to-day ; do you go up and clear yourself, that the brethren may know that these things that they have heard are not true." Paul had been preaching for twenty years chat Christ was the only hope and foundation, and that Moses was a mere shadow, and a fore- runner and preparation for Christ. He went into the temple ; but do you suppose he had a church catechism and all his foundation laid ? He would have lied if he had spoken in that way at that time. Paul did not see the outlines of the church ; they grew, they developed out of the nature of things. And so I say in regard to all church worship ; that is the best form of church economy that in the long-run helps men to be the best Christians. (Applause.) In regard to ordin- ance I stand very nearly where the Quakers do, except this : they think that because they are not divinely commanded they are not necessary; I think they are most useful. Common schools are notdivinely ordered, Sunday-schools are notdivine- ly ordered ; but would you dispense with them ? " ' Is there no law and reason, except that of the letter ? HENRY WARD BEECHER. 699 \'\m\ " ' Whatever thing is found to do good when ap- plied to human nature, that is God's ordinance. (Applause.) If there are any men that; worship God through the Roman Catholic Church, and there are, I say this in regard to them: " I cannot, but you can ; God bless you ! " In that great ven- erable church there is Gospel enough to save any man ; no man need perish for want of light and truth in that system ; and yet what an economy it is, what an organization, what burdens, and what lurking mischiefs, that temptation will bring out. I could never be a Roman Catholic, but I could be a Christian in a Roman Catholic church; I could serve God there. I believe in the Epis- copacy — for those that want it. (Laughter.) Let my tongue forget its cunning if ever I speak a word adverse to that church that brooded my mother, and now broods some of the nearest blood-kindred that I have on earth. It is a man's own fault if he do not find salvation in the teach- ings and worship of the great Episcopal body of the world. " * Well, I can find no charm in the Presbyte- rian Church, for I swore to the Confession of Faith; but at that time my beard had not grown. (Laugh- ter.) The rest of the Book of Worship has great wisdom in it, and rather than not have any brotherhood I would be a Presbyterian again, if they would not oblige me to swear to the Confes- sion of Faith. 36 li'i'ii m.m ill 600 HENRY WARD BEECHER. 1^ " * On the other hand, my birthright is in the Congregational Church. "*I was born in it; it exactly agreed with my temperament and with my ideas ; and it does yet ; for, although it is in many respects slow-molded; although in many respects it has not the fascination in its worship that belongs to the high ecclesiasti- cal organizations ; though it makes less for the eye and less for the ear, and more for the reason and the emotions ; though it has therefore slender advantages, it has this, that it does not take men because they are weak and crutch them up upon its worship, and then just leave them as weak after forty yearr. as they were when it found them. A part of its very idea is so to meet the weakness of men as that they shall grow stronger ; to preach the truth and then wait till they are able to seize the truth and live by it. It works slowly, but I tell you that when it has finished its work it makes men in the community ; and I speak both of the Congregationalists that are called Baptists and those that are call Congregationalists ; they are one and the same and ought to be hand in hand with each other in perfect sympathy. Under my platform in Brooklyn I have a baptistery, and if anybody's son or daughter, brought up in Baptist ideas, wants to be immersed, you wont catch me reasoning with them ; I baptize them. So it is that I immerse, I sprinkle, and I have in some instances poured, and I never saw there was any difference HENRY WARD BEECHER. 601 in the Christianity that was made. (Laughter.) They have all, for that matter, come out so that I should not know which was imn,ersed or which was sprinkled. I believe there ought to be more unity among Congregationalists of every kind. What then ? Would I merge our conscientious views of immersion ? No, 1 would not merge them. Why cannot you immerse and then let it alone? Why cannot you let us sprinkle and then let us alone ? " ' The unity of Christians does not depend upon similarity of ordinance and methods of worship. " ' It is a heart business. "'I do ot believe the millennium will see one sect, one denomination, any more than the per- fection of civilization will see one great phalans- tery, one family. The man on this side of the street keeps house in one way and the man over on the other side keeps house in another. They do not quarrel ; each lets the other alone. So I hold about churches. The unity of the church is to be the unity of the hearts of men — spiritual unity in the love of Christ and in the love of each other. Do not then meddle with the details of the way in which different persons choose to con- duct their service. Let them alone; behave at least as decently in the Church of Christ as you would do in your neighborhood and in each other's families. I do not know why they should not concurrently work in all the great causes of God among mankind. I am not, therefore, to if! m m 602 HENRY WARD BEECHER. teach Congregationallsrr. ; I am not to teach the Baptist doctrine ; I am not to teach Presbyterian- ism ; I am to teach, " O, ye that are lost by reason o^ your sins, Jesus Christ has found a ransom for you ; come, come, and ye shall live." That is my message, and in that I have enthu- siasm. It is not to build up one church, or an- other church, or to cry down one church or an- other. Brethren, we have been trying conscience for a great while ; what have we got by it ? About one hundred and fifty denominations. " * There is nothing so unmanageable as a con- ceited conscience. (Laughter.) " ' Now, suppose we should try another thing ; suppose we should love a little while , suppose we should try sympathy, trust, fellowship, brother- hood, without inquisitorial power; suppose we should let men's theologies take care of them- selves, and bring this test to bear upon them — What is the fruit of their personal living, and what is the fruit of their personal teaching? "By their fruits ye shall know them " did not exhaust itself in personal thought alone. It is a good test for denominationalism, and whenever I find a denomination that puts emphasis upon holiness, where there is no envy, nor detraction, nor back- biting, nor suspicion, nor holding each man '.o philosophical schedules ; when I find a denomina- tion in which they are full of love and gentleness and kindness, I am going to join that denomiua- HENRY WARD BEECHER. 603 tion. But I do not expect to change for some time. (Much laughter.) " • God forbid that I should set myself forth for that which I am not — the founder of a sect. I think anybody would find a good deal of trouble to get together enough of definite material that is consecutive and logical to make a sect out my sermons. That is not what I have been after ; it is not what I am going to try for to the end of my life. My work before me is just what my work has been hitherto, the preaching of such aspects and attributes of God as shall win men to love, and to trust, and to obedience. " * My life is for the most part spent. " * I am warned every year, not by any apparent decadence of health, but by counting ; I know that it cannot be for me to be active for many more years ; but so long as life remains and strength, so long as men want my ministration, I shall minister in the name of the Lord Jesus Christ to the wants and souls of my fellow-men. And as my years grow more I want to bear a testimony. I suppose I have had as many opportunities as any man here, or any living man, of what are called honors and influence and wealth. The doors have been opened, the golden doors, for years. I want to bear witness that the humblest labor which a minister of God can do for a soul for Christ's sake is grander and nobler than all learning, than all influence and power, than all i i 1 1 II i m ■Sili 'var^*"" 604 HENRY WARD BEECHER. riches. And knowing so much as I do of society, I have this declaration to make — that if I were called to live my life over again and I were to have a chance of the vocations which men seek, I would again choose, and with an impetus arising from the experience of this long life, the ministry of the Gospel of Jesus Christ, for honor, for clean- liness, for work that never ends, having the promise of the life that now is, as well as of that which is to come — I would choose the preaching of the Gospel ; to them that perish, foolishness ; to them that believe, and accept it, life everlast- ing.'" This is Henry Ward Beecher's autobiography. Can it be bettered ? XIII. GENERAL SURVEY. THE fall of 1886 found Plymouth's Pastor home again and hard at work. " It is much better for him to work," said one near and dear to him. "A man with the sturdy health he enjoys should be ashamed to spend a lazy day." That speech had its effect. Even then, though he knew it not, his brain was thinning, and he braced himself unconsciously to meet the multi- tudinous demands made upon his head, his heart, his body, his pocket. He had hardly reached the threshold of his door before he was besieged by reporters from every paper in the two cities, and by correspond- ents from every section of the land; and rather than disappoint them, although tired and weary beyond expression, he said they might assemble in his parlor and he would answer their questions. It was a very interesting occasion, but chiefly as an indication of the great man's willingness at all times to aid, and his disinclination at any time to disappoint. (006) lillhlli '"Ml! «ii 606 HENRY WARD i?EECHER. But the outcome was so meagre that the writer, knowing Mr. Beecher's habit and the necessity of rest, wrote him suggesting that after a few days' recuperation he might feel like gratifying the public by a talk about what his eyes and ears had caught when abroad, and concerning cognate matters. In response to this, Mr. Beecher sent the following line : '*My dear 7- -.• Your head is level. I will wait a couple of days, and go meanwhile to Peeks- kill, and after that will open my mouth. "As ever, "H. W. B." A few days after that, by appointment, the writer called and went with Mr. Beecher to his bedroom, where an interesting 'conversation oc- curred, which was subsequently pnnted. In view of what he says about the future of Plymouth Church it would seem as though great care, great caution should be observed in the selection of a successor. How significant are Mr. Beecher's words, how pregnant are his apprehensions for the future, and yet how childlike and simple in the non-disguising of that apprehension. It was not that he felt himself greater or more powerful than any other, but he knew the significant part Ply- mouth Church had taken under his lead, during the forty years of activity through which the nation •"'iiiliiili HENRY WARD BEECHER. 607 had passed, beleaguered on every side. He knew that Plymouth Church was built upon a rock so high, so commanding, so all-attracting that the faintest falling off, the slightest lowering of its tone, intellectual, moral, or even physical, would be certain to draw upon it hostile comment, ad- verse criticism. Of Plymouth Church he was not alone the Elder Brother, but the father. He was the shepherd and the bishop all in one, and as he looked unconsciously across the narrow line between him and the fatal March of the fol- lowing year, but a few weeks really in advance, it pained him to see anything that could take from Plymouth Church its righto "proud pre-eminence. Had Plymouth Church been burned to the ground that day, the happiest man in Brooklyn would have been Henry Ward Beecher, for he felt then, as he expressed himself on his seven- tieth anniversary, as though the time had come for a smaller building, and a new locality. In many ways Mr. Belcher was then a changed man, but the changes were those of growth, and upward at that. His horizon of observation was always extend- ing, and although by nature he looked with lenient eye upon many things and courses of action which to narrow-minded and pharasaical preachers ap- peared bad, if not absolutely wicked, as he grew to know the world better, to see more clearly the ilii 'i ¥\m iHllil wiw 1 lii>i'ii!lli iiEai;!Bi jiipil iiiii i!i 'ir mm 608 HENRY WARD BEECHER. wi mainspring of life, and to understand more thor- oughly that honest men could honestly differ; even his loyal nature expanded, and he regretted in later life many things he had believed when younger. , Take, for instance, what he said in his " Lectures to Young Men " concerning the stage and actors, in 1843, as given in an earlier chapter of this book, and contrast it with his feelings and his activity and his companionships of later years. In 1862, nearly twenty years after his lectures to young men were given, a great billiard match was played in Irving Hall, on Irving Place, in New York. The players were noted experts, and great excitement attended the match, in the sport- ing world, as well as in social circles where already a fondness for sport of various kinds had obtained a foothold. Although ignorant of the game, Mr. Beecher was not ignorant of men. He was a great student of his fellows, and one evening, while dining in the house of a parishioner, the subject of this billiard match having come up, it being suggested by a report in the evening papers, Mr. Beecher said he would like very much to see it, and, in company with a member of his host's family, then a reporter on the New York Times, Mr. Beecher went to Irving Hall. Al- though not so well known as in after years, his face was tolerably familiar, and when the party HENRY WARD BEECHER. 609 entered the enclosure and took seats at a table reserved for the press, some one in the audience, recognizing him, proposed " three cheers for Henry Ward Beecher." They were given with a will, and when the ruddy-faced parson smilingly bowed, acknowledg- ing the compliment, they were repeated, and a ripple of good nature ran through the entire as- semblage. Mr. Beecher remained perhaps an hour, and then as he rose to retire, conscious that he was expected to do something, he bowed with great good-natured dignity, receiving again a round of cheers interrupted rudely by one man only, the late Isaiah Rynders, who, without possi- ble intentional affront, asked him if he would take a drink. In 1887, when scores of metropolitan clergymen have billiard tables in their own homes, when ladies of unquestioned virtue, piety, and standing are deft manipulators of the rolling balls, this visit would attract but little attention ; but then, as Mr. Beecher subsequently said, when asked to go to a theatre to see a play, " it costs too much to get so little." The following morning every news- paper printed a report of the visit, and imme- diately his reverend brethren, the clerical edi- tors of *' religious " newspapers, made him their target. He was bombarded from end to end of this great country, while his mail was simply enormous. i ! i t 1 ! HI 1 1 'MM !i| 1 ''ill ■Mil ' iiiilils i 610 HENRY WARD BEECHER. •W Every day letters poured in upon him as leaves fall in the forest, and it was literally years before he got over the blow which that simple act brought on his devoted head. As is recorded, when his own novel " Norwood " was dramatized and brought out by Mr. Daly, Mr. Beecher would not go to see it, although he did avail himself of an opportunity to look at the burlesque later on. When the Theatre Comique stood on Broad- way opposite the New York Hotel, Edward Har- rigan produced a play called " Old Lavender," in which, with marvellous fidelity to nature, he played with touching effect the character of one who, by another's misdeed, with which he was falsely charged, gradually sunk to the lowest depth of poverty, of trouble, and almost of degradation. Mr. Beecher was always interested in the poor, and his most intimate friends little realized how truly he was like his great Master, in that he went about doing good that he never told of. Having read the story of " Old Lavender," Mr. Beecher expressed incidentally a wish that he could see it. The property on which Harrigan's theatre was built was part of the A. T. Stewart estate, and, like all the theatres owned by that estate or built on property owned by it, there was a box reserved especially for Mr. Stewart; or parties whom he sent. The courtesy of Mr. Stewart or HENRY WARD BEECHER. 611 his representative, placed ihis box at Mr. Beech- er's disposal, and in company with two newspaper friends, one from Boston and one from New York, he went one Friday afternoon to see " Old Lavender." He was affected to the very core of his great heart. The realism of the stage pictured with rare fidelity the condition of the poor, and, stirred, to his utmost limit by the presence of the great preacher, Mr. Harrigan played as he never played before. Martin Hanley, the manager, came to the box, after an act, in response to a suggestion of one of Mr. Beecher's party, and said that Mr. Harrigan would be honored by a meeting with his distinguished auditor. Mr. Beecher stepped to the back of the box, where Harrigan in his rags and tatters was waiting, and with cordial hand shaking the two artists congratulated each the other. It was a very pretty picture and could have been spoiled, as Mr. Beecher remarked, in one way only — that it should be hashed up on the following morning in cold type and fed to his ministerial editorial brethren as a text for lam- pooning. A few days prior to the departure of General Custer on his mission of extermination, Lawrence Barrett the tragedian, Stuart Robson the come- dian, and General Custer, said to the writer that they had long wished to hear Henry Ward :i"'l ' Tl iii'lil! m .■'Mm' 612 HENRY WARD BEECHER. Beecher preach. They were invited to come to Plym6uth Church the following Sunday morning. They did so, and after the service, on Mr. Beech- er's invitation, the party went to his house on Columbia Heights, where, in the well-remembered back room which affords an uninterrupted view of New York, East river and its imperial harbor, they sat and chatted. Mr. Beecher talked with General Custer about the war, about his projects for the future. He talked with Mr. Barrett exhaustively on subjects with which Mr. Barrett was particularly well informed, and with Mr. Robson upon his branch of stage exploit, and laughed heartily while he narrated his experience when, as a young man, he sought to unhorse the drama and to dis- perse the actors, telling them how anxious he had been to see Jefferson, Ristori, Cushman, and how, little by little, either he or the stage had changed, and he rather guessed on the whole it was he. It was a very interesting interview, and now that Custer lies among the slain, and the great preacher awaits burial in Greenwood's public vault, and Barrett and Robson continue, each his way, prosperous and popular, who can say that that meeting was not an occasion fraught with good to those who have gone, and does not re- main a happy memory to those who survive ! The late Frederick B. Conway, with his accom- plished wife, struggled hard and long in Brooklyn MENRY WARD BEECHER. 61. '^ to establish the Park Theatre, and subsequently the Brooklyn Theatre. Conway was an old-school English gentleman. He was a well educated man along many lines of thought and study, and when at a public meeting he and Mr. Beecher met for the first time, looking him square in the face, Mr. Beecher said, " Why, I know you ; you come to my church." "Why, certainly," replied Conway ; " I enjoy good acting wherever I find it. Why won't you come to my theatre ? " "Are you quite sure," rejoined Mr. Beecher, with a laugh that shook him from top to toe, " that I should find good acting there?" After which they had a pleasant talk for a few moments, and whenever thereafter they met, as they fre- quendy did, Mr. Beecher would always remind Mr. Conway that he had promised " sometime," when he had "good acting" in his theatre to let him know. Mr. Beecher was particularly fond of music. Long before he became educated to the Phil- harmonic standard he enjoyed organ music and good piano playing, and as far back as 1858 he wrote concerning a new organ that had been set up in the church, an article, which by the way is a good illustration of his lighter style. Said he: "The organ long expected, has arrived, been unpacked, set up, and gloried over. The great players of the region around about, or of distant celebrity, have had the grand organ exhi- bition ; and this magnificent instrument has been im m I 614 HENRY WARD BEECHER. put through all its paces In a manner which has surprised every one, and, if it had had a conscious existence, must have surprised the organ itself most of all. It has piped, fluted, trumpeted, brayed, thundered ; it ha lyed so loud that everybodj' was deafened, a.id so soft that nobody could hear. The pedals played for thunder, the flutes languished and coquetted, and the swell died away in delicious suffocation, like one singing a sweet song under the bed clothes. Now it leads down a stupendous waltz with full bass, sounding very much as if, in summer, a thunder-storm should play above our heads, * Come, haste to the wedding/ or ' Money Musk.' Then come marches, gallops and h "-npipes. An organ playing hornpipes ougb have elephants for dancers. "At length a fugue is to show the whole scope and power of the instrument. The theme, like a cautious rat, peeps out to see if the coast is clear; and after a few hesitations, comes forth and begins to frisk a little, and run up and down to see what it can find. It finds just what it did not want, a purring tenor lying in ambush and waiting for a spring, and as the theme comes incautiously near, the savage cat of a tenor pitches at it, misses its hold, and then takes after it with terrible earnest- ness. But the tenor has miscalculated the agility of the theme. All that it could do, with the most desperate effort, was to keep the theme from run- krhich has ;onscious an itself umpeted, oud that It nobody inder, the the swell le singing ►w it leads sounding der-storm haste to hen come \n organ phants for lole scope eme, like a st is clear; and begins o see what lot want, a liting for a ously near, , misses its )le earnest- [ the agility th the most Q from run- HENRY WARD BEECHER. 615 1 ning back into its hole again, and so they ran up and down, around and around, dodging, eluding, whipping in and out of every corner and nook, till the whole organ was aroused, and the bass began to take part, but unluckily slipped and rolled down-stairs, and lay at the bottom raving and growling in the most awful manner, and nothing could appease it. Sometimes the theme was caught by one part, and dandled for a mo- ment, when, with a snatch, another part took it and ran off exultant, until, unawares, the same trick was played on it, and finally, all the parts being gready exercised in mind, began to chase each other promiscuously in and out, up and down, now separating and now rushing in full tilt together, until everything in the organ loses pa- tience, and all the ' stops ' are drawn and, in spite of all that the brave organist could do — who flew about and bobbed up and down, feet, hands, head and all — the tune broke up into a real row, and every part was clubbing every other one, until, at length, patience being no longer a virtue, the organist with two or three terrific crashes put an end to the riot, and brought the great organ back to silence! " Then came congratulations. " The organist shook hands with the builder, and the builder shook hands with the organist, and both of them shook hands with the com- mittee, and the young men who thought it their 87 l:!i IP M II M HENRY WARD BEECHER. duty to know something about music looked wise, and the young ladies looked wise too, and the minister looked silly, and the parishioners gener- ally looked stupid, and all agreed that there never was such an organ — no, never. And the builder assured the committee that he had done a little more than the contract stipulated ; for he was very anxious to have a good organ in that church! And the wise men of the committee talked sig- nificantly of what a treasure they had got. The sexton gave a second look at the furnace, lest the church should take it into its head, now, of all times, to burn up ; and he gave the key an extra twist in the lock lest some thief should run off with the organ. - - "And now, who shall play the organ ? is the question. And in the end, who has not played it ? First, perhaps, a lady who teaches music is exalted to the responsibility. Her taste is culti- vated, her nerves are fine, her muscles feeble, her courage small and her fear great. She touches the great organ as if she were a trembling wor- shipper, fearing to arouse some terrible deity. All the meek stops are used, but none of the terrible ones, and the great instrument is made to walk in velvet slippers every Sabbath, and after each stanza the organ humbly repeats the last strain in the tune. The instrument is quite subdued. It is the modern exemplification of Ariadne riding, safely on a tamed leopard. But few women have HENRY WARD BEECHER. 617 Strength for the mechanical labor. It ought not to be so. Women ought to have better health, more muscle, more power, and, one of these days, doubtless, will have. " Next, an amateur player is procured, who was said to have exquisite taste and finished execution. A few pieces for the organ he knew by heart, a pretty way of varying a theme, a sentimental feeling, and reasonable correctness in accom- paniment. " Next came an organist, who believed that all this small playing, this petty sweetness, was a dis- grace to the powers of the instrument. He meant to lead forth the long pent-up force, and accord- ingly he took for his first theme, apparently, the Deluge, and the audience had it poured upon them in every conceivcible form — wind, rain, il jods, thunder, lightning with all the promiscuous stops which are put in all large organs to produce a screeching brilliancy full drawn, to signify uni- versal misery and to produce it. That man gave the church their full money's worth. He looded the house. The voices of the choir were like birds chirping in a thunder-storm. He had heard tiiat the singing of a congregation should be borne up upon the music of the organ and, as it were, lloated, and he seemed tv ' e aiming, for the most j)art, to provide a full Atlantic ocean for the slender c hoir to make its stormy voyages upon, " A fortunate Kjuarrel disposed of him, and the i' :!ii mP 618 HENRY WARD BEECHER. 'i organ went back to the tender performer. But before long a wonderful man was called, whose fame, as he related it, was excessive. He could do anything- — play anything. If one style did not suit, just give him a hint, and he would take on another. He could give you opera, ecclesiastical music, stately symphony of Beethoven, the bril- liant fripperies of Verdi, the solemn and "^''mple grandeur of Handel, or the last waltz, the most popular song (suitably converted for the purpose) — anything, in short. The church must surely be hard to please if he could not suit them. He opened his organ as a peddler opens his tin boxes and, displaying all its wares, says, ' Now, what do you want? Here is a little of almost everything.' "He took his turn. Then came a young man of a true and deep nature, to whom music was simply a symbol of something higher, a language which in itself is but Httle, but a glorious thing when laden with the sentiments and thoughts of a great heart. But he was not a Christian man, and the organ ,was not to Iiim a Christian instru- ment, but simply a great gothic instrument, to be studied, just as a Protestant would study a cathe- dral, in the mere spirit of architecture, and not at all in sympathy with its religious significance or uses. And before long he went abroad to perfect himself in his musical studies ; but not till a most ludicrous event befell him. On ji Christmas day HENRY WARD BEECHER. 619 a great performance was to be given. The churcli was full. All were musically expectant. And surely something was had a little more than was expected. For, when every stop was drawn, that the opening might be with a sublime choral effect, the down-pressing of his hands brought forth not only the full, expected chord, but also a cat, that by some strange chance had got into the organ. She went up over the top as if gunpowder had helped her. Down she plunged into the choir, took the track around the front bulwark of the gallery, until opposite the pulpit,, whence she dashed down one of the supporting columns, made for the broad aisle, where a little dog joined in the affray, and both went down towards the street-door at an astonishing pace. Our organist, who, on the first appearance of this element in his plans, snatched back his hands, had forgotten to relax his muscles, and was to be seen following the cat with his eyes, with his head turned, while his astonished hands stood straight out before him, rigid as marble ! " But in all these vicissitudes, and in all this long series of players, good playing has been the acci- dent, while the thing meant and attempted has been, in the main, a perversion of music, a break- ing of the Sabbath day, and a religious nuisance. The only alleviation in the case was, that the general ignorance of the proper function of church-music saved the Christian congregation 1 tM iii' ilili ! 620 HENRY WARD BEECHER. from feeling what an outrage they had suf- fered." Of lat^ years, Mr. Beecher seemed to feel that he and his idea as to love to God and love to man, and the duty he owed to it, ought to be well enough understood to permit him greater latitude than he allowed himself when he was younger and in the heat of battle. He went to see Jefferson, he in- tended to see Charlotte Cushman. When Henry Irving, with Miss Ellen Terry and their company, came here, having expressed a desire to hear Mr. Beecher preach, Major Pond took them to Plymouth Church and put them in the pastor's pew. After the service, while the great congre- gation instead of dispersing stood, as was their custom, to look at the pastor and any noted people who might be there to make his acquaint- ance or speak to him, Mr. Beecher came down from his platform and extended the right hand of fellowship to the English manager and his fair companion. After that, on invitation, they accom- panied him to his house, where they dined, and on a subsequent occasion a lunch was given to Miss Terry alone. Mr. Beecher became very much attached to Mr. Irving and Miss Terry, and went to see them play several times. When he went abroad, in 1886, he accepted their hospitality in the theatre, and subsequently went to Mr. Irving's house in Hammersmith, con- MENRY WARD BEfeCHER. 621 cerning which he wrote to a home friend a letter, which will be found elsewhere printed. Now, these facts are recorded for the purpose of showing that the emphasis with which Mr. Beecher inveighed against actors and the play- house in his immaturity found its counterpart in his acceptance of their beneficial service in later years when, by actual contact with them as friends, companions, hosts, guests, entertainers, he recog- nized the mistake of years gone by, On one plane of action, Mr. Beecher never swerved an iota. He was as vigorous in his denunciation of in' temperance in his old age as when he flailed that curse of the times in his famous course in Indian- apolis. As he grew older he found need for an occasional glass of claret, but it was noticed always at great dinners, as in private houses, that he ad- hered rigidly to the principles and the custom of his life. He was rigid also in respect to his life- long opposition to gambling of all sorts and kinds. One of the most powerful lectures he delivered in his series to young men, was on that subject, and he lost no proper opportunity to impress upon his hearers, old and young, the folly of an indulgence in the temptation to make haste to get rich, which was certain to turn into ashes in the mouth. He claimed also that he was ever tenacious of the principles which led to the formation of the Republican party, and which dominated that party III ; 622 HENRY WARD BEECH ER. from 1856 down to the corrupt period, which began about the date of Grant's election and continued with increasing virulence to the nomi- nation of Mr. Blaine on the one hand, and that of Mr. Cleveland by the Democratic party on the other. Mr. Cleveland had produced upon the mind of Mr. Beecher an impression of sturdy honesty. He did not regard him as great, but he believed him to be good. Mr. Blaine, on the other hand, he regarded as a brilliant but reckless politician, a man who loved his country well, but himself more, and he resolved, greatly to the annoyance, discomfiture, and ill-feeling of many of his warmest friends and a majority of his church supporters, to endorse Cleveland rather than the candidate of the Repub- lican party. So great was the confusion created, so widespread the chagrin and annoyance ex- pressed by his friends that it seemed to him almost as though the exciting period of 1867 had returned, when his famous Cleveland letter — and by the way, Cleveland seemed to be rather an unfortu- nate name for Mr. Beecher — caused such intense excitement. Having announced his intention to support Mr, Cleveland, Mr. Beecher's moral sen- sibilities received a rude shock in a story privately circulated for some time, and ultimately brought to the surface by the press, and later on endorsed as of personal knowledge by a clerical corre- HENRY WARD BEECHER. 623 spondent, to the effect of gross immorality in the private life of the Democratic candidate. This was to Mr. Beecher a terrible revelation. He could not support Mr. Blaine, and he would not support Mr. Cleveland. At his request General Horatio C. King insti- tuted inquiries. He went to Buffalo, he went to Albany, and became convinced that whatever might have occurred years ago, and in specific instances, so far as the then present was con- cerned the story was an absolute fabrication. This report was made by General King to Mr. Beecher, who then and there pledged himself to do all he could to secure popular favor for and the election of the candidate for the Democratic party. It cannot be said that Mr. Beecher ever went into presidential or other political campaigns for personal aggrandizement, for office, for political favor. On the contrary he travelled thousands of miles when he spoke for Fremont, and spoke without one dollar's compensation. He travelled thousands of miles when he spoke for Lincoln, and without one dollar's compensation. He worked and talked for Grant, and he worked and talked for Cleveland, and no man lives, no doc- ument exists, which can show that he ever re- ceived at any time or under any circumstances one dollar for such services, or any compensation of any sort or kind. 624 HENRY WARD BEECHER. It has been charged that Mr. Beechei obtained favor for his sons. This is utterly and absolutely untrue. During the war of the Rebellion one of his sons was in the army, and a friend suggested that it would be a graceful act on the part of the President, or the secretary of war, if that son should be offered a commission in the regular army. The commission was sent and subsequent brevets were given, but Mr. Beecher knew nothing of it before- hand, and therefore could have done nothing to secure the one or the others. Another of his sons was made collector of customs in Oregon, but so far as his father is concerned there never was a stroke of a pen, nor a word, nor a hint, nor a suggestion that could have induced the President to do aught for him. A further evidence of Mr. Beecher's catholicity and toleration of different beliefs is found in the fact that he respected the conscientious scruples, or whatever, of every man with whom he talked ; as for instance, although the rite of baptism in the Congregational Church is performed by sprinkling, if one desired immersion Mr. Beecher so performed it. Precisely when he first reached that point of recognition is a matter of some question. The first occasion of his performing baptism by immersion in Brooklyn was, it is be- lieved, in April, 1857. The occasion was memorable. HENRY WARD HEECHER. 6^5 There was no baptistery in Plymouth Church, so the congregation assembled in the Pierrepont Baptist Church on the evening of the 29th of April. The church was crowded and Mr. Beecher preached from Matthew x. 32, t^^: "Whosoever therefore sha!! confess me before men, him will I confess also before my Father which is in heaven. But whosoever shall deny me before men, him will I also deny before my Father which is in heav- en." Among other things Mr. Beecher said that, in his belief, baptism was but a ceremony meaning nothing of itself; that it was a manner of con- fessing Christ before men, and that the form of it was to be guided by the conscientious views of those upon whom it was to be administered, and that so feeling he performed but his duty in officiating on this occasion according to the usage of the Baptist Church. A report in the Sim of the following day says : " The ceremony was conducted with the greatest propriety and impressiveness. Mr. Beecher seemed as familiar with the duties required of liim as though he had never practised otherwise." ! I ill XIV. WHAT HE DID WITH HIS MONEY. SOME of the most caustic criticisms upon Mr. Beecher were born in a belief in his carelessness and recklessness as to money. He was careless in this respect, that he sought always to relieve distress, no matter what its cause. In o,her words, however foolish, wicked even, a man might have been, and however distinctly his present trouble, destitution, worry, might be due to his folly or his criminality, he became at once in the eye of Plymouth's pastor a brother in distress, and that was all it was necessary for Henry Ward Beecher to know of man, woman or child. Trouble was the flag that indicated the part of the field where his helpfulness was needed. Fortunately he made money easily. During the forty years of his Brooklyn pastor- ate, between 1847 ^^^ 1887, his income, as esti- mated and not contradicted by him, was in the vicinity of $1,500,000, the approximate items of which are as follows : Salary first ten years , . .$50,000 • Salary second ten years 100,000 (626) HENRY WARD BEECHER. 627 Salary third ten years $200,000 Salary fourth ten years 200,000 From Hoimcr for " Norwood " 25,000 For copyright of •' Norwood " SiOOO Lectures first ten years 30,000 Lectures second ten years 60,000 Lectures third len years 175.000 Lectures fourth ten years 200,000 For " Life of Christ," in advance 10,000 For wedding fees 50,000 For editorial and special writing 200,000 From sales and copyrights 50,000 To which may fairly be added miscellaneous income, at least 145,000 Grand Total $1,500,000 What did he do with it ? Well, really it would seem to be no one's business what he did with it, and yet, in view of the gossip that has been aiid is and will be con- cerning a man who, in any other line of occupation might easily have made |20,ooo,ooo, instead of $1,500,000, it may be well to gratify curiosity to a certain extent. In the first place it will be noticed that there would be an average income of $37,500 a year. This is largely in excess of his annual income the first twenty years, but is nowhere near what it was in the last twenty years. He supported a large and growing family ; he aided generously his relatives by birth and marriage ; he gave liberally during the war; he made constant con- tributions to deserving societies when collections were taken up in his church ; he loaned money as Kl!^ iliii 628 HENRY WARD BEECHER. cheerfully as he would give a glass of water ; he bought his house on Columbia Heights ; he bought a farm in Peekskill, and he erected and paid for a residence on that farm at a gross cost of jj^i 50,000, which it will require a fortune tu maintain. Beecher was fond of books. It was the habit of many lofty-minded and un- successful preachers to carp at him because he studied men rather than books. He did study men, but he was an omnivorous reader as well, and a free-handed purchaser, for years, of the best books, engravings and etchings procurable. In addition to what was in the Brooklyn resi- dence, Mr. Beecher had a houseful of books at Peekskill. When he sold his large house on Columbia Heights, where his volumes lined the walls of every floor from the basement to the up-stairs study, he had to divide his library thus, b^^tween his country and his city home, to find house-room for them. The moving disarranged them somewhat, so that only a general estimate of their number could be made, since the late accessions were not separated from the earlier collection. But in 1876 there were about five thousand volumes, and it is estimated that three or four thousand were added since then. He was always a large buyer of books, and kept on accumulating the current publications on such subjects as interested him. Iter; lie Us ; he ted and OSS cost 'tune to ind un- ause he d study as well, the best le. lyn resi- iooks at ouse on ined the t to the iry thus, to find rranged estimate the late : earlier 3ut five It three m. He kept on )n such MR. BEECHER'S HOME IN BROOKLYN. .•if HENRY WARD BEECHER. 631 Mr. Beecher's library has been spoken of as a " working library." It was more, but it was that, indeed. Of theology, new and old, he was a steady student, and there are few works regarded as essential to a clergyman's keeping up with the theological thought of the day absent from his collection. Books that interested him he was ac- customed to read and re-read, discuss with his friends and lend for their reading. One of the latest books he read and talked about was Pro- fessor Briggs' work on the Messiah. John Fiske's books interested him deeply, and "The Destiny of Man " was very generally passed around. He kept up with the times in the purchase of works on mental and moral philosophy, books on the border-land between theology and science, and neither quite the one nor wholly the other. Nat- ural history, medicine, and general scientific sub- jects were all well represented, so far as the generally well-informed reader requires them, the collection on natural history perhaps attaining more nearly to completeness than the others. The extent to which Mr. Beecher interested him- self in this department will appear from some of the rare and valuable volumes mentioned later on. In general literature, the collection is also a a fairly full one ; and here also Mr. Beecher's love of a well-made book is apparent, the best library editions, on large paper, being the form in vrhich 632 HENRY WARD BEECHER. the standard authors were represented on his shelves. The classics were not ignored, and a full set of Valpy's Delphin and Variorum Latin authors was among the treasures he loved to look at, however little he may have looked into them. A great marker of books was Mr. Beecher. Some of the volumes are annotated by his hand ; in most of them he inscribed his name, the date and place of purchase, and the price ; while now and then there will be found in a volume that he dreamed over as he read it — for in books, as in people, he found frequent suggestiye starting- points for a train of thought all his own — the notes of a sermon that he might at some time more fully develop, or of an address, the making of which lay just before him. In one tiny volume there is an interesting bibliographical pedigree. It is about four inches high and an inch and three- quarters wide. It is, Psalterion Prophetou kai Basileos tou David: Psalmorum Liber, printed in Greek, in Paris, in 1618. The name of D. Mc- Cartee is inscribed on the title page, and over the leaf is written, in faded ink : " When this transla- tion was made is uncertain; but it could not have been long after the Pentateuch itself." Below this, in Mr. Beecher's writing, is : " Reverend D. McCartee to Dr. J no. T. Parington ; to Reverend Jno. Todd ; to David Todd ; to H. W. Beecher. Dr Witherspoon was son-in-law of McC." In the purchase and roadinir of books, Mr, HENRY WARD BEECHER. 633 Beeoher followed the plan of supplementing his investigation of the subjects that were interesting him at the time, rather than that of building up a library. The thorough, exhaustive study of some special subject was a form of relaxation from his regular work, as well as a preparation for it, that was common with him. In this way he not only filled his mind with the knowledge which gave all his illustrations their realistic effect — their correct- ness delighting such of his auditors as knew enough to appreciate it — but he also acquired an expert knowledge of many topics out of the usual way. Whether it was etchings, or the manu- facture of soap, precious stones or photography, cosmetics, forestry, pottery, wine-making, phre- nology, or the fabrics of the loom, he went to the bottom of the subject. He filled his bins, loaded his tables and shelves, and adorned the backs, pockets and fingers of his family and friends with the " specimens " he bought so generously, and gathered into his library the complete literature of the subject in hand. His coming to live in Brooklyn opened to him for the first time the knowledge and the treasures of art which had been inaccessible to him in the then wilderness of the West. Without an art education he had inherited from his mother the artistic temperament and taste, and he speedily yielded to his natural inclination, and revelled in art books and pictures. Although these were as 38 '''^li 634 HENRY WARD BEECHER. yet the days of comparatively small things with him financially, he nevertheless, in the decade and a half between 1850 and 1865, added to his library what is by far the most valuable part pecuniarily. Some of the more important works in this de- partment are the following : Boydell's " Plates to Shakespeare," two fine large folios, London, 1796; David Roberts' " Holy Land, Egypt and Nubia," in four folio volumes, a copy of which sold at the Stewart sale for 5^90 a volume ; a beautiful copy of " Don Quixote," illustrated after Smirke ; Cooke's " Pompeii," in tv/o folio volumes, London, 1827; Captain William Baillie's "Engravings after the Old Masters," 107 rare prints ; an im- perial folio containing impressions of " Hogarth's Works," from the original plates restored by James Heath, R. A. ; Holbein's " Court of Henry VIII.," and Mrs. Jameson's " Beauties of the Court of Charles II.," with proof portraits on India paper, large paper copy, uncut ; " Collaert's Works," 84 etchings and engravings, bound in one volume; Dugdale's " Monasticon Anglicanum," eight vol- umes, London, 1846; Stothard's "Monumental Effigies of Great Britain," a London folio of 181 7, with colored illustrations ; Denon's " Egypt ; " Finden's " Illustrations of the Life and Works of Byron," 1833; Jerdan's "National Portrait Gal- lery," in five volumes, original edition, Dawson Turner's copy, with autograph, and an autographic note from Mr. Jerdan inserted ; a fine impression 9 HENRY WARD BEECIIER. 635 of the original 1833 edition of Knight's "Gallery of Portraits;" Ingram's "Memorial of Oxford;" Henry Boswell's "Antiquities of England and Wales," bought by Mr. Beecher at the Wesson sale in 1853; a very rare large paper copy of Fors'.er's " British Gallery of Engravings," Lon- don, 1807; a large paper copy, uncut, of the lirst edition (1821) of Lodge's "Portraits;" Lavater's " Essays on Physiognomy," five volumes, Lon- don, 1 8 10, a fine large copy, with original and brilliant impressioi.s ; the three series complete of Nash's "Mansions of England in the Olden Time," with handsomely colored plates ; a copy of the London (1747) edition of Spence's " Poly- metis," with plates by Bortard and others, in which Mr, Beecher has written, "Brunet says of this edition, Edition Recherchee de cet ouvrage estimi ; il vaut de 4 guinSes en Angleterre; " a probably unique collection of etchings and engravings by Cornelius and Philip Galle, six hundred in num- ber, mounted and bound in two volumes ; Nayler's "Portraits of Illustrious Personages;" Owen Jones' "Grammar of Ornament;" Cuitts "Wan- derings and Pencillings Amongst Ruins of the Olden Time;" "Oudine P3ngravings of Thor- waldsen's Sculptures," Rome, 1832; "Works of Reynolds and Wilkie," engraved ; a handsomely illuminated "Book of Common Prayer," pub- lished by Murray, 1845; "^sop's Fables," with copper-plate illustrations, London, 1793. i|> 1 636 HENRY WARD BEECHER. J- In connection with the art pubHcatlons in the library, mention should be made of the loose etchings and engravings, of which Mr. Beecher accumulated a large number. When the fit was on him he bought freely, far and wide, and al- though he now and then in recent years added a few fine examples to his collection, most of theni were purchased in the earlier period of his art study. He became a good judge of the compara- tive merits of " impressions," and among the hundreds of prints in his cases were many artists' proofs, impressions on India, Japan, or China paper, and copies from limited editions, all well selected in respect of both artists and the sub- jects. There are original Rembrandts, Diirers, Van Dycks, Houdins, Lucas von Leydens, Van Merck- ens, Van Ostades, Aldegrevers, Kobells and etch- ings by most of the older hands, many of them represented in various " states," including a very large collection of examples by Wille. There are also engravings of Bartolozzi, Toschi, Berthoni and Longhi ; very fine impressions of Longhi's Mar- riage of Catharine and Berthoni's Magdalen being among them. Waltner, Charles Turner, Vitcher, Henry Farrer, Mongin, Lauderer, Ap- plan, Flameng, Bellows, Spiegle, Hail,- Hamilton, Walker, Parrish, Macbeth and others are repre- sented among the prints in this collection. There is a proof before lettering of Waltner's HENRY WARD BEECHER. 637 engraving of Rembrandt; Rembrandt's portrait of himself, marked by Mr. Beecher, *• finest of all ; " artists' presentation copies from limited editions of Ritchie's enfrravinof of Huntineton's Lady Washington's Reception ; Chprch's Heart of the Andes ; Littlefield's Lincoln ; Marshall's various portraits and a great number of exam- ples which have a special value for one reason or another. It remains to mention Mr. Beecher's paintings, his collection of which, though small, was very good. Perhaps the most valuable examples in it were a remarkably fine Diaz, and a gorgeous flower-piece by Robie. There were also paint- ings by Inness, DeHaas, C. Julz, Emil Carlsen, W. Hamilton Gibson, Cornelia W. Conant, J. L. Brown, S. M. Barstow, J. L. Delouse and others ; water-colors by Henry Farrer, Allonge, A. Von Beest, Pauline Girardin and others, and a fine crayon by Eastman Johnson, with several good specimens of Inness. It has been said that Mr. Beecher was fond of precious stones, and a collector of them.^ To a certain extent that was so, but not suffi- ciently so to account for any noticeable expendi- ture. He delighted in good horses, and drove the best he could procure. Although extremely modest in his attire, his clothing was always of the finest material. He was particularly nice and tenacious about the quality of his clothes. Many ji't' i:M iV, 638 HENRY WARD BEECHER. an hour did he spend with his old friend Knox, discussing silk, felt, beaver, human nature and theology ; and a German shoemaker named Zeipfel was to him an illustration of patience, of devotion, of sincere Christian manhood under most embarrassing circumstances. In the great book-marts Beecher was always a welcome guest, not only because he was a pur- chaser who never haggled about prices, but be- cause he manifested such an interest in every feature of the book-making process. He could write himself, but publishers alone could publish, and to them he went for information as to the type, the stereotype, the engravings, wood and steel, the manufacture or the purchase of paper, the printing process, the output of advertisements, the outfit of agents and moneys received, gross and net. And as it was with book-makers and book-sellers, so it was with hat-sellers and shoe- makers ; so it was in the stable, in the foundry, in the ship-yard, on the farm, along the river- front, wherever men worked and toiled and thought and grumbled, he went to study, to read and to form for himself weapons with which to fight in the interest of a common humanity. The last year of his life had come. His face was as unwrinkled as it had been twenty years before. His body, though stout, was in apparent sturdily. His mind was more active than ever, and vaster enterprises than had HENRY WARD BEECH ER. 639 ever before enlisted his attention were blocked out in the near and more remote future. He worked himself to death. The necessity for more money, the constant encouragement of his friends, the never-failing demands of the public, combined with his natural pride in industry, and suggestions, made by those who ought to have known better, that it was no time for a man in his superb condition to dally and toy with hours of ease, forced him to the front with every energy alert, and every faculty of his mental, moral and physical nature wound to its utmost tension. Besides his normal employment as preacher in Plymouth Church he prospected two planes of endeavor. One was to complete his "Life of Jesus the Christ," and the other to begin and proceed as far as possible with an autobiography. He was paid a check of $5,000 by a firm in New York as an inducement to re-begin work on his "Life of Christ," to which he devoted several hours each day. It was to him a work of love, and although his effort in that direction had been summarily stopped and clouded years before to such an extent as to seriously embarrass the firm which first undertook to publish it (a firm com- posed of friends who stuck to him closer than the traditional brother; a firm the members of which individually and collectively have in their posses- sion scores and scores of letters couched in the I ii. 640 HENRY WARD BEECHER. most affectionate, the most loving, the most trust- ful terms), he thought the time had come when he could, in a proper frame of mind, go on and finish the work he had begun. Indeed, he had made such progress in it as to warrant an arrangement with the gentleman who had been of significant assistance to him in the preparatioii of his first volume to renew his services on the second volume. But it was not to be, and in an unfinished state the •* Life of Christ " remains, concerning which the Rev. Dr. Hall said, in his address at the fu- neral services : " The hand that rests so still yon- der laid aside the pen over a page of the unfin- ished * Life of Christ.* Possibly the last flash of thought, as the conviction grew upon him of the probable end of life, was that his work was to be left unfinished, that he had not told men all that he would have them know of that precious reve- lation." Continuing, with this as the text from which he drew the lesson that the " Life of Christ" can never end, he said: " The departed saints of God have already put out on its immeasurable spaces, and learned that the life of Christ is never finished. If the Christ indeed now feeds the oil to the golden lamps of special churches, and lives on as truly God with us as ever He was, our brother comprehends that his last symbol of earthly work was properly the unfinished volume of his ' Life of Christ.' " SffiSSST^ HENRY WARD BEECH ER. 641 A very comprehensive suggestion; for it has been intimated that to the hands of others — and no matter who those others may be, is it not evident they must be utterly incompetent to conclude a work that Henry Ward Beecher began ? — has been entrusted the completion of Beecher's " Life of Christ;" an unholy, an impious ideal Of his other work, the "Autobiography," noth- ing was attempted. He was in no sense a methodical man with papers, yet he doubdess had very many letters of interest, very many communications of various sorts and kinds from men and women bearing upon the times and the conflicts in which he par- ticipated, and he might, after having finished the '* Life of Christ," in some happy hour have gone to work, and with competent and intelligent as- sistance gathered together this rich material, from which, out of the fulness of his heart, the marvellous tenacity of his memory, he might have given the world an autobiography of unsurpassa- ble interest. But it was not to be. Ultimately, it is to be hoped, having gathered from all sources, from temporary sketches, from the many biographies, from the lives that will be written, from friends in whose possession scores, and in some instances hundreds, of letterr remain, a competent biographer will present: the name of this great, this foremost American citizen, in its I ! ill m 642 HENRY WARD BEECHER. proper frame, and will embalm the memory of his services in a calm recital of fact ; for no exaggera- tion is necessary, no fulsomeness need be used. He was as plain, as simple, as truthful as truth itself, and all tha-t need be done is to photograph him as he stood and report him as he spoke, to record him as he lived. XV. "I HAVE NEVER PREACHED FOR FAME." MR. BEECHER died on Tuesday, the 8th of March, 1887, at half-past nine o'clock in the morning. A week prior to that he, for the first time to those who were immediately about him, gave evi- dence of weariness, and interrupting his work, which was of a confining nature, went to his farm in Peekskill, from which he returned on Wednes- day apparently somewhat refreshed. It was no secret to his physician, however, that for three years he had been affected with incipient Bright's disease in a mild form, and for some time there had been certain indices of wearing away, which had attracted the attention of his friends, who had advised him, when he went abroad, to rest, rather than to work. Some years earlier he had curious fancies. For instance, waking at night, he would feel as though there were two of him. To one came sweet voices from the skies; the other reasoning, remonstrat- ino-. Fancies, hallucinations, dreams were off re- ^ (643) tl m 644 HENRY 'WARD BEECHER. quent occurrence. In other words, he was wear- i:\g away, gradually but surely. Returning from his Peekskill trip, Mr. Beecher slept well, and the following day, Thursday, went to New York, where he transacted some busi- ness, returned, took, as was his custom, a short nap before tea, made a call in the evening and went to bed at a little after nine o'clock. His wife occupied an adjoining room, and be- fore retiring, some fifteen or twenty minutes after Mr. Beecher had gone up-stairs, to her surprise she found him fast asleep. At one o'clock on the morning of Friday Mrs. Beecher looked at him again, and he was still fast asleep, apparently resting quietly. Between four and five o'clock on Friday morning Mr. Beecher was seized with a violent fit of vomiting, so violent, indeed, as to attract the attention of his wife. Going to him, she asked what the matter was. He said he had a sick headache, and almost im- mediately went to sleep again. In diat condition he continued the greater part of the day, and it was not until four o'clock in the afternoon, he having slept steadily since a little after nine the preceding night, that the doctor v ^.s sent for. On entering the room, the physician took his patient by the shoulder, awaking him, but he fell asleep at once, the doctor being given the impressron that he was sufferinor with a severe billious attack. He returned at seven o'clock, and with difficulty as wear- Beecher ay, went ne busi- a short Ing and and be- tes after surprise k on the at him 3arently o'clock ^ed with :d, as to ter was. lost im- Kidition , and it oon, he ine the •r. On patient asleep ressfon attack, ifficuliy [I I i I HENRY WARD BEECHER. 647 ill aroused Mr, Beecher, saying, "Raise your hand ; can you raise your hand ? " "I can raise it high enough to hit you/' responded the dying man ; but he failed utterly when he attempted to put out his tongue and, closing his eyes, went to sleep. He slept all night unchanged, he made no sign all day Saturday, he slept all Sunday and Monday, and died without further recognition, as noted above. This was as he wished it. This was the sudden death he always hoped for. Volumes would be needed to give any adequate report of the universality of regret, of the world- enveloping sorrow, of the monumental tributes raised by the peoples of Christendom to the memory of the services of Henry Ward Beecher. Every journal in the land, every journal in every land, paid eloquent homage at his bier. Clergymen of all denominations joined hands, doing processional honor to their departed friend and comrade. On the day of the funeral services held in Plymouth Church the streets of Brooklyn were alive with people hurrying to its portals. Scores of thousands of people passed through 'he church, which was mc.^ elaborately and tastefully adorned with flowers, while the solemn tones of the organ rolled through its vast spaces, that they might 648 HENRY WARD BEECHER. take a farewell look at the calm features of the man they loved. Services were held in churches of five differing denominations in the city of Brook- lyn, and from these churches went thousands una- ble to find a foothold. The nation was in grief A many-sided man ; and no better illustration can be afforded of his humor, of his sympathy, of his modesty, of his self-abnegation, of his lifelong devotion to the single doctrine, " Love to God and love to man," than appears in a letter written by him in San Francisco in September, 1883, on his arrival at the Golden Gate after a passage by sea, from Portland, Oregon, in which he says : *'My dear : I arrived here on Monday, the 3d, per steamer California, after an odious pas- sage of two hundred years, and when I stepped ashore I was a wreck, a fiend without conscience, hope, or remorse, without moral sensibility, affec- tion, or any trait of human nature. Indeed, I was a reversed Darwinian, driven back through the wolf to the bear, from the bear to the frog, and from the frog to the ooze insect, the animalcule, the molecule, the atom. But I am now on my way up again and have some hope of emerging into a human condition." Later on, referring lo Munger's book, he writes: "It was rather cu- rious that your agreeable letter about Munger should have come within a day of one from of the lurches Brook- s una- tration Lthy, of ifelong o God written I8s, on age by ys: lay, the IS pas- tepped cience, , affec- I, I was gh the •g, and alcule, 3n my erging ing lO er cu- [unger I i i ■ ry- HENRY WARD BEECHER. 661 on the same subject, and another from , so that you and were reading and writing about the samt time about the same book. It is not a book that I can read, and yet it is very use- ful, not simply because it has much in it that is subtle and suggestive, but chiefly because it wraps a new theology with religious sentiment. People are slow to follow thought pure and simple, but if it carries with it deep religious feeHng they the more willingly accept it for devotion, spirituality, is everywhere and always considered safe. It will therefore lodge in the hearts of multitudes a pre- paratory expectancy which will welcome a better- defined theology by and by. I have been but the voice in the wilderness, crying, ' Prepare ye the way of the Lord,' and I say of some coming name, what John said of his Master, ' He must increase, but I must decrease.' In that respect I can hon- estly say that I have never preached for fame, nor have I been ambitious of rank, and I am now and have always been willing to sink my personality in the growing work of the Gospel of Love. I am as oiie holding a candle in the morning twilight; the sun will soon drink up its tiny blaze." A fitting c mmentary on th-^ life of this great, good, and useful man.