I I- ; •/ c LIBRARY OF THE THEOLOGICAL SEMINARY PRINCETON, N. J. PRESENTED BY MRS. ALEXANDER PROUDFIT BX 7260 .B3 A6 Abbott, Lyman, 1835- •1922. Henry Ward Beecher: a sketc of his career with Digitized by tine Internet Arciiive in 2009 witii funding from Princeton Tlieological Seniinary Library littp://www.arcliive.org/details/lienrywardbeecliOOabbo ^"^■^/WL 3t>#' ^% HENRY WARD BEECHER: A SKETCH OF HIS CAREER: WITH ANALYSES OF HIS POWER AS A PREACHER, LECTURER, ORATOR AND JOURNALIST, AND INCIDENTS AND REMINISCENCES OF HIS LIFE. BY LYMAN ABBOTT, D.D., ASSISTED BY KEY. S. B. HALLIDAY. CHARACTERIZATIONS AND PERSONAL REMINISCENCES, CONTRIBUTED BY THIRTY-NINE EMINENT WRITERS. MR. BEECHER' S LIFE AS SKETCHED BY HIMSELF SHORTLY BEFORE HIS BE A TH. 1887. HARTFORD, CONN.: AMERICAN PUBLISHING COMPANY. Enterea, accordinf!; to Act of Congress, in tlie years 1883 and 188T, By FUNK & WAGNALLS, In the Oiflce of the Librarian of Congress at Washington, D. C. PREFACE. The almost universal expressions of esteem, love, and affection which the death of Mr, Beecher has called forth from every part of the country, every class in society, and every religious denomination, indicate how wide and deep a hold he had upon the American people. It cannot be questioned that no other man has exerted so wide and profound an influence on the pro- gress of thought — moral, political and religious— in this country for the past fifty years, as has Mr. Beecher. It may indeed be claimed that other re- formers have done more to change the political constitution from a pseudo-democracy governed by a slavocracy to a genuine democracy governed by its free indr strial classes ; that other teachers have done more to promote that political enthu- siasm out of which parties are born and by which they must be inspired — or die ; that other theo- logical thinkers have exerted a more permanent influ- ence on the religious thought of the jDulpit, the press, and the age ; but it will hardly be claimed that any one man has done so much" as he in each one of these three departments. The contemporary of Garrison and PhiUips, Chase and Seward, Park and Hodge, they have wrought each only in his own field, while Mr. Beecher has jDloaghed and sowed and lived to see yi PREFACE. harvesting in every field. The life of such a man is the life of his epoch. The story of a successful gen- eral is the story of his successful campaigns. It is not such a story I have here attempted to write. The story of Mr. Beecher s life is indeed sketched in outline, but it is only in outline. This volume may be justly called a Portrait ; it is not a record of the achieve- ments, it is a personal introduction to the man. It is nearly thirty years since I first became acquainted with Mr. Beecher : he then in the full power of his prime, I a boy just out of college. During those thirty years our acquaintance has grown continuously more intimate. That intimacy has only served to in- crease my respect and deepen my affection. My close association with him during five years of editorial co- labor was unmarred by a single collision, and has left behind not the memory of a single jar. The more I have known him the more I have seen to admire, to honor, to love. I never met him without receiving from his presence and his words some inspiration — in- tellectual, or spiritual, or both. My object in this book — which has far outgrown the proportions of its original design — has been to bring Mr. Beecher into more intimate relations with the thousands who have known him only as a voice in the air ; to give to the many something of that personal acquaintance which has been only the peculiar privilege of the few ; and especially to afford the young men of the country a better understanding of his character than has been or could be afforded by the always partial and often distorted views afforded by the current publications of him in the daily press. PREFACE. VU For it is the compensating disadvantage of genius to be never compreliended by its contemporaries ; and Mr. Beecher is peculiarly liable to misinterpretation. His opalescent nature, his kaleidoscopic moods, his profound intellectual and spiritual insight, his impa- tience of the mere mechanics and formularies of relig- ion, which are of larger imi^ortance than he realizes, because the weak need props which the strong do not need, his intensely emotional nature, and his utter disregard of his own reputation, make him often an enigma to his friends, and always an easy subject for the misrei^resentations of envy, malice, and uncharita- bleness. That this volume will clear away all misun- derstandings I do not imagine ; still less that it will even mitigate misrepresentations. But I trust it may serve a useful purpose in making known the man to those who have loiown only the orator and the author. It remains to give in a few sentences the history of the origin and j)reparation of this book, which is only in a qualified sense my work, though for its spirit and accuracy I am responsible. Some years ago the Rev. S. B. Halliday, the Pastoral Helper of Plymouth Church, began to col- lect material respecting Mr. Beecher. The paj)ers in Part II. were all obtained by him. These papers, with much other material, he brought to me some year and a half ago, and requested my aid in arrang- ing, revising, and editing them. In looking over them I found abundant material for a book of the purjDose and scope outlined above, and so, with some misgivings on account of other engagements, but with hearty interest on account of personal attachment to viii PREFACE. Mr. Beeclier, the work was undertaken. The incep- tion of this book is Mr, Halliday's ; and his has been the large labor, little appreciated by the public but readily appreciated by all literary workers, involved in the voluminous correspondence which was necessary to collect the material. In the arrangement, revision, collation, correction, and general editorial work I have been assisted by Mr. S. A. Chapin, Jr., without whose co-operation it would have been impossible for me to cOmj^lete the work. He also has largely done the work of seeing it through the i^ress. The gentle- men whose pax)ers constitute Part II. and the many friends who have sent incidents will jDlease to accept this general acknowledgment of their kindness in lieu of more direct and formal acknowledgments. L. A. INDEX. PART I. HENRY WARD BEECHER. Page I. Childhood and Youth 13 II. Early Ministry 39 III, Mr. Beecher as a Preacher 69 IV. Methods of Study 75 V. Mr. Beecher's Theology 91 VI. Mr. Beecher as a Journalist 118 VII. Mr. Beecher as a Lecturer and Orator 134 VIII. Mr. Beecher in England during the Civil War. . . . 161 IX. Personal Traits and Incidents 186 X. Reminiscences by Rev. S. B. Halliday : Mr. Beecher in Brooklyn 230 Centennial Year 226 Magnanimity 228 What would you have me to do ? 233 The Dying Calif ornian 234 Last Prayer-Meeting of the Year 238 Border Ruffian 242 A Sensible Woman 243 Women Speaking in Meeting 244 The Methodist Sister 245 Applicants for Help 246 Universal Adaptation 251 The Woman who Lost her Baby 257 XI. Plymouth Church 261 X INDEX. PART II. ANALYSES OF HIS POWER, AND REMINISCENCES BY CONTEMPORARIES. [Written Specially for this Work.] Pagb I. By Rev. Thomas Armitage, D.D 285 II. By Rev. Joseph Parker, D.D., England 297 III. By Rev. Charles E. Robinson, D.D 303 IV. By Hon. Amos C. Barstow 308 V. By Rev. Henry Highland Garnett, D.D 314 VI. By Rev. Samuel H. Virgin, D.D 318 VII. By Rev. Edward P. Ingersoll, D.D 321 VIII. By Rev. J. O. Peck, D.D 325 IX. By Peter MacLeod, Scotland 334 X. By Rev. Charles Hall Everest, D.D 340 XI. By Rev. W. Burnet Wright 344 XII. By Rev. E. P. Putnam, D.D 349 XIII. By Rev. A. H. Bradford 352 XIV. By Rev. Albert H. Heath 355 XV. By Rev. Leonard Bacon, D.D., LL.D 360 XVI. By Hon. Frederick Douglass 363 XVIL By Rev. Francis N. Zabriskie, D.D 363 XVIIL By Rev. C. K Sims, D.D.-. 364 XIX. By J. L. Cunningham, Scotland 367 XX. By Rev. Frank Russell 369 XXI. By Rev. Father Keegan, Vicar-General 385 XXII. By Jesse Seligman 385 XXm. By Rev. T. J. Conant. D.D 387 XXIV. By Rev. Prof. G. B. Willcox, D.D 388 XXV. By Rabbi Lilienthal, D.D 390 XXVI. By Rev. George Douglass, LL.D., Canada...,, 393 XXVII. By Gen. Clinton B. Fisk 394 INDEX. xi Page XXVIII. By John G. Whittier 395 XXIX. By Rev. Eugene Bersier, D.D., France 396 Extract from Sermon by Rev. David Swing, D.D 396 Article by Rev. Atticub G. Haygood, D.D 400 [From Magazines and other Articles.] I. . By Oliver Wendell Holmes, in Atlantic Monthly 404 II. By Rev. H. R. Havteis, in Contemporary Review 411 III. By Rev. William M. Taylor, D.D., va. Scottish Review . . 414 IV. By Prof. Noah Porter, D.D., in Hearth and Home 428 V. By Rev. Edward Eggleston, in Hearth and Home 434 VI. By Rev. Prof. James M. Hoppin, in the New Englander. 438 VII. By Rev. A. McElroy Wylie, in Scribner's Monthly 447 VIII. By Rev. R. S. Storrs, D.D., Silver Wedding Address.. 457 PART III. CHARA CTERISTW UTTERANCES. Theological.— St .tement of Belief 479 Spiritual. — How to Become a Christian ^ 508 Political. — Speech in London 523 Mr. Beecher's Farewell Address 646 Descriptive.— The Alps 661 Philosophical. — Evolution and Revolution 566 Agricultural . — Political Economy of the Apple 574 Our Creed 585 Humorous. — Modern Conveniences and First-Class Houses 587 CLOSING YEARS. CHAPTER I. Last Visit to Europe — Seventieth Birthday, etc 597 xil INDEX. CHAPTER II. FAGE / His Life as Sketched by Himself — Last Discourse 604 CHAPTER III Last Hours — Death— Funeral Services 628 CHAPTER IV. Universal Tribute of Respect to his Memory 646 APPENDIX. Scope ov Mk. Beecher's Preaching 663 Posters Placarded in Liverpool, etc 665 Plymouth Church Statistics 668 ILLUSTRATIONS. Pagh HENRY WARD BEECHER Frontispiece THE HOUSE AT LITCHFIELD, CONN., IN WHICH HENRY WARD BEECHER WAS BORN 17 SCHOOL-HOUSE IN WHITINSVILLE, MASS, IN WHICH MR. BEECHER TAUGHT IN 1831 AND 1833 51 CHURCH IN INDIANAPOLIS IN WHICH MR. BEECHER PREACHED 51 A FAMILY OF CLERGYMEN 85 MR. BEECHER AT DIFFERENT AGES 119 THE CHURCH IN LAWRENCEBURG IN WHICH MR. BEECHER FIRST PREACHED 153 MR BEECHER'S RESIDENCES IN INDIANAPOLIS 187 His Four-room House. The Residence he Built, painting it himself. PLYMOUTH CHURCH 221 PLYMOUTH CHURCH AUDIENCE 255 HENRY WARD BEECHER 290 PLYMOUTH CHURCH SUNDAY-SCHOOL 333 ACROSS THE ROCKY MOUNTAINS 357 "EYES AND EARS." 357 MR. BEECHER'S FAMILY 891 NEW RESIDENCE ON THE PEEKSKILL FARM 425 MR. BEECHER'S WORKSHOP 459 VIEWS AT PEEKSKILL FARM 509 A MAN OF MANY MOODS 559 MR. BEECHER LYING IN STATE IN PLYMOUTH CHURCH 643 Part I. HENRY WARD BEECHER. HENRY WARD BEECHER CHAPTER I. BIOGRAPHICAL. I. Maisty of the cliaracteristics of a life are inherited. Hence to know the intermingling of different bloods, the union of varying characteristics, the assimilation of inherited family traits in one organization, is as necessary in a study of a man' s character as to know something of the thread and shuttle and the weaving in the estimation of a rich fabric. The tone of the home atmosphere, the lights and shadows of early life, the quality of the parental gov- ernment are all influences of such permanent effect on the after life, that familiarity with them in the contem- plation of a character is indispensable. Pre-eminently is this true when the early training produces such last- ing impressions as in the present instance, necessitating more than the simple statement that Henry Ward Beecher was born in Litchfield, Connecticut, June 24th, 1813, the eighth child of Lyman and Roxana Foote Beecher. The convergence of two long lines of sturdy 14 HENRY WARD BEECHER. !N'ew England ancestry is represented by the union of these names, dating back on either side to the settle- ment of New Haven in 1638, when a widow, Hannah Beecher, and Andrew Ward, came over from England vdth Davenport, Lyman Beecher and Roxana Foote, the descendants of these two pioneers, were married September 19th, 1799, and moved to East Hampton, L. I., and subsequently to Litchfield, Connecticut, where, as already stated, Henry Ward was born. His father at this time was ministering to a congregation at a salary of eight hundred dollars a year, out of which a family, soon increased to ten children, must be main- tained and educated. The importance which is attached to the training of children now, the rich provision for their care, education, and enjoyment, is a deviation from old methods of whicU the parents of iifty years ago could have had no conception. The child-world of Henry Ward was barren of all the beauty which graces that of modern youth. Mrs. Stowe says, in writing of the training of children at this period, " The commu- nity did not recognize them. There was no child' s litera- ture ; there were no children's books. The Sunday- school was yet an experiment, in a fluctuating, uncer- tain state of trial. There were no children's days of presents or fetes, no Christmas or New Year's festivals. The annual thanksgiving was only associated with one day's unlimited range of pies of every sort — too much for one day and too soon things of the past. The child- "iiood of Henry Ward was unmarked by the possession of a single child's toy as a gift from any older person, or a single fete. Very early, too, strict duties devolved upon him ; a daily portion of the work of the estab- BOYHOOD. 15 lishment, tlie care of the domestic animals, the cutting and piling of wood, or tasks in the garden, strengthened his muscles and gave vigor and tone to his nerves. From his father and mother he inherited a perfectly solid, healthy organization of brain, muscle, and nerves ; and the uncaressing, let-alone system under which he was brought up, gave him early habits of vigor and^ reliance." Even this cheerless and somewhat hard experience had its advantage, and the entire freedom of the boy's life and thoughts led him into congenial fields of inquiry that methodical training might have left unsearched. The lack of the ordinary equipments of childhood, the playthings, the story books, and holidays, led him to find amusement where he could, and thus brought him into frequent contact with Nature and her children, and from these sources he drew truer lessons than might perhaps be found in the whole range of child' s literature. Of this period he himself says : " I think I was about as well brought up as most children, because I was let alone. My father was so busy, and my mother had so many other children to look after, that, except here and there, I hardly came under the parental hand at all. I was brought up in a New England village, and I kn bw where the sweet-flag was, where the hickory trees were, where the chestnut trees were, where the sassafras trees were, wheie the squirrels were, where all those things were that boys enterprise after ; therefore, I had a world of things to do ; and so I did not come much in contact with family government." In a city, such unrestricted freedom of action would have been impossible without impairing integrity and 16 HENRY WARD BEECHER. purity of cliaracter, but the moral atmospliere of Litch- field, was as untainted and invigorating as the air of its surrounding mountains, and was fraught with no contaminating influences. He was meiTy, bright, and affectionate as a child, and it is interesting to read from the family letters of this period bits of domestic history that give strong impres- sions of the child's character. A letter from his mother, written after a journey, says : "I arrived at sunset, and found all well, and the boy (Henry Ward) in merry trim, glad at heart to be safe on terra firma after all his jolts and tossings." In another, this pleasant picture of home life is given: "I write sit- ting upon my feet, with my paper on the seat of a chair, while Henry is hanging round my neck and climbing on my back, and Harriet is begging me to please make her a baby." Miss Catherine Beecher, in writing of the children to an aunt, says : "Henry is a very good boy, and we think him a remarkably in- teresting child, and he grows dearer to us every day. He is very affectionate and seems to love his father with all his heart. His constant prattle is a great amusement to us all. He t)ften speaks of his sister Harriet, and wishes spring to come, so that she might come home and go to school with him." Mrs. Beecher, the second wife, soon after arriving in Litchfield, in 1817, writes home of the family : "It seems the highest happiness of the children (the larger ones especially) to have a reading circle. They have all, I think, fine capacities, and good taste for learning. Edward probably will be a great scholar. Catherine is a fine-looking girl, and in her mind I find DR. LYMAN BEECHER. 19 all that I expected. Mary will make a fine woman, I think ; will be rather handsome, than otherwise. The four youngest are very pretty. George comes next to Mary. Harriet and Henry come next, and they are always hand-in-hand. They are as lovely children as I ever saw, amiable, affectionate, and very bright." Two years later she writes again : " George and Har- riet go to school to Mr. Brace and Miss Pierce ; Henry and Charles to Miss Osborne at the new school-house. Charles learns quite fast, and will overtake Henry, who has no great love for his books." Dr. Beecher was actively engaged at this time in pastoral duties, and in religious work extending over a wide range of influence, while the high literary and intellectual character of Litchfield society, and pre- eminently of Dr. Beecher's intimate friends, opened up attractive and congenial fields of discussion and in- vestigation, which with the prosperous and happy con- dition of the home-circle, rendered these years the most joyous and least shadowed with care, of all his life. His lack of method and system was great, and this conduced to a, freedom and sociality of life which knew no rules, and within certain prescribed moral limits, allowed the children to do about as they chose. Simple purity in daUy life, parental conversation, and example were the guides by which the children were imbued with the moral qualities of conscience, of self- respect, and of truth. Of his father Mr. Beecher says in one of his sermons : "I never saw my father do a thing that had du- plicity in it in my life. I recollect that, when a child, I mistook his appearance when talking with persons 20 HENRY WARD BEECHER. that came to see Mm as inconsistent with his after state of feeling when they had gone away. I did not under- stand simple prudence ; and it looked as though father was one thing before their face and another thing be- hind their back. It distressed me exceedingly. Ex- cept in that one instance, a cloud or a shadow never passed over my mind with regard to my father's in- tegrity. 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 sub- jects." Henry Ward's own mother died when he was but three years old. She was gentle, loving, and tender, with M'idest range of sympathy, and of a restful, pla- cid temperament, the peace and serenity of which re- mained undisturbed through all earthly trials. Her death deprived her husband of his strongest counsellor and support, and he is said to have declared that his first sensation was a sort of terror, like that of a child suddenly thrust out alone in the dark. Mrs. Stowe writes of her recollections of this time : "Then came the funeral. Henry was too little to go. I remember his golden curls and little black frock, as he frolicked like a kitten in the sun, in ignorant joy.' ' And again : "They told us at one time, that she had been laid in the ground, at another that she had gone to heaven ; whereupon Henry putting the two things together, resolved to dig through the ground and go to heaven to find her; for, being discovered under sister Cath- arine's-window one morning, digging with great zeal and earnestness, she called to him to know what he THE FIRST MOTHER. 21 was doing, and, lifting his curly head with great sim- plicity, he answered, 'Why, I'm going to heaven to find ma.' " The trust and imagination of childhood have grown with years into the man's strong devotion to her memory, and at times reveal themselves in such pas- sages in his sermons as the following : "And, on the other hand, who can measure the wealth of blessing that there is in father and mother to children ? Do you know why so often I speak what must seem to some of you rhapsody of woman ? It is because I had a mother ; and if I were to live a thou- sand years I could not express what seems to me to be the least that I owe to the fact that I had a mother. Three years old was I, when, singing, she left me, and sung on to heaven, where she sings evermore. I have only such a remembrance of her as you have of the clouds of ten years ago — faint, evanescent ; and yet caught by imagination, and fed by that which I have heard of her, and by what my father's thought and feeling of her were, it has come to be so much to me that no devout Catholic ever saw so much in the Virgin Mary as I have seen in my mother, who has been a presence to me ever since I can remember. And I can never say enough for woman for my mother's sake, for my sisters' sake, for the sake of them that have gathered in the days of my infancy around about me, in return for what they have interpreted to me of the beauty of holiness, of the fulness of love, and of the heavenliness of those elements from which we are to • interpret heaven itself. No child of Christian parents can ever measure the weight of the gratitude which he 22 HENRY WARD BEECHER. owes to the father and the mother that not only took care of him, but taught him what he meant when he said, 'Our Father who art in heaven.' How power- ful should be this reflex-influence, then, of the truth symbolized, hidden, in this opening petition of the Lord's j)rayer." Or again : ' ' Oh, that it could have been so in days past ! My 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 mother. No picture that hangs on prince' s wall, or in gallery, 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." At the end of a year. Dr. Beecher brought home a second wife to assume the duties of the household and the care of the children. She had been as a girl a brilliant belle of society, the possessor of great per- sonal beauty, a cultivated and intellectual mind, polished manners, and rich in all social acquirements. With her religious awakening and conversion came in- creased moral culture and force, which, from her natural propensity to rectitude and propriety, and from her unyielding conscience and undeviating pur- pose to do right herself, and have others do right also, assumed the character of a religion, solemn, inflexible, rigorous, and sombre. The freedom with which the children had been familiar had not instilled in them those graces and refinements which were to her natural THE SECOND MOTHER. 23 and habitual, while the shortcomings and imperfec- tions which arose naturally from a crude and vigorous childhood were to her sins of serious magnitude. It was a matter of consequence with her to point out and pray with them over their faults, and the religious influence thus brought to bear upon them was one that concealed the sincerity of her motive, and caused her to appear in the children's eyes like her religion — dread, calm, and exacting. No words so well as Mr. Beecher's own describe the effect on him of his mother's religious life : "My dear mother — not she that gcive me birth, but she that brought me up ; she that did the oflice-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 jDrofound veneration, rather than of a warm and loving nature. Therefore, her prayer was invariably a prayer of deep, yearning reverence. I re- member well the impression which it made on me. There was a mystic influence about it. A sort of sym- pathetic hold it had upon 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 impressed 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 24 HENRY WARD BEECHER. 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 wrong. I only thought, ' How that man does en- joy it ! What enjoyment there must be in such prayer as his ! ' I gained from that man more of an idea of the desirableness 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 ten- dency ; and yet, this poor man, more than he, led me to see that there should be real overflowing gladness 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 pau- per 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." Under the training of such a nature the boy grew up^ at once inspired and repressed. Religious aspirations were aroused, but from lack of proper care, remained in a vague state or else disappeared. Mr. Beecher relates his personal experience at this time as follows : ' ' My mother — she who, in the providence of God,, took me in to her heart 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 THE FAMILY GOVERNMENT. 25 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 her, and tell her my feelings, when fear has caused me 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." The family government was firm and decided and was administered wholly by the father, the mother's gentle nature not fitting her to enforce laws. The ne- cessity of discipline was not frequent, and consisted in impressing upon the children' s minds the need of will- ing, cheerful and quick obedience. In instances requir- ing special emphasis, the lesson was conveyed by a se- vere discipline, always feared and never forgotten, so that a mere word was ever after that effectual in secur- ing prompt obedience, uncomplaining and unquestion- ing. The warmest love and tenderest sympathy, how- ever, accompanied this firm and resolute discipline, and Mr. Beecher gives an amusing account of his own ex- perience in this field : " My father used to make me believe that the end of the rod that he held in his hand, was a 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 great deal better. So I could have stood it better, and not been benefited. For a child is not whipped till 26 HENRY WARD BEECHER. 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 talk- ing to me again, I thought it was too bad. And yet it was the right way." Dr. Beecher would come from his study and books to his children, with whom he would frolic and play queer pranks to the delight of both, on one occasion swinging his little daughter Catherine out of the garret window by the hands to test her courage, and again playfully tipping her head into a wash-tub as she was running by, to see what she would do. Occasions for discii)lining Henry Ward were rare, and according to statements of his own in recollection of youthful depravity he was not always the respon- sible person. "I think, however, 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 home, because we had A NEW ENGLAND CHURCH. 27 that 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 the plummet could make them. And, sitting there, I was expected to listen to the sermon, 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 recol- lect 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 extending over me, all my sensations, all my little thoughts, all the little ranges of imagination through which my mind passed ; and judging from them, from my own chil- dren, 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 indicate obliquity or depravity at all in the worse sense of the term, but simply and merely inexi^erience. 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 grace, gave me permission, with many and multiplied 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 becom- ingly. But, as I sat there, a martyr of propriety, on a 38 HENRY WARD BEECHER. hard seat, one of the roguish boys of the neighbor- hood 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 con- vey that idea, when I said, ' Oh, mother, it was done in fun.' I did not know what the meaning of fun 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. ' ' Another instance was the occasion of his first ' ' swear, ' ' when his own terror at the deed was sufficient atone- ment. "I remember being very mad once, when I was 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 of horror upon me. It was the first time I had ever done it. I was brought up to look upon profanity with utter abhor- rence, 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 kitchen quicker than I had ever done it before. The sweat stood out on me in great drops. I felt the shock all over." THE VILLAGE SCHOOL. 29 His earliest scliool days were not such as to forecast' a brilliant future, for he was deficient in memory, pain- fully sensitive, very diffident, and embarrassed by a thick, indistinct utterance ; resulting partly from bash- fulness, and partly from throat troubles. He began his education at a little school kept by a widow Kilbourn, where the idleness which generally prevailed was emphasized by the recital of the alphabet twice daily. From here he went to the district school, the dispensary of learning for the country children of the neighborhood, where the school-mistress wielded the switch and ferule, alternat- ing the use of these instruments with instruction in arithmetic and writing, ' ' readings from the Bible and the Columbian Orator." In one of Mr. Beecher's ser- mons occurs a passage recalling the school-house of his youth, which is of interest not only as a picture, but also as a strong figure in illustrating a beautiful thought. It is this : "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 M^ere, compared with my boyhood impression of them ! I looked over the meadows across which my little tod- dling feet had passed. They had once seemed to me to 30 HENRY WARD BEECHER. be broad fields, but now but narrow ribbons, lying between the house and the water. I marveled 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 awestruck I was at his presence ! So looking and wistfully remembering, I said to myself, 'Well, one bubble has broken.' But when you shall stand above, and look back with celes- tial 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. " At the age of ten years a more earnest course of study was inaugurated by his removal to the private school of the Rev. Mr. Langdon, in the town of Beth- lehem, near by. A year was passed in this place, where the unrestrained freedom of the kind, indulgent household in which he lived, allowed him long sessions of intercourse with woods and fields, through which he roamed at will, gratifying that love for nature which was a strong characteristic. Little advancement was made in his studies by such a derogatory course, his writing was bad, his spelling worse, and the smooth- ness of his Latin recitation showed unmistakable " cribbing," the result of necessity, and an unwise ex- pedient. He was recalled home, and soon after placed under the care of his sister, who was then at the head of a young lady's school in Hartford, where Henry was the only boy among forty girls. The history of this period shows a minimum of scholarly acquirement and a maximum of careless fun. LIFE IN BOSTON. 31 and practical joking, altliongli the impression pre- vailed that only the spur of necessity was needed to arouse a dormant ability, the existence of which no one doubted. He returned to Litchfield, and soon after, at the age of twelve, the whole atmosphere of his life was changed by the removal of the family to Boston. v-'' From the untrammeled freedom of his country life where the woods and fields were his play-grounds, the birds and forest-creatures his mates, to be suddenly com- pressed and limited to brick walls and narrow streets excited a depressing influence on his mind that increased the melancholy to which he had been prone from childhood. This was also augmented by his being en- tered at the Boston Latin School, where, repulsive and uncongenial as was the course of study, urged on by mingled feelings of honor, affection, fear of disgrace^ appeals to his conscience, paternal entreaties, and a sense of obedience almost religious, he finally accom- plished the work assigned. The Latin Grammar had been won, but at dear cost, for with it had come gloom, restlessness, irritability, and dissatisfaction with his present condition, that grew with secret strength, fos- tered by the reading of biographies and adventurous lives of Nelson and Captain Cook, vdth which his father strove to divert his thoughts, and by the temp- tation to similar experiences of which the docks and ship-yards were full. It finally assumed the form of a determination to seek a life of freedom and adventure, the sincerity of which was evident from his energetic preparations for a voyage, and from the testimony of his later years, for in one of his sermons he says : "I recollect three or four instances in which it seems to 32 HENRY WARD BEECHER. me tliat if certain occurrences liad not taken place just as they did I should have been overthrown. If I had not been taken out of Boston at one time, as I was, I do not see what would have prevented me from going to destruction." Through the subterfuge of a letter, purposely placed for his father's inspection, Henry made known his in- tention. Dr. Beecher received it with apparent appro- bation, and shrewdly suggested that the boy first take a course in mathematics and navigation preparatory to his departure. The youth gladly acceded to the prop- osition, and was soon established at Mount Pleasant J School in Amherst, Mass., where he was placed under the special care of a genial, manly young teacher, be- tween whom and the boy a firm friendship was com- pacted. Under the instruction of this Mr. Fitzgerald, he made good x^rogress in mathematics, and the diffi- culties in his voice, its indistinctness and thickness, were removed in a great measure by a course of elocu- tion under Prof, J. E. Lovell. The change in temperament and disposition wrought by this return to country life and the renewal of old and loved associations was great and immediate, and was a suitable preparation for the reception of those religious truths which came to him at the end of the first year during a season of revival. He united with his father's church in Boston, whereupon his dreams of naval ambition were merged into aspirations for the ministry, with a view to which two years of happiness followed at Mount Pleasant in preparation for col- lege. His preparation was thorough and warranted his entering the Sophomore year, an opportunity which COLLEGE LIFE. 33 his father thought best to yield, for he entered the Freshman year, occupying the leisure time which his advanced standing allowed, in becoming familiar with the library and in preparing courses of reading and self-culture for independent study. An extract from a letter of recollections which Dr. Thomas P. Field, of Amherst College, and a classmate of Mr. Beecher's, kindly provides us, gives, in condensed form, the general outline and coloring of his college course, which Mrs. Stowe in her "Men of Our Times" elaborates into a detailed and highly finished picture. "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 expectation of their fame. We knew very well that Beecher was a man of superior mental powers, but I cannot say that we antici- pated 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. On the first meeting I attended Beecher was present, and made an exhorta- tion on the duty of laboring for a revival of religion in the Fall term. There had been, I tliink, a revival in 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 student, was always able and eloquent. **I 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 rec- itative scholar. He always argued against the study of mathematics, maintaining that it afforded no good discipline for the mind, and 8 34 HENRY WARD BEECHER. 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 hi* 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 fort- night. We came together one hour every week, to hear the essaya 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 awakening much interest among orthodox scholars. Beecher instituted a comparison between Pollok and Milton, maintaining substantially, if I recollect right, that PoUok 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 afterward in one of our college periodicals. " I remember that Beecher was greatly interested while in college in Phrenology, and I think that he gave lectures with Orson Fowler, one of our classmates (and who has since become distinguished as a phrenologist), in some of the country towns in the neighborhood. Mr. Beecher, I have the impression, did the lecturing and Fowler made the examination 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 had since, a decided vein of humor, and love of fun. And you would often see on the chapel steps 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 they would have been wanted for a biographer in the future. * ' Truly yours, "Thos. p. Field." RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE. 35 Tlie study of Phrenology, which Dr. Field mentions, was begun in the form of a practical joke upon a fel- low-student who avowed himself a convert to the belief and was to give lectures on the subject in Mr. Beech- er's room. The interest of Beecher, Fowler, and others was aroused, and they were led by it into such an earnest course of phrenological and physiological research of metaphysics and mental philosophy, that a society was formed for phrenological interests, a simi- lar one was organized at Bowdoin, through Charles Beecher, and Henry Ward delivered lectures on the subject before village audiences. From the first he took a firm stand as a Christian young man, partici- pating in class prayer-meetings and sharing in religious labors among the neighboring country towns. His religious nature was very deep and it was pro- foundly moved by a revival in college during the Sophomore year, which led to a self -arraignment and an examination of the hopes and enlightenments which had induced him to join the Church, that left" him in miserable anxiety and despair. His own ac- count of the subsequent revelation of the divine nature through Christ is better than any description that could be given. "I was a child of teaching and prayer ; I was reared in the household of faith ; 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 be- 36 HENRY WART) BFErHER. fore God, me brightest thino- whicli I shall look back •^fD' 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 fullness 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-doing 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 troubled 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 jeal- ousy, 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 nature to lift men out of weakness to strength, out of impurity to goodness, out of every- thing low and debasing to superiority, I felt that I had found a God. I shall never forget the feelino;s 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 singing 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. CHRIST A FRIEND. 37 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 the 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 experienced it. I do not mean that a man can- not be a good man till then ; but he has not got to Je- rusalem 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 naeasures itself down deep, and says, ' I am all selfish, and proud and weak, and easy to be tempted to wrong. I have a glim- mering sense of the right, and to-day I promise God that I 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 head to the sole of my feet, I am full of wounds and bruises and putrefying sores' — it is only when the soul measures itself thus, and when it sees rising up against this conviction of its own unworthiness, the Divine declaration, ' I have loved thee ; I am thy God ; I have called thee by My name ; thou art Mine, and I will be thy salvation' — it is only then that a 38 HENRY WARD BEECHER. piian has passed through death to life, from darkness to light, from sorrow to joy." Upon graduating in 1834 he rejoined his father, who liad two years previous removed to Cincinnati. CHAPTER n. BIOGRAPHICAL, II. Mr. Beecher's first steps and studies in preaching may be considered to have really commenced during ) his college course. His strict attention at meetings of / prayer and exhortation, both in college and in the neighborhood, combined with the intimacy of an upper classman, a zealous Christian worker, who exerted a strong influence on young Beecher, finally drew upon him the care of a meeting held regularly in a school- house near the village, and with unvarying earnestness he devoted himself to this charge, the beginning of his Christian Ministry. One st^p had already been taken therefore, to which another was added when, upon his return to Cincinnati, after graduating, he entered upon the study of Theol- ogy at Lane Seminary. Here, after a short time, a strong attachment arose between himself and Prof. C. E. Stowe, a man of large attainments in ecclesias- tical and biblical knowledge, who, Mrs. Harriet Beecher Stowe relates, inspired his young friend "with the idea of surveying the books of the Bible as divinely inspired compositions, yet truly and warmly human, and to be rendered and interpreted by the same rules of reason and common sense which pertain to all human docu- ments." 40 HENRY WARD BEECHER. Dr. Lyman Beecher was at this time holding a principal professorship at Lane Seminary, and, as the head and exponent of the New England new-school theology and the doctrine of man's free agency, was equipped for and launched in a strong controversy with Dr. Wilson, the advocate of the old-school theology of "Scotch-Irish Presbyterian Calvinistic fatalism," and the doctrine of native depravity and unworthiness. The battle was a fierce one, with strong adherents on either side, the students of the Seminary, and notably his own sons, upholding and assisting Dr. Beecher ; so that naturally their studies were from the standpoint of dialectic and theological attack and defence. Altliough an earnest partisan of his father, Henry Ward had already formed a broader plan of belief for himself, differing in many respects from that of Dr. Beecher. Although maintaining the same view of the ministry, its aim and processes, with his father, Dr. Beecher' s methods and his unwavering confidence in them were, in the case of his son, so qualified by new lines of study and thought, that employment of them would have been not only inconsistent but inefficient. The salvation of humanity by Divine agency, through the salvation of individuals, was to him the great end to be obtained, but the means to this end was a problem, the complexity of which ren- dered him, as he neared the close of his theological course, the victim of deep depression and doubt. This state of mind was enhanced by the retraction of a brother who had lately become an unbeliever, and withdrawn from the ministry, and the impulse to adopt some other course in life was often strong within him. FIRST SETTLEMENT. 41 Several months of successful service as editor of the Cincinnati Journal, during which a pro-slavery riot gave opportunity for the ardent expression of his views of slavery and freedom, increased the tendency toward another profession, which, however, was for all time dispelled by a fortunate episode. He had assumed, during his final term at the Seminary, charge of a Bible class, and in the succeeding preparation and instruction there came in time a gradual clearing of all doubt as to his calling and its methods, followed by an increasing and definite apprehension of his mission, and of the manner of obtaining efficacious results. Mrs. Stowe says: "To present Jesus Christ, per- sonally, as the Friend and Helper of humanity, Christ as God impersonate, eternally and by a necessity of His- nature helpful and remedial and restorative ; the Friend of each individual soul, and thus the Friend of all society ; this was the one thing which his soul rested on as a worthy object in entering the ministry." With the eager enthusiasm and conviction consequent upon this spiritual revelation, he accepted at once the first opportunity that was presented after leaving the Seminary. This proved to be a call to Lawrenceburg, a small settlement near Cincinnati, on the Ohio River ; his experiences here he has himself related in his ser- mons in the following extracts : "Where I first settled in the ministry the ground was low, and subject to overflow sometimes from the great Miami, sometimes 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 snov/ 42 HENRY WARD BEECHER. melted on the mountains — tlie Ohio came booming down and overflowed ; and men were obliged to emi- grate. They found themselves driven out of their houses. Their cellars were submerged, and frequently the lower stories of their dwellings would fill with water. And they betook themselves to the table-land a little back, in boats." " I go back now to my own ministry. I have got to begin to talk about myself as an old man, before long. I 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 pas- tor of a. church. It was twenty years ago. I remember 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. I took care of every- J;hing connected with the building. And do I not remember every one of those faces ? I think there were but two persons among them that did not earn their daily living by actual work ; and these were not wealthy — they were only in moderate circumstances. We were all poor together. And to the day of my death, I never shall forget one of those faces or hear one of those names spoken without having excited in my mind the warmest remembrances. Some of CALL TO INDIANAPOLIS. 48 them I venerate, and the memory of some has been precious as well as fruitful of good to me down to this hour." After a short period of this ministerial apprentice- ship, he received and accepted a call to Indianapolis, where with his wife, whom he had married before leav- ing Cincinnati, he lived a simple, wholesome life of in- tense activity, where chief recreations were an indul- gence in agricultural study and pastime, a natural out- growth of the free country life of his boyhood, and that revealed itself now in an enthusiasm for choice breeds of domestic animals and an eager interest in farm and garden culture. Here he began the study of his fellow-men, the searching after the principles of humanity, the analysis of human nature' sworldngs and processes, which, coup- led with the insight into methods and principles of sermon-writing gained by his close study of the Apos- tles' discourses, formed a style of preaching which was magnetic and popular. The reputation thus gained w^as not, however, the realization of his highest aim. This was " the saving of souls" ; to do which, a Divine power seemed confirmed in him that evinced itself in the remarkable revivals of religion which arose in Terre Haute, under his influence, and in his own pastorate in Indianapolis. Of this time and this charge he makes feeling reference in one of his sermons. " I pass to my second parish ; and how many beloved faces rise up before me there ! for at that period, after having preached about four years, I began to know how to preach a little, and how to gather souls into the 44 HENRY WARD BEECHER. kingdom. I began to know what a revival was, and how to conduct one. I remember scores and scores of persons that were then so small that I could put my hand on their head, and that now have large families, who, from the day they were baptized to this hour, have been to a great extent under my care or influence. ' ' Well, I love those persons as I love my children, al- most. I have no time to think about them ; but that is nothing. Pearls and diamonds do not waste because the owner locks them up. They always retain their brilliancy ; and if he keeps them locked for a hundred years, and then takes them out, they will flash as brightly in the light as ever. And my memory of these persons will never grow dim. My heart goes out to them ; and I guess they think of me. I think they requite all the love I bestow upon them. When dying, many and many of them have sent me messages. Many and many of them, as they parted from this shore, bore testimony that the sweetest hours of their life were those passed under my instructions, and sent back messages of encouragement to me. How many times I think of five or six rare, beautiful, sainted ones, who sent me messages from the other side — I think they were half way across at any rate — that my preaching of Christ was true ; that they had gone so far that they felt it to be true ! I felt as though they were messages from heaven itself. And shall I have under my own roof spirits that are more sacred to me than these ? " It was at the end of the eighth year of this faithful and happy ministry that Mr. Beecher received and accepted the call to his present pastorate, Plymouth Congrega- tional Church of Brooklyn, N. Y. He entered upon ORIGIN OF PLYMOUTH CHURCH. 45 his pastoral duties here on Sunday morning, October 10th, 1847, a charge which, in its history, and in the remarkable career of its pastor, in various public functions as orator, lecturer, political advocate, and minister, is too well known to require more than a brief review. The church to which Mr. Beecher had been called owed its origin to two facts. In 1846 there were but thirty-nine churches in Brooklyn, a city then of nearly sixty thousand inhabitants, and of these churches but one was Congregational. The need of more societies of this denomination was obvious, and was met by prompt action on the part of several prominent Chris- tian gentlemen. The First Presbyterian Church, then on the point of removal to the new edifice in Henry Street, were occupying the present site of Plymouth Church, which property they offered for sale for $25,- 000. These gentlemen after consultation made the purchase for $20,000, then called a meeting for the purpose of forming a new Congregational church, at which they offered the property thus secured for the use of the new organization. In a resolution then passed it was decided to commence regular services on Sunday, May 16th, the first Sabbath after the house should be vacated. Eeports of the popularity and renown of Mr. Beecher of Indianapolis had already aroused Eastern interest in the man and his preaching, and through the influence of his friend and advocate Mr. William P. Cutter, of New York, Mr. Beecher, who was then in that city, was asked to preside at the opening of the new Congregational church in Brooklyn, May 16th, 46 HENRY WARD BEECHER. 1847. Mr. Beech er's discourses produced a strong im- pression upon his audience, and at a subsequent meet- ing in June, 1847, at which the name of Plymouth Church was adopted, he was elected unanimously by the society to the pastorate, and an immediate invita- tion was given him to assume the position. Mr. Beecher had become strongly attached to his congregation in Indianapolis, and regarded with affec- tionate care their interests and welfare. Apart from this interest in the congregation as an object for which he had labored with love throughout a pastorate of eight years, the private intimacies and domestic asso- ciations which had grown with his life there plead strongly with him not to leave his home in the West, where the frankness, heartiness, and simplicity of the people, the hospitality, generosity, and artlessness of their customs and modes of life, found sympathetic response in his freedom-loving nature. Two months passed before Mr. Beecher, influenced chiefly by the ill-health of his family, signified by let- ter his acceptance of the invitation ; he preached his first sermon on Sunday morning, October 10th, 1847. On this occasion he declared his standpoint and views on questions of national debate, his position with re- gard to slavery, war, temperance, and other reforms, and defined the purposes of his preaching, of which the chief was, "that it should be a ministry of Christ." The public services of installation as pastor did not take place until a month later, November 11th, 1847. Under the preaching of its new pastor, the Plymouth Church grew in numbers and influence, and received large accessions almost yearly, as the fruit of frequent THE PLYMOUTH PASTORATE. 47 revivals, of which, the most noted are those of 1852 and 1858, in the first instance ninety-one persons having united with the church, and in the second, three hundred and thii"ty-five persons being brought to make profession of their faith. Mr. Beecher's labors at this post have been zealous and unremitting, and through- out a pastorate of thirty-four years there have been but four occasions when his congregation have missed him from his pulpit for a protracted length of time. These absences, all of them involuntary, are given in Plymouth Church Manual. "In March, 1849, the pastor was taken with a severe illness, which confined him to the house for two months, and disabled him from preaching until September, nor did he recover his full strength until the winter. In June, 1850, the society, of its own accord, gave him leave of absence to visit Europe, and he did not return until September. In 1856, the society, at the request of a number of eminent clergymen and others, voted him leave of ab- sence to traverse the country in behalf of the cause of liberty, then felt to be in peril. "In June, 1863, the society requested him to revisit Europe for his health, which he did, returning in November. With these exceptions, the pastor has labored steadily at his post since 1847, at all times other than the regular summer vacation, which lasts on the average six weeks." The truest record of this ministry are the words of Mr. Beecher himself, who, in sermons of later years, makes frequent reference to the early days of its his- tory, and reviews different periods of his connection with his people and his church. 48 HENRY WARD BEECHER. "You know I have been here twelve years. It makes me feel gray to think of it ! When I came here the people in the houses in this street were not here. I am almost a patriarch of this part of Brooklyn ! With the exception of brother Storrs, of our own de- nomination, Dr. Cutter, and the Rev. Mr. Lewis, there is not a pastor in Brooklyn, that I recollect, who is in the church that he was in then. All, besides these, have removed, or gone to the other world, in twelve years' time. And what a populous period these twelve years have been ! How Time lias had to run ! What business he has had on his hands ! What developments of God's grace have taken j)lace, wliich, if they were to be unfolded and written, would fill so many books that the world could hardly contain them ; because every individual case would fill a volume ! And what a work has been accomplished in our own midst ! It is literally true that thousands have been converted and added to this church, of such as should be saved. The very number has prevented me from having any specialty of acquaintance v/ith them ; and yet it only needed that there should be such cases as one and another that have come under my immediate notice, to produce in me such an affection for this church that I never feel so near heaven as when I am in these meetings." " I am, in the providence of God, so circumstanced in •/ reference to public speaking, which seems to be my specialty, that I put my whole strength into that, and give up everything else to it. Paul said that he could not administer ordinances, and that still less could he serve tables, because his call was to preach ; and it CHRISTIAN FELLOWSHIP. 49 would seem as tliougli my call was to confine myself to public speaking. Therefore I cannot follow out any detail of friendships and acquaintanceships with the different members of my congregation ; but that does not prevent my feeling the strongest heart-yearnings toward them. My sense of this is so exquisite that ■ sometimes, on Sabbath mornings, it seems to me as though I stand among the assemblies of the just. Oh, these Sunday mornings — how sweet they come upon the world ! and they seem sweeter and sweeter to me as I get nearer to heaven. How rich are the consolations which we derive from sweet fellowship with one another ! How glorious is our coming together in the assembly of the saints ! How our songs roll out, and storm the very gates of heaven ! How our coming together, our thinking together, our rejoicing together, our praying together, our weeping together, and our singing to- a gether, have knit us together ! How many pews have been knit to pews ! How many families have been prepared to live better ! How many men have made acquaintances of each other ! How many have gone out in bands to work together ! And how many there are in whom, though you scarcely know them, you take a warm interest — toward whom your heart is like the orient !" Of Plymouth Church Mr. Beecher is still (1882) the pastor ; and it is safe to say that he will remain its pas- tor till the end of his active life. Several attemj)ts have been made to draw him away to other fields, without success. After thirty-five years of public ministry there is no sign of either diminished power or diminished popularity. The church is always crowded, 4 50 HENRY WARD BEECHER. except for a few weeks in tlie latter part of the sum- mer, when the residents of Brooklyn have left their city homes for the country and Mr. Beecher has not yet left the pulpit for his usual summer vacation. The spiritual resiilts of his ministry are evidenced by constant conversions and accessions to his church, and by its practical ministry of good works and active Christian philanthropy. Whenever he speaks else- where than in his own church (and no speaker is in greater request for public gatherings) he is always sure of a crowded house and a warm reception ; and it is certain that he is nowhere more a favorite with all classes than in his own home ; and this in spite of the great effort to drive him fi'om his pulpit and the city of his home. I do not propose to enter in these pages upon any detailed recital of the ah-eady too familiar facts in re- spect to what is known as " the great scandal," a scan- dal through which it is certain no other man in America could have lived and retained his position and influence. In 1870 Mr. Beecher was the editor- in-chief and a principal owner of the Christian Union, which was then rapidly increasing in circu- lation and influence. He had formerly been editor of the Independent, a journal of similar character, but had resigned in favor of Mr. TUton, who for some years was extremely successful and popular, but had by this time fallen somewhat under a cloud. Finding his own morality impeached, he adopted the peculiar defence of darkly insinuating that Mr. Beecher was open to grave suspicion in the same direction, and finally formed a determination to drive him from his School House in Whitinsville, Mass., in which Mr. Beecher taught in 1831 and 1833. Church in Indianapolis in which Mr. Beecher preached. MR. BEECHER FALSELY ACCUSED. 53 pulpit and from the city, by means of an accusation of some vaguely defined offence to Mr. Tilton's own family. This offence he soon stated to be one of im- proper advances, which Mrs. Tilton had repelled ; and while he whispered this to his friends, he persuaded Mr. Beecher, through a famous " mutual friend," that Mrs. Tilton had so far misconstrued his friendship for her as to be the victim of a morbid passion herself, which had utterly wrecked her happiness and health. Believing that this would never have happened if he had been sufficiently discreet himself, Mr, Beecher, with the instinct of a true gentleman, overwhelmed himself with reproaches, both by word and by letter. Mr. Tilton professed to be entirely satisfied, and invited Mr. Beecher to resume friendly relations ; but, at the same time, continued for years to whisper suggestions that there was some hidden fault, which would be dis- astrous to Mr. Beecher if exposed. At last, a direct charge against both Mr. Beecher and Mrs. Tilton was made in some disreputable newspapers. But not until June, 1874, did Mr. Tilton himself assume any respon- sibility for a charge. So long as the charge was whis- pered privately or published only in a disreputable sheet, without a responsible accuser, neither Mr. Beecher nor the public paid any attention to it. As soon as it assumed a definite form with a responsible accuser, Mr. Beecher submitted the whole matter to the investigation of a committee, consisting of some of the most eminent and respected members of his church and society. They reported unanimously, after giving Mr. Tilton a full hearing, that the charge was entirely false ; and this report was unanimously 54 HENRY WARD BEECHER. adopted by the cliurcli and congregation, Mr. Tilt on tlien brought an action at law upon the same charge. After a trial lasting six months, in which the only evidence against him consisted of the letters already referred to (which were ambiguous in meaning) and alleged verbal confessions, which he under oath ex- plicitly denied, the jury were discharged without a verdict, standing nine for unconditional acquittal of Mr. Beecher, one for unconditional conviction, and two who voted on some ballots for conviction, on others for acquittal. This suit was never tried again. The "mutual friend," however, brought another suit against Mr. Beecher, involving the same questions ; but when it was pushed to trial by Mr, Beecher' s counsel, the plaintiff became so well satisfied that he must fail, that he discontinued the suit, paying all costs. The regularity of the church proceedings by which Mr. Beecher was acquitted having been questioned, a council of Congregational churches and ministers was called by Plymouth Church to advise with it respecting its proceedings. It was probably the largest council ever called by any church in the his- tory of Congregationalism, and it included repre- sentative men from all sections of the country, many of whom came to the council with strong prejudices against Mr. Beecher on theological grounds, and a considerable number entertaining serious suspicions, founded on previous public reports, respecting his moral integrity. While this council did not undertake a direct investigation of the charges, a task impossible of execution by such a body without power to compel THE FAMOUS COUNCIL. 55 the attendance of witnesses or to administer an oath, it examined into the whole history of the proceedings of the church with respect to the case, subjecting Mr. Beecher to a searching cross-fire of qiiestions from all members of the council in an open session lasting for several days. After nearly a week spent in a most thorough and scrutinizing inquiry, it extended to Mr. Beecher, without a dissenting voice, the Christian fellowship and sympathy of the churches, and expressed the confidence of the entire council in his integrity. It appointed a tribunal of distin- guished jurists, wholly outside of Plymouth Church, ' to investigate any charges which might be made ; but no charges were ever brought before them. The New York and Brooklyn association of ministers, to which Mr. Beecher belonged, also appointed a committee of investigation, which publicly called for charges or evidence implicating him. To this public demand there was no resiDonse, and the association unanimously declared him entitled to Christian confidence and fellow- ship. The whole affair has been somewhat compli- cated in the public mind by Mr. Beecher' s unwisdom in the selection of some confidential friends at this trying period of his life, prior to the first publication of the scandal, and by his evident endeavor to keep it from becoming public, an endeavor not only not strange but abundantly justified by the injurious effects of its publication. Perplexity and doubt have undoubtedly been left in the minds of some who have never had the opportunity to ^investigate with care the charges and the singularly inadequate evidence on which they were based ; and suspicion 56 HENRY WARD BEECHER. has been enhanced in some quarters, doubtless, by personal, political, and theological prejudices ; but as the final result of the whole matter, Mr. Beecher retains his position as the most eminent preacher and one of the great thought leaders in America, while his princijjal accuser, who at one time occupied a foremost position in journalism and literature, has almost disap- peared from public recognition. The home life of a public man is not public property, and I have no right to introduce others to Mr. Beecher' s home. But those who have known him in the privacy of personal intercourse, and especially those who have seen him in his own home, surrounded by his grand- children, will always think that no one less privileged has truly known Mr. Beecher. His children are grown and married and have homes of their own. In winter he lives with his elder son, Henry Barton Beecher, in Brooklyn ; in the summer he lives at his country resi- dence at Peekskill, where the same son lives with him. He personally supervised the erection and interior dec- orations of this house, desiring, as he says, to express himself in an idealized American home. The foundations of this home were laid when, somewhat over twenty years ago, Mr. Beecher bought a farm at Peekskill, two miles or more back from the river, and occupied the little, low cottage that stood on the place. Near by rose the hill with the commanding view, where the present residence stands, and from the first this hill was re- garded as the site of a possible house, an air-castle, to be made the perfect Christian home. Meanwhile, as opportunity and time allowed, nature was invited to prepare surroundings for the imaginary house and HOME AT PEEKSKILL. 57 eagerly accepted the invitation. The world was asked for trees and sent them, so that to-day the farm has one of the rarest and finest collection of trees and shrubs to be found in any private American demesne. England, Europe, China, Japan, the United States, all have been laid under tribute, and as a result there are two or three hundred varieties of trees and shrubs ; over twenty different maples, as many varieties of pines, and great beds of azaleas, rhododendrons, and the choicest ornamental flowering growths. The house is architecturally pleasing, but neither obtrusive nor ostentatious ; a basement of granite ; a two-storied superstructure of brick, a many-gabled roof, and a broad veranda — these are the features. The interior is a study in the combined beauty, simplicity, and har- mony of the rooms, for while each room possesses an individuality of its own, each yet lives in art fellowship with its neighbor. There is no paint in the house from garret to cellar, except in the vestibule ; the wood- work is all of natural woods — cherry on the first floor, ash on the second, pine in the attic. The mantels are of wood decorated with tiles, and walls and ceilings are papered, with patterns which Mr. Beecher him- self selected. While there are assuredly costlier houses imperiously and loudly demanding admiration, it is doubtful if there was ever one which by exquisite harmony of proportion and treatment more modestly invited it. Some one has characterized the great Eu- ropean cathedrals as "frozen music." Mr. Beecher' s home is a pastoral sym]3hony. Here he has a delight- ful retreat during the summer from the toils of his public work throughout the major portion of the year ; 58 HENRY WARD BEECHER. here when the toils of his life are over, may he enjoy a well-earned leisure in a prolonged old age, surrounded by his friends and by those who are the best and most enjoyed of all his friends— groups of merry little children. CHAPTEE III. MR. BEECHER AS A PREACHER. Mr. Beecher's career as a preacher has been with- out a parallel in the history of the Church in America. For thirty-five years he has preached in the metropolis of the country ; in the same pulpit ; with no consider- able rest ; with very rare exchanges ; in the same com- munity ; and to a congregation in which there are not a few who have been regular attendants for a large part of this third of a century. During all this time the church has been always crowded ; every sitting taken ; the aisles full ; frequently all standing-room occupied. To accommodate the demand for seats the pew-holders have generally consented to vacate their seats in the evening, so that every Sunday Mr. Beecher preaches to two congregations ; and it is no exaggera- tion to say that he has employed as much influence to induce his own people to stay away Sunday night as most ministers do to get them out to church. During a larger part of this time his sermons havQ been re- ported in full in one or two newspapers, at times in three or four, and partially in several others ; so that to repeat a sermon was practically impossible. He has seen the whole aspect of both public questions and theological problems change in this third of a century ; but the tide has not stranded him, and he is still 60 HENRY WARD BEECHER. looked up to by a large body of progressive ministers ill the orthodox churches as their leader ; while his always bold and fearless and sometimes erratic utter- ances have not separated him from the evangelical con- nections and affiliations in which his spiritual sympa- thies as well as his birth and education hold him. Out of his ministry and in connection with it have grown Tip three Sunday-schools in Brooklyn, which were models when they were organized, and are still studied as patterns of what Sunday-schools may be and do. All three are liberally supported by the church. The name of Plymouth Church has been given to numer- ous Congregational churches all over the land, and the essential spirit and doctrine of its X)ulpit is taught in innumerable pulpits of both that and other denomina- tions. The sjoiritual work of the church has kept pace with its organic growth ; and while sporadic revivals, so-called, are less common in its history than for- merly, it is no uncommon thing at the Spring commun- ion to see a hundred converts sitting doA\Ti for the first time at the Lord's table. The power of this joreacher has been deep, wide-spread, and permanent ; and these three elements are all that are needed to demonstrate the reality of pulpit power. However men may differ as to its Dolue, its extent cannot be questioned. The study of such a pulpit j)henomenon is as valuable as it is interesting, even though there may be elements in the genius of the preacher which defy analysis. 1. The Sources of Ids Power. — Pre-eminent among the sources of Mr. Beecher's power stands his vital FAITH. In this respect he ranks with Paul, Luther, Wesley, Channing, with all men who have produced LIFE OF HENRY WARD BEECHER. 61 great moral and spiritual results and whose moral and sx)iritual powers liave been founded on unwavering vital faith. Mr. Beecher is one who walks with God, "* who carries with him continually a conscious presence of God as of a friend, whose thoughts turn instinctive- ly and naturally to God, and who draws his life from God. The means of attaining this Divine companion- ship are, with different men, through different faculties ; they look out upon God through different soul-win- dows ; they approach by different avenues of thought and spmtual emotion. Mr. Beecher finds the fullest realization of companionshij^ through ideality and love, and its result is shown in his preaching. The sx:)irit of Christ imbues every sermon, and allegiance to Christ underlies them all. His texts are mostly from the New Testament ; in the New Testament largely from the Gospels. He owed his conversion, or at least his coming out into the clear light of day, to a reading of the life of Christ in one of the Gospels at a single sitting, and ever since that event he has been studying that life and unfolding his theology and his ethics from it. It is not merely the illumination of incidents of Gospel narrative, nor his inspiring faith in the Divine origin of the Gospel and Him whose life it records, that is the power of his preaching, but above all things else it is a certain indescribable but invaluable living sympathy with Christ, the result of years of study, of i)rayer, and of Christian experience. A secondary element of his power is his intellect- ual INSIGHT, or, as Dr. R. S. Storrs has called it, "men- tal sensibility, emotional responsiveness. ' ' His mind is quick in action, far-seeing, arriving at truths, not by 62 HENRY WARD BEECHER. logical processes, but by intuitions, and in this respect resembles the penetration of mind of a clear-headed woman, or still more the prophetic powers of the ancient Hebrew seers. This is at once a source of de- fect and excellency in his preaching. His keen insight will discover a distant glowing point of truth to which he at once attains, o'erleaping all the intermediate by- ways of logic and sequence, over which less brilliant minds must travel at slower pace to reach an under- standing of the final principle. He will present a truth which at the moment he perceives, with little or no effort to show its relation to other truths, and there- fore excej^tion will be taken to the logic and consis- tency of his preaching. These exceptions will rarely be valid however, for as all truth is really consistent, the inconsistencies of Mr. Beecher are those of expres- sion and form of statement, not of the fundamental and essential principles of truth. While this intellectual activity has its defects it is of inestimable value in producing a vigor of mind which, says Dr. R. S. Storrs, " has made him apt and ready for every occasion ; that responsiveness which is called for in every minister, but which has been called upon in him more than in any other man, perhaps, in the whole American pulpit, during the last twenty -five years. He has never been found wanting in readiness for the occasion, no matter what the subject may have been, or what the scene. His mind has been full of vigor, and has kindled spontaneously^, by collision with persons, or with themes, or with circumstances, when- ever the occasion has been presented." Akin to this intellectual insight, although not the INTELLECTUAL ACTIVITY. 63 same, is the wide extent and the keenness of his imag- inative FACULTIES. He has the power of imaging, of presenting in concrete and, so to speak, visible forms, the moral meanings of beauty and deformity. It is the unique faculty of not only perceiving "ser- mons in stones, books in the running brooks, and good in everything," but the still rarer power of presenting these truths to other men, and educating a duller mind to perceive them for itself. This element of his productions meets with most im- mediate recognition and fullest treatment at the hands of writers on Mr. Beecher's preaching, and it will therefore be pardoned if rather long extracts are intro- duced here from those who have said the best things in the best way about his imagination. Prof. ISToah Porter writes: "Mr. Beecher is emi- nently imaginative. His jDower of drawing ideal pict- ures of the mind's eye, and of gilding them with the sunlight of his own warm heart, is marvellous, if it be judged from the images of a single discourse. But w^hen estimated by the streams of sermons, speeches, and lectures which seem to flow unceasingly from his fertile fancy in inexhaustible variety, it astonishes us by its productive power, as well as by the copious and felicitous dictation which this creative x)ower has ever at command," Prof. Hoppin discourses at greater length ujoon the imaginative quality of Mr. Beecher' s mind in the fol- lowing extract : * * Henry Ward Beecher. Prof. James M. Hoppin. New Englander, Vol. 29, 1870. 64 " HENRY WARD BEECHER. " We see in him as in tlie old preachers and prophets the high moral uses of the imagination. He has the poet's quick eye to see the spiritual sense in the home- liest things, in the most common facts and events. These are not always, it is true, of a highly religious character. Every one who has been a boy is delighted by the humorous description of a school- boy on a Sat- urday afternoon as he roams the fields and woods with an old rusty gun whose trigger is hopelessly out of order, a-nd who makes heroic efforts of achievements under immense difiiculties. Such an illustration forces a smile, perhaps broadening into a laugh, on the most solemn face, but it is by no means sure that wholesome humor in the piilpit, when it comes naturally, when sudden and irresistible, and when it is made subser- vient to more earnest objects, is always out of place. The mediaeval j^reachers, Latimer, Luther, and most of the old reformers, did not think so. At least this is Mr. Beecher' s effective way often of getting a hearing, of making his speech vivid, of rousing attention, of giving truth an incisive force, darting it into the open and unguarded place. Like Shakespeare, he first makes the people laugh and then weep ; as he says in his characteristic illustration (not this we believe a pulpit one) of a milk-pan filled with milk, that to tip it on one side is of a certainty to insure a correspond- ing rise on the other. This is very hazardous in such serious work as preaching, and few can imitate Mr. Beecher in this, and doubtless many are justly offended even in him. But who is there that cannot feel the beauty and force of such a natural and simple illustra- tion as the f ollovsdng from the sermon on ' The Prob- PULPIT HUMOR. 65 lem of Joy and Suffering in Life ' ? ' When the rude ox or fierce wind has broken off the shrub, and laid it down on the ground lacerated and torn, it lies there but a few hours before the force of nature in the stem and in the root begins to root ; and some new bud» shoot out ; and before the summer shall have gone round, the restorative effort of nature will bring out on that shrub other branches. And shall the heart of man be crushed, and God send sweet influences of comfort from above to inspirit it, and that heart not be able to rise above its desolateness ' ? Mr. Beecher is a poet, and it takes something of a poet to preach Christ's gospel. Who cannot understand the rough vigor of words like these : ' If you choose to take a pole and stir up men from the bottom, you will find plenty of mud ;' or of the graphic and shrewd figure of digging up a tree and cutting off its long anchoring and hold tap-root, in the sermon entitled ' The Victo- rious Power of Faith ? ' Illustrations so fresh, apt, timely, natural, forcible, form an element of style that may be called its vital expression, and which is, after all, nothing more than stating truth itself in such liv- ing forms that it comes home to the common mind, and, while it pleases, fastens as with a nail." Keen and comprehensive as are these analyses of Prof. Porter and Prof. Hoppin, that of the Rev. Wil- liam M. Taylor is even more graphic and apposite.* " Another peculiarity that distinguishes Mr. Beecher, and one which largely contributes to that originahty * Henry Ward Beecher. Kev. Wm. Taylor. Scottish Review, October, 1859. 66 HENRY WARD BEE HER. of wliich we have spoken, is to be found in the power- ful grasp and wide range of his imagination. In this respect, we believe him to be, if not the first, at least in the first line of the preachers of his day. He is a true poet, albeit, so far as we are aware, he is entirely innocent of verse. Many of these sparkling fragments have as much of the creative element in them as would make the fortune of a score of poet laureates. To use one of his own comparisons, they are like beautiful sj)ring flowers, full of fragrant perfume, and worth more by far than acres of ' the dried hay ' which is stacked up in the pages of our would-be poets. He appears to be equally at home in the beautiful, the sublime, and the terrible ; but he is most in love with beauty. When he chooses, he can array himself in the rough garment of an ancient prophet, and bring before his hearers a vision of awful grandeur and ap- palling power ; and there are many passages in his ad- mirable Lectures to Young Men which are almost unequalled for the vividness with which, they bring dark life-j^ictures before the mind, and the weird spell with which they bind the reader, until, at the close, a cold shudder runs through- the frame, and the very hair is made to stand on end. The description of the progress and fate of the gamHer, with its four scenes and tragic end, is of the most graphic and dramatic character, and we know of few things in pulpit elo- quence which may be compared with the peroration of the lecture in which it is given. It reminds us of our great dramatist more than of any preacher ; and when uttered from the pulpit, it must have fallen like a thunderbolt upon the audience. But, though thus EXQUISITE CRITIC OF ART. 67 a61e, like Prospero, to conjure np the tempest when he pleases, he delights rather to charm with the beau- tiful. He may occasionally visit Sinai mth its crash- ing thunder, but his dwelling-place is on Mount Zion the ' beautiful ; ' besides the ' waters of Shiloh that flow softly ; ' and his articles and discourses abound in the liveliest conceptions and combinations of beauty. There is in the ' Summer of the Soul,' 'a rhajDsody of the pen upon the tongue,' in the concluding paragraph of which we have a series of the most delightful imagin- ings, in which one follows another, like shower after shower of variated beauty, in the best species of fire- works. The possession of such a glorious imagination, too, has enabled him to understand and appreciate the creative works of others. No man has a truer sympa- thy with poetry than he, though he seldom quotes a line of it. The siglit of a fine painting will transport him into rapture, or melt him hi to tears ; and the strains of music, like those of Handel or Beethoven, or Mendelssohn, make his heart vibrate with responsive chords. He is qualified, from his own imagination, for being an exquisite critic of the fine arts ; and some- times, in his discourses and essays, he has given us specimens of his ability in this respect, which manifest the most refined taste, coupled with a most discrimi- nating judgment. There is in the first series of the *Life Thoughts' a comparison of the 71st Psalm to one of Beethoven's symphonies, which, for its own inherent beauty, as well as for its truthful description of that which is at all times most difficult to describe, must be admitted to be in the highest style of criti- cism ; and when he ventures to speak of the ' bards of 5 68 HENHV WARD BEECIIER. the Bible,' it is in such a way as to mark at once liis strong sympathy with their impassioned utterances, and his nice appreciation of the differences which dis- tinguish them. ^ ' ' But this is not all. The faculty of imaginative in- sight, which he possesses in such a high degree, enables him to see most wonderfully into those analogies be- tween the external and the internal, which it is ever the proj^erty of genius to bring to light. Hence his discourses are like strings of pearls. They are full of the finest illustrations, drawn from every source, and rising from the speaker's heart like water from a foun- tain. This is indeed their distinctive peculiarity — they are thoroughly spontaneous ; they are not laid aside, and hoarded up, as we have known some men to do, until an opportunity occurs for using them ; neither are they the result of the soul-travail of laborious effort, but they spring up out of the subject like way- side flowers, which are plucked as he passes, and given in all their freshness and fi^agrance to the companions of his journey. Nor does their naturalness strike us more than their abundance. There seems to be no limit to the exuberance of his fancy, or the wealth of Ms imagination. " 'For rhetoric, he cannot ope His mouth but out there iiies a trope.' " Supplemental to his faith, his intellectuality, and his imagination, is his HUMAisriTY, It is the value which he places upon man, the solicitude for material comfort and spiritual welfare, the enthusiasm of his devotion to freedom, that have characterized him as a INTENSELY HUMAN. 69 man of great emotion and broad sympathies. "What- ever interests men, interests him ; whatever stirs men' s hearts, stirs his heart deeply. This emotive power, this qnick responsiveness to appeal, this susceptibility to human experiences, is at once the generating and propelling power in Mr. Beecher. It is the steam and force of his activity, it gives fire and passion to all that he utters, and brings him into close relations with all classes of men. In brief, he is an intensely human preacher. Dr. R. S. Storrs, in his estimate of Mr. Beecher' s sources of power, says of this characteristic : "I should put next, I think, his quick and deep sympathy with men ; his wonderful intuitive perception of moods of mind, which make these stand out before him, like a procession passing in the street. You say, ' This is genius.'' Of course it is ; but it is the genius you ob- serve, not of the dramatist or the poet ; it is the genius of the great preacher, who catches his suggestions, his inspiration even from the eyes or the faces, shining or tearful, of the people before him. In a lower sense, in a sense how infinitely lower and yet m a true sense, we may say that a man who has that power is like the Master who knew what was in men ; who discerned it intuitively ; who made every precept, every promise, every instruction, every invitation, drive at that precise state of mind which he saw palpable, and present, and personal before him." This human sympathy can only come from a nature which includes in its breadth and generosity all classes of men, the poor and the rich alike, with whom he joys in their gladness and weeps in their sorrow. "No 70 HENRY WAPD BEECHER. preacher, ' ' says Dr. Haweis, * ' ' ever impressed us more with the feeling of living with the life of his people. He wishes to be one with them, not under- rating their difficulties, not imposing imaginary and disheartening standards of life and conduct, but with each new standard supplying a motive power, that so none may put their hand to the plough and turn back. Although he would always rather rejoice with them than suffer with them, he is content to bear their sor- rows, hear their confessions, and be depressed by their doubts and troubles. There is something almost Pauline in the way he seems at times to lift the bur- den of each one individually, to hold on to the souls of his people as one who cannot bear to let them go, whilst feeling that they must go, and are going ' from the great deep to the great deep.' " Professor Hoppin says to like effect : "The elements of common- sense, of reason, of nature, of a large hu- manity, are in such preaching. When he says of a child that as soon as he knows how to love father and mother, and to say 'Dear father,' and ' Dear mother,' then he knows how to love and worship God — people say * That is true, ' and they think they have thought like this themselves before Mr. Beecher thought it, notwith- standing that they have acquired a new idea. He thus makes the people a part with himself ; he takes them into his confidence ; he strikes into the real current of their thinking ; he speaks as if speaking out of their thought. There is a strong propulsion * Henry Ward Beecher. H. E. Haweis. Contemporary Review, Vol. 19, 1872. INTENSELY HUMAN. 71 given to his words by the combined unconscious con- sent of many minds who, as it were, listen apiDroving- ly as if to their own ideas. He has indeed found the great secret of popular power, such as John the Bap- tist had, such as St. Bernard had, such as Luther had. He is a ' king of men ' in moral and spiritual things. He takes hold of all classes. . . . He is encour- aging to those in doubt. He is a hope-bringer. He believes in man. He helps men. He is sympathetic to every kind of mind. He does not croak or scold. He is not solemn and stately, though he is in earnest, and sometimes terribly so." This human sympathy, and the value which he places upon the human soul and its greatest interests, is the quality of Mr. Beecher's life and preaching which has, above all other characteristics, gained for him his renown as a preacher for and to the people. It has been a subject for the most expanded and most detailed treatment in all analyses of Mr. Beecher's preaching, and the extracts quoted here are but a small part of the great store of writings on this topic. A fifth element of Mr. Beecher's power is his large fund of COMMON-SENSE. Faith, intellectual insight, imagination, humanity, all would be less prompt agents in his work as a preacher of the people, were it not for the sustaining power of his common-sense, which maintains an even balance between practical illustration and poetical imagery. It is the fine adjustment of his faculties, and the power of a neutralizing judgment, that keeps him wdth- in the sphere of his hearer's understanding, and that recalls him by an instinctive impulse when he is con- 72 HEXRY WARD BEECHER. scious of too great a flight of fancy or imagination. Many who lack this quality of level-headedness, whose efficiency is impaired by a preponderance of idealism, are termed visionary, and exert but a small degree of popular influence, but he who possesses this mental equipoise has that jDOwer of dispensing comfort and contentment which warrants brilliancies of thought and speech that weary us, "no more," as says Dr. R, S. Storrs, "than do the red banners of the cardinal- flower by the mossy brook-side, or the gorgeous flame of the golden-rod amid the ferns and brake." " The late Mr. F. W. Robertson," says an English re- viewer, estimating this characteristic of Mr. Beech- er' s preaching, ' ' managed to draw the teeth of many an offensive dogma, by attaching a highly spiritual meaning to the doctrinal letter. This is not always Mr. Beecher's method, but the most exasperating shib- boleths become harmless in his hands, owing to his singular faculty of seeing a common-sense side to every question : in short, his gospel is emphatically the gos- pel of common-sense. In his highest flights of thought, in his deepest expressions of religious feeling, he never loses a certain solid sobriety. To combine this with an impetuous temperament and a burning enthusiasm, such as he undoubtedly possesses, is a rare if not an original gift. How well Mr. Beecher employs thought and passion, common-sense, and a quiet, mystical re- ligious fervor, perhaps they only can quite estimate who, to use a slang expression, 'sit under him.' " The employment of humor as an element in preach- ing has often been excepted to. Humor is not, how- ever, a characteristic of Mr. Beecher alone, for other SARCASTIC BUT GENIAL. 73 great preachers are open to tlie same accusation. The wit and humor of Mr. Beecher, although keenly sar- castic on occasions, is invariably tempered by genial good -feeling, a quality that is often lacking in the sar- casm of his contemporaries. The true apprehension of this ]3oint, however, is given by Dr. Taylor in the ar- ticle previously quoted from. "But we must pass on to speak of Mr. Beecher' s humor, without some mention of which any sketch of him would be signally incomplete. This power is pos- sessed by him in large measure, and, like everything else about him, it is jDerfectly natural. He never goes out of his way to say a funny thing, nor does he ever say it merely for fun's sake, for it is with him a power more telling than the artillery of logic. We grant, indeed, that ridiciile is not always a right test of truth, . and we are disposed to admit that, in ordinary circum- stances, the puljjit is not the place for the disjjlay of humor ; yet there are some arguments which can only be met by a reductio ad ahsurdum, and it does strike us as somewhat strange that preachers who, like Rowland Hill, Berridge, Spurgeon, and many others, have given loose rein to their bit have been among the most eminently successful in their ministry. Whether this may be in consequence of their wit or in spite of it, we are not prepared to say, we simply in- dicate the fact ; but we fearlessly express our convic- tion that a witty something, even in the pulpit, is by no means so sinful as a witless nothing, however solemn it may sound. Mr. Beecher's humor is always ex- pressive, but it sometimes borders on the coarse, and in this, perhaps, more than in anything else, one feels 74 HENRY WARD BEECHER. disposed to qnestion the fineness of his taste ; but, then, much allowance must be made for a man of his natural temperament and rollicking disposition. He says many of these things, we believe, before he is aware that anything out of place has escaped him, and in justice to his reputation it must be mentioned that many of his most grotesque and humorous expressions have occurred in connection with the public intimations he makes, and not at all in the body of his sermons. It is his custom to make such announcements before he gives out his text, and sometimes he will talk for half an hour on topics which come thus incidentally before him, in a strain of bold and caustic criticism, which must often try severely the gravity of his audi- ence. The great redeeming feature of his wit is the sturdy common-sense that constantly pervades it ; yet it must be confessed, that the very sharpness of his ' hits ' tends, however paradoxically it may seem, to blunt the effect Avhich they produce, and may not un- frequently take away from the power of appeals which otherwise would be absolutely irresistible. When, however, his humor is under the restraint of his pen, it is everything that can be desired, and the fine taste which, in the heat of extempore utterance, is for the time dethroned assumes its wonted sway." His common-sense, his balance of faculties, in spite of the vehemence of his emotions, the clearness of his in- sight, and the brilliance of his imagination, hold him in close relations vdth the actualities of life. He is wings to the song, but he does not fly so far away from earth that he cannot be seen and heard. His common-sense, in spite of his ideality, makes him a practical teacher. CHAPTEE ly. METHODS OF STUDY. There is a very general impression, that Mr. Beecher is a brilliant man with a vivid imagination, a paint- er's power of description, a genial humor, a large heart fnll of fervid feeling, and that he is in conse- quence a brilliant off-hand extempore speaker ; but that he is no student, is the common remark of innu- merable critics, who would have us believe that this ever-flowing scoring is never filled, yet never gets dry ; that he is a sort of widow's cruse, that supplies un- ceasingly, but is never supx:)lied. Young men, am- bitious to emulate his genius, imagine they will do it best by learning to talk brilliantly, and never guess that it is equally essential to success to have something to say. In fact, however, Mr. Beecher is no mean stu- dent. That he is a peculiar and somewhat irregular one, that he studies by moods and not by the hour, is true ; but it is also true that, as a rule, he never speaks on any subject which he has not made his own by previous study ; and that there are few minis- ters in the New York pulpit who are more familiar with the course of modern thought than he, though there are many who keep a better account of what is in the books, and where to find it. And although it is fair to assume that he is now drawing largely 76 HENRY WARD BEECHER. from accumulated resources, as most men do who liave passed the line of sixty years, he is still a very con- siderable student, both of men and of books. He is, in the first place, and has been from the begin- ning, a hard student of ministerial helps. In his early ministry, perhaps before, he made a careful study of English Literature, and of the celebrated English cler- gymen. "I was," says Mr. Beecher, speal-dng of his €arly experience at Lawrenceburgh, ' ' a great reader of the old sermonizers. I read old Robert South through and through. I saturated myself with South ; I formed much of my style and of my handling of texts on his methods. I obtained a vast amount of instruction and assistance from others of these old sermonizers, who were as familiar to me as my own name. I read Barrow, Howe, Sherlock, Butler, and Edwards partic- ularly." The best analysis we ever heard of the great preachers of England, we heard once in a private con- versation from him, in which he pointed out which preacher to study for the use of adjectives, which for the purest Anglo-Saxon, and which for other proper- ties of style. He also gave the best discrimination be- tween Dante and Milton we have ever heard or seen. Not only has he been a student of the Greek and Latin classic authors and of English Literature, but the whole range of Literature comes within his hori- zon. A friend once met him in a bookstore poring over a medical book. "Going to turn doctor, Mr. Beecher?" said he inquiringly. "No, sir," said Mr. Beecher promptly; "but I study everything— except theology." The latest works on mental science are on Ms shelves, and their leaves are cut, and their edges HIS GENIUS FOR ACQUIRING KNOWLEDGE. 77 show signs of use. His seeming contempt for theology is not for the science of religion, but for that form of It which is borrowed from the scholastic period, and which abounds in modern theological treatises ; his contempt is not for abstruse study, nor for abstruse science, but for what, whether rightly or wrongly, he regards as science falsely so called. Coupled with study of all sorts of literature, is a rare aptitude for study. His genius for acquiring is as great as his genius for imparting. It is reported that Mrs. Beecher has said that he can go into a book- store and come out again, and give a good account of the information the books contain, from having read their titles as they stand on the shelves, a divination as startling as the power attributed to He Quincey, of translating his morning newspaper into Greek, for the sake of recreation. His power of rapid absorption is illustrated by an incident in my own j^ersonal ex- perience with Mr. Beecher. I once had occasion to submit to him the proof-sheets of a new work of over two hundred pages on certain aspects of phrenology. We were at dinner ; while the rest of us were finis iiing the second course he took a seat by the window, turned over the pages, passed on their contents, stop- ping here and there to read with more care a page or paragraph, and to criticise or commend, and at the close gave us an analysis of the book, which most men would have acquired only in a morning's study. We believe he read Fronde's History of England be- tween the dinner courses. Such readino; is an unsocial habit which we do not recommend, but it is one which certainly never would be fallen into by a man who was 78 HENRY WARD BEECHER, '' no student.' ' We do not think Mr. Beeclier pretends to be a Hebrew scholar ; in fact we have a strong recol- lection of his somewhere disavowing Hebrew scholar- ship. But he is no mean proficient in the Greek of the New Testament. We do not suppose he would contest the palm for supremacy with the Greek professor who, on his death-bed, said he had given his life to the eluci- dation of the first declension, but he had made a mis- take, he should have confined himself to the dative case. But his chief reliance among commentators is Alford's Greek Testament, which is comprehensible only to one who has at least a respectable familiarity with the Greek ; and that he is so familiar is evident alike by occasional sermons, and by his "Life of Christ," He has also a habit of relying upon special- ists in different departments for information on special points, and by their aid verifies his own impressions or less thorough information. The gold which they have dug out of the mine he mints and puts into cir- culation. The best evidence of his accuracy is the fact, that speaking and writing on so large a variety of topics, and as a combatant in controversies so many and so hot, it is very rare that critics have been able to prove him at fault in any important fact, whether stated as an argument or used as an illustration. Turning from Mr. Beecher's general methods as a student to his more special methods of pulpit prepa- ration, he exhibits three characteristics which have in- tensified his power as a preacher. By far the greater portion of his time is spent in gen-_ eral study and a much less proiDortion of time in special preparation for particular sermons than most HIS GENIUS FOR ACQUIRING KNOWLEDGE. 79 ministers. He is always studying, whereas his habit, at least in later years, has been to prepare his Sunday morning sermon on Sunday morning, and his Sunday evening sermon in the afternoon, selecting his text, analyzing his subject, making his skeleton and notes, and writing, whatever he does write, on Sunday. The Rev. S. B. Halliday, of Brooklyn, L. I., gives the following account from a long and intimate association with Mr. Beecher: "To many, indeed, Mr. Beecher's preparations for the pulpit will seem as remarkable as almost anything else that may be written or said of him. The manuscript taken to his pulpit is a mere brief, emphatically a skeleton. These notes could be written usually on a single note page. Earlier in his ministry, many of his sermons, if not all, were delivered from quite full manuscripts ; now only on very special occasions, perhaps half a dozen times in the last fifteen years, as when he has been severely criticised or cen- sured by the papers or pulpit, has he written out and read a reply to what had been said. Not infrequently his utterances on important points have been so grossly distorted as to be only caricatures, and these discourses were for the purpose of correcting misstatements, and were always carefully prepared. But such sermons are exceptional. He is a speaker rather than a writer ; and when he writes it is always at a heat, as it were, extemporaneously. I doubt if Mr. Beecher could be asked to do anything that would be more objection- able to him than to sit down to the table to write sev- eral hours a day through the week. I know several strong dislikes of his, but none other seems so invet- erate to me ; and if exigencies potent enough com- 80 HENRY WARD BEECHER. bined to secure a promise to write regularly, I would not be willing to guarantee the pledge. This dislike may have something to do with the uniform brevity of his skeletons. " I have never asked Mr. Beecher, but I have never seen anything that would lead me to suppose that he was at all guilty of studying after the manner of min- isters in general, and yet, in his way, I suppose him to be always studying, reading much, seeing much, hearing more, always and in all things a digger for facts, truths, illustrations, which are stored away, and so registered as to be ever available. No memory is more miserable than his in many directions, so that ordinary arrangements or appointments are quite nnreliable un- less written doAvn and some one made responsible as prompter. In other directions it would seem as if the things he needed were produced as if to order on all occasions. In sj)eaking he is never hesitant, except when the appearance is as if the provision was too abundant for the speaker's easy selection. Often it is quite apparent that when about to illustrate a point so many illustrations clamor for use as to be a perplexity. ' ' Idleness is as much a straiiger in Mr. Beecher' s brain as perhaps in that of any man's living. As much in recreation as at any time accumulation is going on. Many of the best sermons doubtless that Mr. Beecher has ever preached have been woven warp and woof from material gathered from the subsoiled furrow, the broadcasted seed, the growing and ripened grain, the fruits and flowers, forest and meadow, mountain and stream, trees and birds, flocks and herds, highways and hedges. The special or . mechanical preparation NEVER PREACHES A POOR SERMON. 81 for the pulpit is made only immediately preceding the appointed time for service. This is true not only of sermons at home but of special discourses. On one occasion when he was to preach a dedication sermon he arrived rather late at the minister' s house ; after supper, and but a brief time before the service, he prepared his notes on the margin of a newspaper in tifteen or twenty minutes, preaching from them, as was represented to me, a sermon that held the almost breathless attention of the congregation from the be- ginning to the close, occupying more than an hour in delivery. ' ' I am sometimes asked if Mr. Beecher never preaches any poor sermons. My answer is I have four classifi- cations for his sermons. First : poor ; for Mtti very poor, but the opportunity seldom occurs to accuse him of preaching one of this variety. Second : he preaches a few that could be called for him no more than good ones. Third : much the larger part of his sermons are truly excellent and satisfying, and though absorb- ing from an hour to an hour and fifteen minutes, or even more, people are not often discovered looking at the clock. Fourth : not infrequently a sermon is preached that is marvellous in power and eloquence, in which preacher and people are carried up heavenward together. Such was the character of a sermon which he preached one Sunday evening some eight or nine years since, on a passage in the 8th chapter of Romans. It seemed to me and to others as well as if Mr. Beecher had been given a new dispensation, that addi- tional visions of the glory and goodness of God in Jesus Christ were vouchsafed to him ; so that to say 82 HENEY WARD BEECHER. the congregation were electrified seems very tame. For my own part, I found no time to attempt to de- termine whether I was in the body or out of it. When the service closed I had the desire to have the opportunity to lay hands on some calm, self-possessed, thoroughly good judge of preaching, that I might de- termine how much my judgment was affected by ex- citement and partiality. Looking over the house I saw Professor Stowe standing in the pastor's pew. Has- tening to him I said : ' Professor, what about that ser- mon \ ' Very deliberately he answered, ' The first half of it was the most wonderful thing I ever listened to ; but the thing that is most wonderful to me is how he prepared it. After dinner this noon, I was walking in the library, and when he came up I said, "Henry, I would like to have you preach from those words some time," to which he immediately responded, "Mayas well preach from them to-night as any time." ' He went to his afternoon sleep, came down toward six o' clock, took a cup of tea, went into his study, and made the preparation from which he preached this sermon. This sermon I of course place in the fourth class, and would as soon think of attempting to describe Niagara as to describe it, or its effects upon myself or others. I was very glad to have Professor Stowe speak as emphatically as he did. I think that in the fifteen years that I have heard Mr. Beecher preach I have never heard a sermon from him that in any respect ex- celled this one, prepared in less than two hours. " Mr. Beecher places no value upon a manuscript, and after being used it may be obtained for the ask- ing. His sermons are never repeated. I do not be- FACILITY OF PREPARATION. 83 lieve Mr. Beeclier could preach a sermon the second time so that those who heard it first would recognize it. He has a sort of contemj^t or disgust for what he has written or used. When it was first proposed to issue his sermons in volumes the understanding was that he should revise those that should be selected and prej)ared by the gentleman who was to edit them. I heard him say that when the first was sent to him at the farm, reading a little while he was so disgusted with it that he went to the window, gave it a kick, sat down and wrote the editor if he had not preached anything better worth publishing than that, not to send him any more, and added, 'I am never so re- minded of the dog returning to its vomit, and the sow to her wallowing in the mire, as when I undertake to look at what I have written or preached.' Ordinarily in preaching very little attention is given to the notes or memoranda. Many times I have known them not to be looked at once from beginning to end. Some- times he appears to be reading for several minutes, and it is always with deliberation, and the statement of some particularly important point, and his eyes are not raised until the statement is completed. But all this time he is not reading, as I have ascertained again and again from his manuscripts, there being nothing written that would occupy a half minute in reading. " The readiness of his facility of preparation is just as manifest in addresses on special occasions as in his own i)ulpit. He was requested to make an address at the anniversary of the American Missionary Association In the autumn of 1873. The services were held in the Congregational Church, Newark, of which Dr. Wm. B. 6 84 HENRY WARD BEECHER, Brown was the pastor. Sitting in the pew Mr. Beecher listened perhaps twenty minutes to the proceedings, then covering his eyes with his hand for some two minutes, he took up one of the programmes and wrote on a blank leaf in pencil the following memoranda : " ' I. Missionary work — highest of all or disinterested work. "'II. Of all great work going on now — this seems least — and for its lack of interest — the high- est power. 1 Cor. over again. " 'III. These men must he educated. 1. For their sake. 2. Liberty without education a curse. 3. For our own. *''IV. America. God's test of Christianity.' ' ' The above is an exact copy of what he took into the pulpit, and which he threw in my lap when he came down, saying, ' There's my sermon. ' In the account of the proceedings published in the Society' s magazine for December is this allusion to the address : " ' The speech of Mr. Beecher, in which many of his friends thought he surpassed himself, was so far ex- tempore that the notes for it were written after he entered the church, on the blank leaf of an " Order of Exercises," which he found in the seat. We exceed- ingly regret that no full report was taken of it, for it deserved a larger audience than that which listened to it — large as that was.' " II. But rapid and brief as is Mr. Beecher' s for- mal preparation, he rarely, if ever, speaks on any subject unless he has made thorough study of it, a A Family of Clergymen. NEVER PREACHES A SERMON NOT RIPE. 87 study often extending over months and years. It is a mistake to suppose, as many do, that he speaks with- out preparation, because there are occasions when his oratory is the ]product of a sudden inspiration. Mr. Beecher is conscientious above most men, not to speak on any subject unless he is familiar with it, nor unless he has a clear conception in mind of what he is going to say, and why he is going to say it. The preparation thus made, Mr. Beecher broods his sermon. He rarely or never preaches a sermon that is not ripe. He rarely or never breaks the shell before the bu-d is ready to come out. His sermons are never addled eggs. On his study-table there lies, or used to, a little note-book with flexible covers about the size of a sheet of commercial note-paper. It is full of sketches of sermons, hints, subjects, themes, with occa- sionally a fully drawn out skeleton. His pocket is generally hall full of letters, and on the back of from one to half a dozen of these, thoughts for sermons are jotted down as they strike him in the cars, the hotel, the steamboat. And there they wait till, revolved over and over in his fertile brain at all odd moments, they have drawn to themselves juice from much thinking and are ripe and mellow, and ready to be plucked and pre- sented. Several years ago he was to preach an ordination sermon in New England. I was then carrying Harper's edition of Mr. Beecher' s sermons through the press, and meeting Mr. Beecher on the street, he said, "I think I shall preach a sermon at 's ordi- nation which you had better look at, on pulpit dynam- ics— that is, on the origin of pulpit power, and the 88 HENRY WARD BEECHER. methods of pulpit ministration." When the sermon came ont it proved to be a description of the advantages and happinesses incidental to the ministry as a pro- fession. The next time I met him I asked for an ex- planation. "Where is that sermon on pulpit dynam- ics?" said I. "Oh, it wasn't ripe," he replied; "I shall get something out of it yet, however." And he has ; has got out of it what seems to us one of the best pieces of work of his life, the ' ' Yale Lectures on Preaching. ' ' Thus he rarely goes into the pulpit or on the platform with crude or unfonned thoughts. During the week, two or three topics lie in his mind as those from which he will, most probably, select his next Sabbath's discourses. His thoughts turn to them ; his eyes gather illustration for them ; his pencil some- times, though not often, jots them down. The sermon, however, is rarely definitely outlined in his mind until the Sabba,th comes. Then after breakfast he goes into his study, feels his various themes, takes one that seems ripest, skeletons the outline, selects his text, and makes his notes. But while he does not speak on any subject until he has thoroughly familiarized him- self with it, he then speaks with perfect abandon. All i^ his caution is exercised in the decision of the question ^ whether he will speak at all ; none in the actual speaking. III. Mr. Beecher studies men as he would liter- ature, and indeed even more. If he desires information on any subject he seeks men who are eminent in the different departments of life, obtains their knowledge, assimilates it, and reproduces it with the stamp of his own mind and personality. This familiarity with men STUDIES MEN. 89 in all walks of life is a chief element of his success, and thus one of the first conditions of his work in the pulpit or on the platform is a knowledge of his audience. When he first visited England during the Civil War, he was besought to speak, but he persistently declined ; waited, during his travels, first in England, then on the continent ; studied the English temper ; studied the needs and sentiments of each separate locality; and then prepared for his campaign. Another man would have spent the time in writing one oration ; he spent it in unconsciously studying his audiences, so that when he came to his work, he made no two speeches alike, and adapted each one with marvellous slvill to the particular locality where it was uttered. It is thus that the study of human nature is not only an integral part but an essential part of his preparation for the pulpit. As a sharp-shooter studies his mark, Mr. Beecher studies his man. Some one in prayer- meeting alluding to one of his sermons and its effect, referred to the arrow shot at a venture. "I never shoot at a venture," said Mr. Beecher; "I always aim, though I often miss my mark and bring down unexpected game." When Mr. Beecher was about to deliver his famous course of lectures to young men in Indianapolis, which was then a great gambling centre, he succeeded in getting one of the gambling fraternity, and a leader among them, to visit his study. They spent the morning together, and the result was a sermon on gambling, the character of which is indicated by the following incident. A few evenings after its delivery, Mr. Beecher met a young man at 90 HENRY WARD BEECHER. an evening party, who thought to crack a joke at the expense of the preacher. "How could you describe a gambling-saloon so accurately," said the young man, "if you have never been there ?" " How do you know it is accurate, if you have never been there?" re- plied Mr. Beecher. Rev. Wm. M. Taylor says : ' ' Those who know him best say that he studies his sermons in the shops and stores, in the streets, and in the ferry- boats ; and we believe it, for they are like the produc- tions of a man who has gone through the city with his eyes open. They seem to have been struck out of him, if we may use such an expression, by the sights he sees and the sounds he hears in the midst of that whirling tide of human life that bubbles and seethes and hisses and roars around him; and his purpose by them is to descend into its depths and bring up " thence the souls of struggling men, to him more precious far than the silver cup or glittering pearl in the diver's eye." CHAPTER V. MR. BEECHER'S theology. In speaking of Mr. Beecher's theology, it miglit seem to be suflScient to i^rint simply some one of the several sermons wMch he has preached and published, in the course of his lifetime, defining his theological position. But it is always possible for the critic to assert that these sermons do not really embody the spirit and drift of his teaching ; that, intentionally or unintentionally, they are more conservative than the general course of his instructions. It is indeed not uncommon for j)ublic men to retreat, or at least to j)rovide a way of retreat, from positions taken in a moment of impulsive frank- ness, and which they find too far in advance for permanent occupancy. This is very common among political orators and it is not unloiown in the pulpit. Instead, therefore, of referring the reader to any of these general and comprehensive statements prepared and published by Mr. Beecher himself, I undertake the more difficult task of indicating Mr. Beecher's general theological position as exhibited in the whole course of his public ministry. In doing this I confine myself to no one epoch ; the quotations from various utterances, ranging through a third of a century, show what is certainly the case, that with changes of opinion respecting particular formulas, there has been a steady 92 HENRY WARD BEECHER. increase of spiritual faitli, and an undiminislied hold lipon tlie great central truths of the Gospel as held by the great body of Evangelical teachers. That this is his own belief respecting himself is very certain from a comx)aratively recent sermon on Religious Doubt. '^ "There have been things which I supposed were true, but which year by year, as I learned what they were, and understood their measure and their worth, I have dropped one after another ; and yet the change has been, not in the direction of loss, but in the direction of gain. I differ from most of my brethren in the ministry who suspect my orthodoxy, not in that I have abandoned so much, but in that I have taken on so much." Not only Mr. Beecher's methods of expression are peculiar to himself, but his system of j)hilosophy is also his own. And while isolated paragraphs taken from their connection might naturally enough seem to put him in antagonism to the Evangelical churches on some important points, any candid and comprehensive survey of his published sermons abundantly justifies his own declaration, that ' ' for twenty-five years, in newspapers, in x^rinted volumes, as well as from the pulpit, I have preached and printed, in every conceiv- able form, the truth of the inspiration of the sacred Scripture, the existence and government of God, the doctrine of the Trinity, the divinity of Christ as very God, the universal sinfulness of man, the atonement of Christ, the doctrine of a change of heart, the effi- cacious influence of the Holy Spirit in regeneration, * Sermon preached in Plymouth Church, Dec. 19th, 1880 ; published in Christian Union, Jan. 4th, 1881. NOT INDIFFERENT TO CREEDS. 93 and tlie doctrine of retribution, both, here and here- after."* Nor is it true, as often asserted, that Mr. Beecher is indifferent respecting belief, or hostile to creeds. His preaching has always been essentially doctrinal, em- phatically so during the last ten or fifteen years. He has again and again presented his own theological views in systematic form, the latest of these statements being a sermon entitled "A Statement of Belief," preached July 11th, 1880, published in the Christian Union for July 14th, 1880, and afterward reprinted in tract form.f He has repeatedly emphasized in sermons the importance of clear and careful thinking and of definite and positive belief. This is accompanied, how- ever, with a very emphatic and positive declaration that Christian faith is more than orthodox belief ; that men may be either better or worse than their creed ; that Z//(g, not oyinion, is the test of Christian experi- ence ; that if a man lives like a Christian he is to be recognized as a Christian without regard to the church or the creed to which he belongs ; that a great many of the questions about which theologians have quar- * From a letter by Mr. Beecher to Eev. Mr. Morrison, editor of the Presbyterian Weekly, written in reply to one asking for information re- specting his theological views>. The letter bears date January 8th, 1878. f Since this chapter was put in type Mr. Beecher, in withdrawing from the New York and Brooklyn Association of Congregational Ministers, has made a statement of his theological opinions which is reprinted in the closing pages of this book. This chapter remains unaltered, and thus the reader can judge for himself how far this general summary and Mr. Beecher's special statement of his views agree. S4 HENRY WARD BEECHER. relied are questions about wMcli they are wholly igno- rant, while concerning others belief is relatively unim- portant, because it produces no apjDreciable influence on character or conduct. But with these qualifications or limitations, if such they be, he lays great emphasis upon correctness of belief. A single quotation will suffice to represent his position on this subject. "It makes all the difference in the world what you believe in respect to those truths that are connected with godliness, with purity of thought, purity of mo- tive, purity of disposition. You must believe right about them. About those truths that are related to the ordi- nances of the Church ; to the framework of the Church ; to the question as to whether the ministry are suc- cessors of the apostles, or whether each one receives his commission direct from the Spirit of God in his heart — about those truths you may believe either way. You may believe that the Episcopal, the Methodist, the Baptist, the Congregational, or the Presbyterian Church 'Is the true Church ; you may believe that the Sabbath should be observed in this or in that way— you may believe any of these things, and be a good man. But with reference to the truths that are related to the character of man as a sinner having need of a spiritual change ; with reference to the truths that stand related to man's responsibility to God^ and to the government of God ; with reference to the truths that relate to your immortality — with reference to all these great, vital, experimental truths of the Bible, if you believe at all, you must believe right, or woe be upon you ! There is a right way and a wrong way of believing in respect to them. The wrong way leads to disaster, and RIGHT BELIEFS IMPORTANT. 95 the right way to benefit. Although with regard to ordinances, and creed-forms, and usages, it does not matter much how a man believes, yet with regard to those truths that relate to his immortal well-being it is very imjDortant how he believes." * This view underlies all of Mr. Beecher's methods of presentation of theological truths. He believes that right belief is important, and that it should be accurate, careful, and well defined, but he believes also that it should be practical, that religion should be not a theoretical but an applied science. From many itera- tions of this view I select one only, nttered twelve years later than the one quoted above: "Now I tell you that in religious matters it is in the ratio of right-know- ing that a man is likely to be a right-minded man. The knowledge does not need to be of an abstract form ; practical knowing may take the place of philosophical knowing ; but to think, to think rightly, to think sharply and definitely, and to link thoughts with each other, is indispensable. Right-thinking, sedulously" carried forward to mark out the path of life and character, is important. And he who teaches the young that they must scorn the idea of jDrecise beliefs, and that the better way is to come up generally, is a traitor to the young. Every school, every academy, every college, every university, and every dei^artment in them, is a protest against this notion of mere loose, vague, indifi'erent thinking. Object to this system if you please ; object to that system if you please ; object to * Sermon preached in Plymouth Church. Sabbath morning, Oct. 6th, 1861. Harper's edition, vol. ii., p. 297. 96 HENRY WARD BEECHER. abstract forms if you please ; make as many criticisms about proportions as you please ; but the great fact that men need to believe accurately, and that their beliefs are the foundations on which they build, is of transcendent importance." * A broad gulf separates the Rationalistic and the Evangelical schools of thought. Evangelical faith re- gards man as not merely an imj^erf ectly developed being, but also as sinful and guilty before God, and needing divine forgiveness and a new and divine impulse in order to enter upon a true and godly life. It believes that this divine forgiveness is disclosed and assured to man through the Bible and in the person of Jesus Christ. It believes that in Jesus Christ there has been made a manifestation to man, not merely of the character and attributes, but of the very person and being of God Himself, so that man need no longer grope like an orphan after an unknown Father. It believes that this God perpetually vouchsafes His presence and His power to His children, inspiring and guiding them in their endeavor after a divine life, and it teaches their accountability to Him, not merely for their moral con- duct in daily life one toward. another, but for their ac- ceptance or rejection of that aid which He proffers them and that life to which He invites them. To one who thus holds the helplessness of man left to him- self and the helpfulness of God vouchsafed to him, it is very easy to believe that this helpfulness has been disclosed in a written or spoken revelation, in an in- * Preached in Plymouth Church, June, 1873 ; printed in Plymouth Pulpit, tenth series, page 304. HIS BELIEF. 97 carnate manifestation, in a divine providence, in a spiritual experience given in answer to prayer, and in miracles afforded as the seal, or witness, or evidence authenticating the revelation and manifestation. In other words, the doctrines of Atonement, Incarnation, Regeneration, Inspiration, and Prayer all centre around and grow naturally out of the fundamental belief that man is helpless in his sin, and that God is a helpful and a saving God. Now while it is true that Mr... Beecher differs from most of his Evangelical brethren in his philosophical interpretation of some of these doc- trines, notably the doctrines of Inspiration, Atonement and Incarnation, it is certain that he is emphatically and distinctively Evangelical in the general structure of his mind and his teaching, that he lays more emphasis even than most ministers. on the actual and active help- fulness of God toward men, and the helplessness of men without God. 1. He maintains and emphasizes the distinction between inspiration and revelation. Eevelation he re- gards as exceptional and episodical. The Bible is a book which contains matter revealed by the Spirit of God to men selected to receive and communicate the revelation. Inspiration, on the other hand, he holds to be not an exceptional or episodical phenomenon. " I believe," he says,* " that God in every age and in all nations has moved upon the hearts of men by His Holy Spirit, inspiring them to whatever is true, pure and noble. I believe that the Scriptures, the Old * Sermon preached in Plymouth Church, Sunday morning, July 11th, 1880. Christian Union, July 14th, 1880. 98 HE^^RY WARD BEECHER. Testament and the New, contain the fruit of that in- spiration as it was develoj^ed in the Hebrew nation, and I fully and heartily accej^t the Bible according to the apostolic and only declaration of divine inspiration : All Scripture is given by inspiration of God, and is profitable for doctrine, for reproof, for correction, for in- struction in righteousness, that the man of God may be perfect, thoroughly furnished unto all good works. ' ' He holds that there are different degrees of inspiration in different books of the Bible; "that the teachings of Jesus Christ are of larger scope and of more value than the teachings of Moses ; the narratives of the Gospels are more valuable than the history of Ruth and Esther, ^^ beautiful as these are." He does not believe that the Scripture is a guide to scientific knowledge, and he re- jects and repudiates vdth great vigor the notion of ver- bal inspiration, and even of plenary inspiration in the full and proper sense of that tenn. He regards the Book as inspired for moral and spiritual purposes and to be measured only by its moral and spiritual uses. He says : "The Bible is a practical book, set up for the guidance of life. If you have seen old charts you have noticed strange forms, all sorts of animals, represented in them ; you have seen grotesque ornaments around about them ; and yet in the middle there was the ocean ; and there were, I had almost said, some of the great landmarks of the sea by which the sailors steered ; and the charts were good in spite of all the curious and vain imaginings that had been described around their borders, or stuck here and there into them. Now in this chart of life, the word of God, the current is clear THE BIBLE THE GUIDE. 99 and the channel is obvious. There never was a man in the world that wanted to live right, and to be a better man, who could not find out from the Bible how to do it. It is a guide to right living. That is all that it professes to be. It does not undertake to open the whole of divinity ; it simply undertakes to give a glimpse of it. It does not undertake to unpack, and develop, and analyze, and lay out before us all the mighty volume of the unsearchable God — it would be preposterous folly to claim that it could do such a thing ; it undertakes to teach men in this immoral and tempting world how to live better and better, to rise higher and higher, until by and by they are prepared by the earthly life to unite themselves with God." * 2. He disowns the doctrine of original sin, and denies any moral connection between Adam's fall and individ- ual sinfulness. Indeed he denies the doctrine of the fall altogether, regarding the story of the Garden of Eden as an allegory or parabolic poem, valuable for its spirit- ual lessons, but not for its ethnology or its history. He holds that the human race began in a low-down con- dition, or, at all events, that as far back as we can histori- \ cally trace the race, it is found to be more imperfect in / moral and spiritual as well as intellectual elements ; that ") as out of the babe the man is developed, so out of the \ race in its infantile condition the race in its manhood is , to be developed. Scientifically, he accepts in the main ' the hypothesis of Darwin concerning the origin of the human race — that is, that it was developed from lower * Preached in Plymonth Church, Dec. 19th, 1880. Published in Christian Union of Jan. 5th, 1881. 100 HENRY WARD BEECHER. animal forms. Theologically, he may be described as a Christian evolutionist. This has been his view for many years, though declared, perhaps, in later years with increasing clearness.* As far back as 1861 he said: " There has been, from the beginning of the world, a steady evolution from the seminal point in individuals and races. Childhood has developed into manhood. There has been going on, since the world began, a con- tiuous education in physical skill, in intellectual en- dowments, in energy, and in ethical qualities. And revelation teaches us that this fourfold, complicated education is going on, not only for time, but for eter- nity." f- This education he believes is being carried on under the direction of ' ' One who sits in Heaven and controls the elements of our being, and holds in his hands the threads of our destiny for time and for eternity." Nor has he in the least modified his faith that this process of development is carried on under the direct and im- mediate contact of the Spirit of Grod. If his interpre- tation of experience and history as an evolution is clearer, so also is his recognition of God as the inspir- ing and controlling Master of the great current of human life. He thus defines this belief in 1881 : * Since this chapter was in type he has declared his general belief in evolution, and his rejection of the doctrine of the fall in an article in the North American Review, which created no little stir by the boldness of its indictment of the Westminster Catechism as embodying false and degrading conceptions of the Divine character. f Sermon preached in Plymouth Church, Fall of 1861. Harper's edition, vol. ii., p. 123. EDUCATION NOT THE ONLY NEED. 101 "I confess that while in regard to the under king- dom of the world, the vegetable kingdom, I stand where I suppose every intelligent and well-read man of to-day stands ; yet when I consider the theory of devel- opment, and the substantial nature of the moral or religious feeling in man, I do not see any way in which that could have been unfolded without the direct inter- position aud guiding influence of the Spirit of God Himself. That God established that as the point to- ward which humanity should steer, and then left the winds and the currents to waft men in that direction — the reason of men, the ingenuity of men, and the very passions of men, restraining their wrath, and causing the remainder thereof to praise Him — that this has been the Divine method I think cannot be contradicted ; and that is a great deal," * But education even under a Divine teacher is not the only need of the human race. Repudiating the theo- logical philosophy which denies that there is any good in the "natural virtues," holding up habitually for commendation every good and praiseworthy act, deny- ing in toto the old theological assumption, that every act of an unregenerate man is necessarily sinful, stig- matizing the phrase "total depravity" as one of the most unfortunate and misleading terms that ever afiiict- ed theology, and as untrue as it is unscriptural, "a mis- chievous phrase," "an unscriptural, monstrous and unredeemable lie," his whole preaching is neverthe- less founded upon his profound sense of human sinful- * Preached in Plymouth Church, Dec. 26th, 1880. Published in Christian Union of Jan. 12th, 1881. 7 102 HENRY WARD BEECHER. ness. One confession of his faith in this regard may- serve as a type of many. "We believe, with continual sorrow of heart and daily overflowing evidence, in the deep sinfulness of universal man. And we believe in the exceeding sin- fulness of sin. We do not believe that any man is born who is sinless, or who becomes perfectly sinless until death. We believe that there is not one faculty of the human soul that does not work evil, and so re- peatedly that the whole human character is sinful before God. We believe man's sinfulness to be such that every man that ever lived needed God's forbear- ance and forgiveness. We believe that no man lives who does, not need to repent of sin, to turn from it ; and we believe that turning from sin is a work so deep and touches so closely the very springs of being, that no man will ever change except by the Kelp of God. And we believe that such help is the direct and per- sonal out-reaching of God's Spirit upon the human soul ; and when, by such Divine help, men begin to live a spiritual life, we believe the change to have been so great that it is fitly called a beginning of life over again, a new creation, a new birth. If there is one thing that we believe above all others, upon proof from consciousness and proof from observation and experi- ence, it is the sinfulness of man. Nor do we believe that any man ever doubted our belief who sat for two months under our preaching. Nothing strikes us as so peculiarly absurd as a charge or fear that we do not adequately believe in men's sinfulness. The steady bearing of our preaching on this subject is such as to plow up the soil and subsoil, and to con- HUMAN SINFULNESS. 103 vict and convince men of their need of Clirist's re- demption." * Any fair examination of Mr, Beecher's published sermons will abundantly justify the closing declaration in the above paragraph. He has his own peculiar way of preaching the doctrine of human sinfulness. He may even be said not to preach it as a doctrine, but to bear witness against men by indicting them in the court of their own conscience, not only of sinfulness in general, but of every phase and form of sin, from the minuter social delinquencies on which the pulpit rarely touches, to that forsaking of God which is the secret source and cause of all sin. 3. Holding to this general doctrine of human sinful- ness, he holds to man's need of "Divine interposition for correction and for forgiveness." He holds accord- ingly to the reality of that momentous change which is usually called conversion or regeneration. "This change does not require violence to be done to the mental organization. A man has the same faculties, intellectual, moral, social and animal, before conversion as after. Neither are the constitutional functions changed, nor the laws of mind under which all mental life exists. The change is analogous to that which happens to the thoroughly and chronically diseased body when it becomes decidedly convalescent." The whole object and purpose of his preaching is and has been twofold, to bring about this change in men, and to develop, enrich and educate them in the Divine life after once they have been persuaded to enter upon it. * Views and Experiences of Keligious Subjects, p. 184; 104 HENRY WARD BEECHER. The formation of Christian dispositions in men, the de- velopment of Christian character, the beginning and the nurture of a Divine life, the making men godly, Christ-like, the building up, not of doctrines nor of a church, but of a Divine manhood — this has been Mr. Beecher's aim from first to last ; and in the prosecu- tion of this aim his preaching has been accompanied with frequent revivals and many conversions. Empha- sizing always human instrumentality in this work, be- lieving always that God would do His share whenever men were willing to do theirs, he has nevertheless dis- tinctly and emphatically taught that the work is one which cannot be done by man alone, that the produc- tion of the Divine character can be accomplished only by Divine influence. He says : "When it is declared, that unless a man is born again he shall not see this new kingdom, it is simply the declaration that a man, in his animal being, or in his lower, passional nature, never will come into the experience which belongs to the purity of these higher feelings ; that he will never know what is the joy, the strength, the sympathy, the beauty, the power of this higher life ; that he will never know what is in him- self, nor what he can do. God has amplitude in him ; but man does not know what that amplitude is until by the Holy Ghost the nobler elements of his being are developed and brought into supremacy. Until we are bom of the Spirit, until that part of us which is in sympathy with God is touched by the Divine Heart, and we are brought into communion with God, we shall not see nor know the substance of that kingdom in which God and man dwell together. ; THE DOCTRINE OF THE ATONEMENT. 105 ' ' This I understand to be the general enunciation of the doctrine of Chi^ist, specially and personally. It is trae in respect to every one, as it is true in respect to races and generations of men, that he cannot, except by the Divine contact, rise into this higher sphere of life. N'o man can come to himself except the Father draw him. No man can come to God except God lead him. No man can come to his own highest nature ex- cept under the influence of the Divine Spirit." * Thus while Mr. Beecher rarely uses the word regen- eration^ perhaps scarcely more frequently than it is used in the New Testament, he has not laid less stress upon it than did Paul himself. 4. The same may be said respecting the doctrine of ' the Atonement. The Apostles' Creed contains a decla- ration of belief in the "forgiveness of sins ;" but no statement respecting the Atonement, that is, the method provided for securing and assuring this Divine forgive- ness. The spirit of Mr. Beecher's preaching has been somewhat that of the Apostles' Creed. He has abun- dantly proclaimed the forgiveness of sins through Jesus Christ ; this and the coiTelative truth, the Divinity of [ ^ Christ, have been indeed the central truths of his teaching. This fact is so universally recognized that we need not cite any illustrations. Perhaps for no one thing has Mr. Beecher been so much criticised as for the emphasis which he has put upon the tenderness, the compassion, the forgiving kindness of God, which his critics have thought he preached out of due pro- * Sermon preached in Plymouth Church, Jan. 29th, 1871. Eeported in Plymouth Pulpit, Sixth Series, p. 447-8. 106 HENRY WARD BEECHER. portion, to the ignoring of tlie Divine justice and the punitive element in the Divine government. He has not, however, contented himself with merely pro- claiming the pity and mercy of God. This pity and mercy which he believes are inherent in the Divine nature, not produced, nor evoked, nor even made effica- cious and, so to speak, workable by the death of Christ, he nevertheless teaches have both been mani- fested and set in operation upon the human race through Christ' s death. The theory that it was neces- sary that Christ should suffer in order to fulfil, by a literal equivalent, the threatenings of the law, or that those sufferings and that death were necessary to vin- dicate the justice of God and make pardon safe, he does not accept. His general teaching on this subject may be stated in two propositions : first, that they were "a means of disclosing the atoning nature of God;" that they "manifested the mind of God in such a way as to cause it to appear sweet and blessed and attractive forevermore ;" and second, that the sufi'er- ings and death of Christ were necessary for reasons known to the Divine Being, but not made known to us. "The sufferings and death of Christ were not inci- dental. They were divinely ordained. There was not only a use in them, but a necessity for them. Not alone is this declared, but it is the great undertone of the New Testament. The fact that man's salvation is through faith in Christ, and that the power of Christ to save men is connected with, or dependent on. His suffering for them, cannot be taken away from the New Testa- ment without abstracting its very life. It would be CHRIST THE MANIFESTATION OF GOD. 107 ]ike an organ without diapasons. It would have no basis. " * 5. Indissolubly connected with Mr. Beecher's preach- ing in connection with the forgiveness of sins is his view of Christ as the manifestation of God. It may "^ be emphatically said that Mr. Beecher has been a preacher of Chiist ; not of theories about Him, but of Christ Himself as a personal, living Saviour. How the view of Christ as the manifestation and disclosure of Ood early received by Mr. Beecher permeated his whole experience and transformed his whole character has been narrated in a previous chapter. His whole theological teaching has been founded on and grown out of this experience. On this as on other subjects Mr. Beecher has not expressed himself very frequently in philosophical or theological forms. He has, how- ever, very distinctly repudiated the common view of Christ's nature as a composite, in which the perfect God and perfect man are inexplicably united. ' ' The Bible," he says, "teaches just this, that the Divine mind was pleased to take upon itself a human body. We have no warrant in Scripture for attributing to Christ any other part of human nature than simply a body." And again : "Let me, in order to prevent all misapprehension, say that in every sense that man can understand, I believe in the Divinity of Christ. It is fundamental to * From Sermon preached in Plymouth Church, Fall of 1861. Harper's edition, vol. ii., p. 120. See his statement of belief in the closing part of this volume, for a careful statement of his views respecting the Atone- ment. 108 HENRY WARD BEECHER. Hay system of thought, to my conception of power, and to the whole of my ministry, and has been, with- out variableness or shadow of turning, from the day, many, many years ago, when I learned to preach with any success. I believe that Jesus holds to mankind the same relations that God does ; that He is perfect by His very nature ; that He has all power ; that He has supreme authority ; that all that human reason can conceive of Divinity resides in Him ; that He is the ob- ject of the highest love in heaven, and should be on earth ; that the most absolute obedience is due Him ; and that now and forever 'every knee should bow, and every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father.' " * The same view of Christ as the Divine Spmt, "mani- fested and expressed under the limitations of material laws and in a human body," he has more fully ex- pressed in his Life of Christ, f " The Divine Spirit came into the world, in the per- son of Jesus, not bearing the attributes of Deity in their full disclosure and power. He came into the world to subject His spirit to that whole discipline and experience through which every man must pass. He veiled His royalty ; He folded back, as it were, within Himself those ineffable powers which belonged to Him as a free spirit in heaven. He went into captivity to Himself, wrapping in weakness and forgetfulness His divine energies while He was a babe. ' Being found * Preached in Plj'moiith Church, Feb. 6th, 1881. PubHshed in Chris- tian Union of Feb. 16th, 1881. j Life of Jesus the Christ, chap. iii. "The Doctrinal Basis." GOD CAN PUT HIMSELF INTO FINITE CONDITIONS. 109 in fashion as a man,' He was subject to that gradual unfolding of His buried powers which belongs to in- fancy and childhood. 'And the child grew, and waxed strong in spirit.' He was subject to the restric- tions which hold and hinder common men. He was to come back to Himself little by little. Who shall say that God cannot put Himself into finite conditions? Though as a free spirit God cannot grow, yet as fet- tered in the flesh He may. Breaking out at times with amazing power, in single directions, yet at other times feeling the mist of humanity resting upon His eyes, He declares, ' Of that day and hour knoweth no man, no, not the angels which are in heaven, neither the Son, but the Father.' This is just the experience which we should expect in a being whose problem of life was, not the disclosure of the full power and glory of God's natural attributes, but the manifestation of the love of God, and of the extremities of self-renun- ciation to which the Divine heart would submit, in the rearing up from animalism and passion His family of children. The incessant looking for the signs of Divine power and of infinite attributes, in the earthly life of Jesus, whose mission it was to bring the Divine Spirit within the conditions of feeble humanity, is as if one should search a dethroned king in exile, for his crown and his sceptre. We are not to look for a glorified, an enthroned Jesus, but for God manifest in the flesh ; and in this view the very limitations and seeming dis- creiDancies in a Divine life become congruous parts of the whole sublime problem." This philosophy of Christ's character is not, however, that which Mr. Beecher has made prominent in his 110 HENRY WARD BEECHER. preaching. The prominence has been given to his per- sonal experience of love for, reverence toward, and trust in Jesus Christ as a personal God and Saviour. It is in this personal faith that he recognizes his own irre- concilable opposition to the rationalistic school of thought. " Could Theodore Parker worship my God ? — Christ Jesus is His name. All that there is of God to me is bound up in that name. A dim and shadowy effluence rises from Christ, and that I am taught to call the ■Pather. A yet more tenuous and invisible him of thought arises, and that is the Holy Spirit. But neither are to me aught tangible, restful, accessible. They are to be revealed to my knowledge hereafter, but now only to my faith. But Christ stands my manifest God. All that I know is of Him and in Him. I put my soul into His arms, as, when I was born, my father put me into my mother's arms. I draw all my life from Him. I bear Him in my thoughts hourly, as I humbly believe that He also bears me. For I do truly believe that we love each other — I, a speck, a particle, a nothing, only a mere beginning of something that is gloriously yet to be, when the warmth of God's bosom shall have been a summer for my growth ; and He, the Wonderful, the Counsellor, the Mighty God, the Ever- lasting Father, the Prince of Peace ! " * To Mr. Beecher the divinity of Christ is not a dogma to be defended by scholastic methods ; it is an expe- rience to be confessed, a food to be eaten and lived upon, and his whole heart goes out in worship to * Views and Experiences of Religious Subjects, p. 197. MR. BEECHER BELIEVES IN INSPIRATION. Ill Clirist as the one altogether lovely, to whom every knee shall bow, and every tongue shall make confes- sion. "And shall I follow Christ through all my life ; be- hold His beauty ; twine about Him every affection ; lean upon Him for strength ; behold Him as my leader, my teacher ; feed upon Him as my bread, my wine, my water of life ; see all things in this world in that light which He declares Himself to be ; in His strength van- quish sin, draw from Him my hope and inspiration, wear His name and love His work, and throughout my whole life at His command twine about Him every affection, die in His arms, and wake with eager upris- ing to find Him whom my soul loveth, only to be put away with the announcement that He is not the recipi- ent of worship ! Well might I cry out in the anguish of Mary in the garden, 'They have taken away the Lord, and we know not where they have laid him.' " * 6. Holding to the inspiration of the Bible, the divine influence of the Holy Spirit in the regeneration of man, the atoning work and the divine character of Christ, it is almost a matter of course that Mr. Beecher be- lieves in the authenticity of the New Testament, and in the reality of the miracles. NoAvhere in either preach- ing or writing is there a sign of that feeble rationalism which attempts to reduce the supernatural to a mini- mum without rejecting the Bible altogether by finding naturalistic explanations of the miraculous events re- corded in the Scripture. * Sermon preached in Plymouth Church, May 6th, 1860. Harper's edition, vol. i., p. 85. 112 HENRY WARD BEECHER. " We scarcely need to say that we shall take our stand with those who accept the New Testament as a collection of veritable historical documents, with the record of the miracles, and with the train of spiritual phenomena, as of absolute and literal truth. The mi- raculous element constitutes the very nerve-system of the Gospel. To withdraw it from credence is to leave the Gospel histories a mere shapeless mass of pulp." * Mr. Beecher has always occupied this stand in the pulpit, on the platform, and in all his published writ- ings. 7. It remains only to speak of his views respecting future retribution ; vi^ws which have been sometimes misquoted and even honestly misapprehended. It is not uncommon for ministers to give their con- gregations so much of their views as they think can be given without subjecting them to charges of heresy, and Mr. Beecher's published views on the subject of retribution have frequently led to the imputation to him of views which he does not hold, and which he has distinctly repudiated. His general teaching in its prac- tical aspects on this subject may be characterized as undogmatic. He holds to a future retribution, but confesses his ignorance respecting its nature, character, and duration. A paragraph from a sermon preached twenty-two years ago illustrates the spirit with which he treats this theme in his practical ministry. "For all those who have been clearly taught, who have been moved by their wicked passions deliberately to set aside Him of whom the prophets spake, whom the * Life of Jesus the Christ. Introduction. EETRIBUTION. 113 apostles more clearly taught, whom the Holy Spirit, by the divine power, now makes known to the world through the Gospel — for them, if they reject their Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ, there remaineth no more sac- rifice for sin. If they deliberately neglect, set aside, or reject their Saviour, He will deliberately, in the end, reject them. Sometimes, in dark caves, men have gone to the edge of unspeaking precipices, and, wondering what was the depth, have cast down fragments of rock, and listened for the report of their fall, that they might judge how deep the blackness was ; and listening — still listening — no sound returns; no sullen plash, no clinking stroke as of rock against rock — nothing but silence, utter silence ! And so I stand upon the preci- pice of life ! I sound the depths of the other world with curious inquiries. But from it comes no echo and no answer to my questions. No analogies can grapple and bring up from the depths of the darkness of the lost world the probable truths. No philosophy has line and plummet long enough to sound the depths. There remains for us only the few aathoritative and solemn words of God. These declare that the bliss of the righteous is everlasting ; and with equal directness and simplicity they declare that the doom of the wick- ed is everlasting." * There is no doubt, however, that Mr. Beecher' s views have been modified since this sermon was preached. He has never himself formulated them fully in any public utterance. It is doubtful whether he has yet * Sermon preached in Plymouth Church, Oct. 9th, 1859. Harper's edi- tion, vol. i., p. 109. 114 HENRY WARD BEECHER. clearly formulated tliem in Ms own mind ; but the results which he has reached he has declared with his accustomed boldness. They include the following points : 1. That there is a retribution, an after-death punish- ment; and that Christ taught this truth* "when He declared with solemnity and earnestness that the pen- alty of wickedness in the world to come was such as to warn every transgressor, and should be a motive to every good man to turn back his fellows from evil.' ' 2. That there is a provision of mercy in another life for those for whom no adequate provision has been made in this ; that there is no authority in Scripture for the commonly received notion that all probation ends with this life ; that it is equally impossible to be- lieve that the great mass of the human race up to this time have gone from death into heaven without any further preparation, or that they have been doomed to eternal death without any further opportunity for re- pentance, or larger moral influence to bring them to repentance. This view he has stated with characteris- tic power and eloquence in his famous discourse on " The Background of Mystery." f ' ' If, now, you tell me that this great mass of men, because they had not the knowledge of Gfod, went to heaven, I say that the inroad of such a vast amount of mud swept into heaven would be destructive of its purity ; and I cannot accept that view. If on the other * Sermon preached in Plymonth Church, July 11th, 1880 ; published in Christian Union, July 14th, 1880. f See eermon published in Christian Union, December 26th, 1877. ETERNAL SUFFERING. 115 hand you say they went to hell, then you make an inli- del of me ; for I do swear, by the Lord Jesus Christ, by His groans, by His tears, and by the wounds in His hands and in His side, that I will never let go of the truth that the nature of God is to suffer for others rather than to make them suffer. If I lose everything else, I will stand on the sovereign idea that God so loved the world that He gave His own Son to die for it rather than it should die. To tell me that there is a God who for unnumbered centuries has gone on creating men and sweeping them like dead ffies — nay, like living ones — into hell, is to ask me to worship a being as much worse than the conception of any me- diaeval devil as can be imagined ; but I will not wor- ship the devil, though he should come dressed in royal robes, and sit on the throne of Jehovah. I will not wor- ship cruelty. I will worship love, that sacrifices itself for the good of those that err, and that is patient with them as a mother is with a sick child. With every power of my being I will worship such a being as that." 3. That any one of God's creatures will exist in eternal suffering he does not believe. The alternatives are of course either that the impenitent will be re- claimed in another life or that their life will finally be- come extinct. Mr. Beecher does not accept, or at least he does not teach either of these alternatives. The one would make him a Universalist, the other an Annihilationist. He is neither. His position is that, if not of ignorance, at least of one who holds his mind in abeyance waiting for further light. He neither ac- cepts the dogma of Universalism, that all men will be restored, nor that of Annihilationism, that some men 116 HENRY WARD BEECHER. will be destroyed. He contents himself with preaching simply that persistent sin in this life involves a terri- ble doom in the life to come, respecting the nature and outcome of which the Scriptures leave us in uncertain- ty. The following declaration on this subject is recent and explicit : '^ "Whatever I believe beyond the simple statement of our Lord that the consequences in this life go over and are terrible in the life to come, whatever is beyond this, the explicit Scripture, is a belief founded upon analogy, philosophy, etc., and is an opinion, and not a definite knowledge. This is the point which dis- criminates between my position and that of Univer- salists, Restorationists, Annihilationists, and Retribu- tionists. They hold their respective views as dogmas ; that is, as facts based on the authority of Scripture. I hold simple retribution as Scriptural, but its duration, its nature, and its results I hold simply by conjecture, and not by dogmatic assumption. They are my opin- ions ; they are very positive, but they do not pretend to be founded upon express Scriptural warrant. I be- lieve that what Scripture teaches is that evil done here does not cease with death, but goes over, with pains and penalties beyond." What are the opinions held in conjecture, here hinted at, he has nowhere publicly disclosed ; but we believe that it is safe to say that they involve a combi- nation of Restorationism and Annihilationism ; a belief in a future probation the result of which will be the restoration of some and the final extinction of others. * Sermon published in Christian Union, July 14th, 1880. THEOLOGICAL POSITION PECULIAR. 117 We have now gone over Mr. Beecher's general theo- logical views, summarizing them, as the limit of our space compels us to do, with brevity. It would be easy to multiply quotations to enforce and illustrate every position. We have shown that Mr. Beecher, in his fundamental faith in the helplessness of man, and the helpfulness of God, belongs with the Evangelical as opposed to the Kationalistic school ; in his view of the divinity of Christ and the necessity for an atone- ment, with the Orthodox as opposed to the Unitarian school. But in the Orthodox School he occupies a po- sition as a theologian peculiarly his own : in his view of the Bible, regarding it rather as a peculiar product of inspiration than as the product of a peculiar inspira- tion ; in his view of human nature, regarding sin as an individual fact in experience, and history as a course of evolution under divine guidance ; in his view of redemp- tion, regarding regeneration as a restoration of the soul to its normal condition by divine influences, and atone- ment as a provision for pardon and reconciliation af- forded by God through Christ, the reasons and nature of which are inexplicable ; in his view of Christ as the Divine Spirit manifested in a human body and under the limitations of a human life ; in his view of miracles as the real and natural attestations of divine revelation, working through nature, not in violation of it ; and in his view of future retribution as a terrible fact, the nature and end of which are unrevealed. CHAPTER YI. ME. BEECHER AS A JOURNALIST. Mr. Beecher's first venture as an editor was in Cincinnati, a short time before entering npon his ministerial work. "He was," says Mrs. Stowe, "for four or five months editor of the Cincinnati Journal^ the organ of the N. S. Presbyterian Church, during the absence of Mr. Brainerd. While he was holding this post, the pro-slavery riot which destroyed Birney's press occurred, and the editorials of the young editor at this time were copied with high approval by Charles Hammond, of the Cincinnati Gazette, undoubtedly the ablest editor of the West, and the only editor who dared to utter a word condemnatory of the action of the rioters. Mr. Beecher entered on the defence of the persecuted negToes with all the enthusiasm of his nature. He had always a latent martial enthusiasm, and though his whole life had been a peaceful one, yet a facility in the use of carnal weapons seemed a second nature, and at this time, he, with a number of other young men, went to the Mayor and were sworn in as a special body of police, who patroled the streets, well armed. Mr. Beecher bore his pistol, and was de- termined, should occasion arise, to use it. But as usual in such cases, a resolute front once shown dis- solved the mob entirely." But journalism as a real avocation he first took up in Mr. Beecher at Different Ages. (l) At 23 years of age. (2) At 30. (3) At 40. (4) At 50. {5) At 65. MR. BEECHER AS AN EDITOR. 121 Indianapolis, as — Heaven save the mark — a recreation ! He was settled at the time at Indianapolis, the capital of Indiana. There were nothing but political papers in the State — no religious, or educational, or agricul- tural, or family papers. The Indiana Journal proposed to add an agricultural department, to be reprinted monthly, under the title of Western Farmer and Gardener^ and Mr. Beecher undertook to edit it. His editorship was solely a labor of love ; his preparation for it was his rest. He shall tell the story in his own words ; no one could better the telling. " It may be of some service to the young, as show- ing 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 consecutivve months, without the exception of a single day, began to wear upon the nerves, and made it necessary for us to seek some re- laxation. Accordingly we used, after each week-night' s preaching, to drive the sermon out of our head 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 pored over these monuments of an almost incredible industry, and read, we suppose, not only every Une, but much of it many times over ; until at length we had a topographical knowledge of many of the fine English estates quite as intimate, we dare say, as was possessed by many of their truant owners. 122 HENRr WARD BEECHER. " There was something exceedingly pleasant, and ia 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 accu- mulated materials and became familiar with facts and principles, which paved the way for our editorial la- bors. Lindley's Horticulture and Gray's Structural Botany came in as constant companions. 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 throw off the excitement of preaching, and beguiling the time with imaginary visits to the Chiswick Garden or to the more than Oriental magnificence of the Duke of Devonshire's grounds at Chatsworth. We have had long discussions, in that little bedroom at Indianapolis, with Yan Mons about pears, \Y\th. Vi- bert about roses, with Thompson and Knight about fruits and theories of vegetable life, and with Loudon about everything under the heavens in the horti- cultural world. This employment of waste hours not only answered a purpose of soothing excited nerves then, but brought us into such relations to the mate- rial world, that, we speak with entire moderation 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." The habit of learning from men as well as books was characteristic of the young and enthusiastic editor, REMARKABLE DESCRIPTION OF A FLOWER. 123 then as ever since. There is a story, for the details of which we will not vouch, that he was accustomed to at- tend a club meeting of farmers, paper and pencil in hand, always modestly refusing to join in the discus- sions, but always keeping careful note of them ; and that his subsequent embodiment, not however usually in form of reports, of the sifted results of the discus- sions, was one of the features which gave the Western Farmer and Gardener its early and national reputa- tion. It was one of the first, if not the very first, suc- cesses in agricultural journalism in this country. Another story, for the substantial truth of which I can vouch, shows what good use he made of other people's knowledge, gathered wheresoever he could find it. He wrote a description of some remarkable flower, which was caught up and copied far and wide as a rare portrait of a rare plant. He had never seen it, however, having gathered the materials for his pict- ure from the books and vitalized them by his own pic- torial imagination. Several years afterward he was visiting an Eastern hothouse, and was introduced to the gardener as the editor of the Western Farmer and Gardener. The host, proud of his possession of an un- usually fine specimen of the flower which Mr. Beecher had so graphically described, took him straight to see it. Mr. Beecher examined, admired, and asked its name. The astonished gardener gave its scientific title. "Yes! yes!" said Mr. Beecher; "but its common name. What do folks call it?" Whereat the indignant gardener, thinking his learned guest was chaffing, told him to his astonishment that he was looking on the original of his own description, and 124 HENRY WARD BEECHER. could hardly believe Mr. Beecher's solemn assertion that he had never set eyes upon the flower till that moment. When in 1847 Mr. Beecher came to Brooklyn the anti-slavery struggle was beginning to assume portent- ous dimensions. Into it he threw himself heart and soul, from the outset being a leader among leaders in his intense radicalism. The religious press was almost wholly either pro-slavery or silent. The attitude of the great body of the churches was fairly represented by that of the American Tract Society and the Ameri- can Board. The one would publish nothing about slavery because all evangelical Christians were not agreed concerning it ; the other would bear no witness against slavery in its missions among the ISTorth American Indians, because to speak was to ensure exile from the missionary fields. The Tract Societies of Boston and Cincinnati were formed in protest against the silence of the one ; the American Missionary Asso- ciation in protest against the silence of the other. In this epoch, and out of the same intense feeling, the New York Independent was born. It was the child of the battle-field ; its god-fathers and god-mothers were warriors. Its financial support was furnished by three or four Congregationalists who were also abolitionists. Its editors were a trio of Congregationalists, then in their prime and full of the fire of youth in the most fiery epoch of their country's history — Drs. Storrs, Bacon, and Thompson. The latter was stroke oars- man. He had a genius for organizing, and for patient and steady work. The young and eccentric preacher was engaged as a regular contributor. He was too A GREAT EDITOR. 125 impetnons and too independent to work in a team ; his associates preferred that he should alone be respon- sible for his own utterances ; he preferred to be free to utter what he would, untrammeled by any sense of divided responsibility. Mr. Beecher, like General Grant, has never held a council of war. He listens to advice, but rarely asks it ; takes counsel, and is often influenced, but never governed by it. Though not one of its editors, he did perhaps as much as either one of them to give the paper its tone, and to make its voice heard throughout the United States. During Cal- houn's last illness one of Mr. Beecher's contributions to the then infant Independent was read to the dying statesman. Paper and writer were then alike compar- atively unknown. The title of the article, " Shall we Compromise V indicates its theme ; its character can- not be easily imagined except by one who puts himself back in a time when " compromise" was the theme of Clay and Webster in the Senate, of Stiles and Adams and Blagden in the pulpit, of the N. Y. Observer and the Boston Recorder in the press, indeed of almost every politician, pulpit, and newspaper of note in the land. " Read that again," said the dying Calhoun to his secretary. It was read again. " Who writes that ?" he asked. The name of the unknown writer was given to him. "That fellow understands his subject," was Calhoun's final comment. " He will be heard from again. He has gone to the bottom." It is not without good ground that the author of the " History of Jour- nalism in America" counts Henry Ward Beecher one of the two great editors of the United States, one of the two journalists par excellence of America. 126 HENRY WARD BEECHER. . His method of preparation, then and during the short subsequent term in which, after the resignation of Drs. Storrs, Bacon, and Thompson, he acted as editor-in-chief of the paper, was peculiar. The con- trast between the methods of Dr. Thompson and Mr. Beecher was characteristic. Dr. Thompson had his regular day at the office. He rarely missed it ; was never early, never late, always exactly punctual. He calculated to an inch the amount of matter required, and never gave too little or too much. He never outstayed his time, and never hurried away before it had expired. He was never idle and never in a hurry ; he was never greatly excited and never absolutely at rest. As an editor he was the delight of compositors and publishers, Mr. Beecher came in somewhere about the time his manu- scrii)t was expected ; sometimes boiling over with ex- citement ; sometimes bubbling over with humor. He sat and talked of anything and everything but the business before him till the printer's devil made his final and imperative demand for copy. Then he caught up his pen, turned to the nearest desk, shut himself up in his shell as impenetrably as if he were a turtle, and drove his jDen across the paper as if it were a House printing machine and he were an electric bat- tery. He threw off the pages as he wrote them, left the boy to pick them up and carry them off to the compositors' room, and, the work done, was off, leav- ing some one else to read proof, correct errors, and sup- ply omissions. But what he wrote in a heat and at a sitting went like a ball from a minie rifle, from one end of the land to the other. Wise men shook their ALWAYS READY AND THOROUGHLY PREPARED. 127 heads over Ms " imcautious utterances," but they kindled thousands of hearts into a blaze. The leaders which characterized the Independent during his short editorial charge of the paper have never had their equal in kindling force in American journalism. It was on the eve of the civil war. It required the man, the time and the audience to produce them. Never before were such man, such time, and such audience combined. The onlooker might imagine from this picture that Mr. Beecher is a careless workman, throwing off crude impressions, half -formed and ill-digested, and trusting to genius to take the place of conscientious study. The onlooker would be greatly mistaken. Mr. Beech- er's mind works like lightning in production because it has worked thoroughly in preparation. As a partial preparation for his anti-slavery editorials he made himself thorough master of Story on the Constitu- tion, Kent's Commentaries, and Lieber's Civil Liberty and Self-government, and other kindred authorities. For details he always went to well-informed specialists. His memory of principles is as tenacious as his memory of names and dates is slippery and evasive. Whatever he has once learned always comes at command ; he is like a many-barrelled revolver ; the ammunition is all stowed away in the right place, and in the time of bat- tle always responds to the click of the trigger. He is always sure of his ground ; hence he walks with a free and firm tread. When three years ago he published his caustic criticism on the Bible Society for suppress- ing a revised edition, and publishing one condemned by its own committee as full of errors, he had so thor- 128 HENRY WARD BEECHER. ougMy grounded himself in every detail that no an- swer could be made, and none was attempted by the Society. The ideal editor fulfils a threefold function : he is creator, administrator, and writer. He forms his own conception what the journal is to be, what place it is to fill, what work it is to do, what circle of readers it is to address ; he organizes it to do that work, se- cures the writers, examines their contributions, meas- ures them by their relation to his conception and theu* adaptation to its execution ; and he moulds all writers by his own strong, clear, vigorous writing, leads by his pen, and others follow, Now it is very rare that any editor fulfils all three functions. Mr. Delane, of the London Times ^ it is said, never wrote a word for his own journal ; he was creator and administrator. His genius was that of organizer ; selector of men to write better than he could what he wished written. One of the ablest editors in American history was Fletcher Harper. He never wrote a line for publication ; rarely if ever read a manuscript. But he created Harper' s Magazine^ Harpefs Weekly and Harpef s Bazar ; selected the editors ; pervaded as well as inspired their administration ; gave each periodical its distinc- tive character and made it what he willed. Horace Greeley was both creator and writer, the Tribune was a new birth ; but he was not an administrator, he has often been surpassed in the art of organization. On the other hand, Henry J. Raymond followed ex- amples set before him in shaping the Times ; other writers have surpassed him in both force of thought and compactness of expression ; but he was absolutely "THE CHRISTIAN UNION." 129 without a rival in the art of managing a great news- paper. Henry Ward Beecher is not an administrative editor ; he has never attempted for any length of time to manage a newspaper ; but he has created a new school of journalism, and he has given it impulse and inspiration by his own pen. Immediately after his withdrawal from the Inde- pendent^ capital was offered him to start a new paper. The idea of the capitalists was to make it a new Con- gregational journal, but that was not Mr. Beecher' s idea. He had engaged to write "!N"orwood," and the newspaper enterprise was laid aside for the time. A little later J. B. Ford & Co. purchased the feeble Church Union, living with a scanty subscription list on the verge of bankruptcy, and announced Mr. Beecher as its future editor. The scheme of the Church Union had been to unite all Protestant sects in one organic church. This chimerical project had no support from Mr. Beecher' s practical mind; he or- dered a change of its name to Christian Union, and the new name was unfurled upon its banner before the new commander had assumed the responsibility of command. Its title indicated its essential character. Mr. Beecher determined to have a paper as broad as Christianity, as free from sectarian bias as the Sermon on the Mount. He determined to invite to its columns men of every name, united by no common creed nor in any common organization, but only in a common si)irit of love for men and faith in Clirist as their Lord and Saviour. We have often heard him say, "It is i)os- sible to have a church in which men of all traditional faiths and systems shall unite in work and worship 130 HENRY WARD BEECHER. •for Christ. We have it in Plymouth Church, where Quaker and Episcopalian, Calvinist and Arminian, Unitarian and Trinitarian, sit side by side at the same communion-table and work side by side in the same Sunday-school. I believe it is possible to have a journal which shall embody the same principle." That was his thought when a year or two before he had been asked to start a new Congregational paper. That was his thought for the Christian Union from the day of its christening with its new name. From that funda- mental thought he never wavered or turned aside. It was a radical thought then. Fifteen years ago unde- nominational religious journalism was absolutely un- known if not unthought of. It was supposed to be necessary to have a church constituency behind each church organ. In England each great Review repre- sented a religious school ; such monthly symposia as the Nineteenth Century and the Contemporary^ in which atheist and Roman Catholic churchman sit down at the same table, were not dreamed of. In this country the Christian at Work, the Golden Rule and the Alliance were not born ; the N. Y. Observer was the organ of the Old School Presbyterians ; the Inde- pendent, started, as its name indicates, as a Congrega- tional journal, on money furnished by Congregational capitalists, to j^romote Congregational ideas, and edited by three leading Congregational divines, was still so far recognized as a Congregational organ that a junta of Congregational clergymen in the ^Yest did not hesi- tate to call it to account for its loose theology and take bonds of its owner for better behavior in the future. It was at this epoch that Mr. Beecher launched the THE MISSION OF "THE CHRISTIAN UNION." 131 Christian Union as a simply Christian newspaper. He appealed from the hierarchy to the people. He had always done this in his pulpit ; he now made a wider appeal in the newspaper. Along with this fundamental idea was another, equally fundamental. Dr. William M. Taylor, now pas- tor of the Broadway Tabernacle, in an article published in 1859, in the Scotch Remeio^ refers to Mr. Beecher's ' ' assertion and reiteration of the great truth that religion is a life and a power for all places and circumstances." To assert and to reiterate this was from the first the mission to which he ordained the Christian Union. He determined to make a i:)aper primarily for the com- mon people, and therefore a paper primarily helpful to them, and therefore a paper of "life thoughts." To make life the text-book ; to lind the themes in daily events, public and private ; to expound Providence rather than the Bible, and the Bible rather than dogmatic theology ; to teach religion as an art rather than as a science, as a practical art rather than as a species of aesthetics :— this was the purpose with which he imbued the paper from its birth. Organ of party sect or person he would not have it ; not even an organ to defend its own editor when every other religious journal was closed against his friends. And so it was by his imperative orders that it kept silence when policy would have dictated vigorous speech ; and its managing editors could avoid the possible suspicion of lack of fealty to their slandered associate, only by seizing the occasion of his absence from the city to put in their own protests, over their own names, against their misconstrued silence. It was a part of / 132 HENRY WARD BEECHER. this same determination that the paper should teach a practical godliness, which made him resolute that it should practise what it preached. He would have no word of editorial or quasi editorial utterance paid for by advertiser. Of Insurance Department, with its paid puffs or its paid silence, and Financial De- partment, with its apparently guileless commenda- tions of certain stocks at so much a line, the Christian Union was always absolutely clear in all administra- tions. ' The history of the paper, of which he was the father, like that of all journals, has been one of varying fortunes. It sprang into a marvellous success at its birth, reaching, in an incredibly short time after its birth, a circulation of upward of a hundred and thirty thousand. Then came adversity : financial diflBculties in the business management, odium theologicum ex- cited against it on account of the religious views of some of its subordinate editors, the "great scandal," and, more influential of all, " hard times," compelling great reduction of receipts both from subscribers and advertisers. But the paper has long since passed through all that experience, retaining, in minor changes of scope and administration, its name and essential character. And when, in the fall of 1881, Mr. Beecher sold his interest in it to personal friends, and left its direction in other hands, it was because its character and future were established beyond peradventure, and because the treble duties of preacher, lecturer, and editor had grown too arduous to be longer continued. His editorial work is probably ended, but his editorial influence will never cease to be felt in the larger THE MISSION OF "THE CHRISTIAN UNION." 133 charity, the broader views of life, and the greater in- dependence of thought which he, as much perhaps as any living man, has helped to impart to American journalism. CHAPTER VII. MR. BEECHER AS A LECTURER AND ORATOR. In "Men of Our Times" Mrs. Stowe writes of lier brother as a boy of ten years : "Henry Ward was not marked out by the prophecies of partial friends for any brilliant future. He had precisely the organization which often passes for dullness in early boyhood. He had great deficiency in verbal memory, a deficiency marked in him through life ; he was excessively sensi- tive to praise and blame, extremely diffident, and with a power of yearning, undeveloped emotion which he neither understood nor could express. His utterance was thick and indistinct, partly from bashfulness and partly from an enlargement of the tonsils of the throat, so that in speaking or reading he was with difficulty understood. In forecasting his horoscope, had any one taken the trouble then to do it, the last success that ever would have been predicted for him would have been that of an orator. ^ When Henry is sent to me with a message,' said a good aunt, 'I always have to make him say it three times. The first time I have no manner of an idea more than if he spoke Choctaw ; the second, I catch now and then a word; by the third time I begin to understand.' " That a youth so eminently unfitted by nature to be an orator should have become subsequently one of the HIS ELOCUTIONARY EDUCATION. 135 greatest of modern orators, argues an application to the study of oratory, and a determination to overcome its difficulties, not less arduous than were shown by De- mosthenes, who, to correct a stammering tongue, prac- tised speaking with pebbles in his mouth, and to strengthen a weak voice proclaimed i:)oems in the diffi- culty of breath which was caused by running up a hill. Mr. Beecher's study and training, although of a dif- ferent nature, were no less thorough and efficacious than the methods of the old Athenian, and he has lately given an account of his elocutionary education. He says : " I had from childhood a thickness of speech arising from a large palate, so that when a boy I used to be laughed at for talking as if I had pudding in my mouth. When I went to Amherst, I was fortunate in passing into the hands of John Lovell, a teacher of elocution ; and a better teacher for my purpose I cannot conceive. His system consisted in drill, or the thorough practice of inflexions by the voice, of gesture, posture and articulation. Sometimes I was a whole hour prac- tising my voice on a word, like justice. "I would have to take a posture, frequently at a mark chalked on the floor. Then we would go through all the gestures ; exercising each movement of the arm, and the throwing open the hand. All gestures except those of precision go in curves, the arm rising from the side, coming to the front, turning to the left or right. I was drilled as to how far the arm should come for- ward, where it should start from, how far go back, and under what circumstances these movements should be made. It was drill, drill, drill, until the motions almost became a second nature. Now I never know what move- 136 HENRY WARD BEECHER. ment I shall make. My gestures are natural because this drill made them natural to me. Tlie only method of acquiring an effective education is by practice of not less than an hour a day, until the student has his voice and himself thoroughly subdued and trained to right expression.'"^ As a preparation for the work of his life, which was to be largely occupied in public speal?:ing, such a thorough course in elocution even to one unembarrassed with defects of voice, was of great value ; for an intel- lect, however powerful and rich, without the adequate means of expression and emphasis, would be crippled in its power of benefiting mankind in no small degree. Mr. Beecher's study of oratory at Amherst has un- doubtedly been one of the most efiicient means in the acquirement of his success, and has been an attainment the value of which he could not at that time have fore- seen. The familiarity with the ways and means of pro- ducing elocutionary effects, the management of his voice, the carriage of his figure, and the use of hands and arms in gesture, were thus acquired before he entered college, and he did not cease his study and practice after entering, for we learn from Mrs. Stowe : "Oratory and rhetoric he regarded as his appointed weapons, and he began to prepare himself in the department of Tiow to say — meanwhile contemplating with uncertain awe the great future problem of what to say.'''' For the formation of style he began a course of Eng- lish classical study; Milton's prose works. Bacon, Shakspeare, and the writers of the Elizabethan period * Christian Union, July 14th, 1880. HIS LECTURES TO YOUNG MEN. 137 were his classics, read and re-read, and deeply pon- dered." The resources thus acquired were then, as now, fre- quently drawn upon, not only in college exercises, but in occasional appearances before the village audience where, it will be remembered, he delivered three lectures on Phrenology. These are, however, of interest only as historical facts, and as the first steps in the field of platform- speaking. The series of "Lectures to Young Men," delivered during Mr. Beecher's pastorate in Indianap- olis, are the first that stand out conspicuously with the seal of the man's maturity and earnestness of purpose. They were preached first as sermons, and were called forth by the depravity and vice and immorality which at that time characterized much of Western civilization. Mr. Beecher relates of them : " The lectures were writ- ten each one during the week preceding the day of its delivery. I well remember the enjoyment which I had in their preparation. They were children of early en- thusiasm." Although addressed to young men, they are full of important lessons for all ages from youth to old age. The topics reveal the character of the lectures. Indus- try and Idleness, Dishonesty, Gamblers and Gambling, The Strange Woman, Popular Amusements, Practical Hints, Profane Swearing, Vulgarity, Happiness — under these titles Mr. Beecher presents impressive warnings, draws vivid pictures of vice and its results, expresses important truths, and appeals to the highest manhood of every youth. The illustrations are fresh and happy, frequently humorous, and throughout the lectures there 138 HENRY WARD BEECHER. is such genuine interest in arid sympathy with the lives of young people, that they at once feel the writer's ear- nestness and integrity of purpose and recognize the truth of his teachings. The style is vigorous, forcible, earnest, abounding in life-like pictures that convey a fuller meaning and a stronger moral than any amount of abstract treatise on immorality. The forcible and realistic scenes that he describes in the lecture on Gambling, for instance, carry such a weight of meaning in their words, and are so full of signifi- cance, that they need no extended explanation to bring home to his hearer's hearts the sad moral they convey. In a series of word-pictures he portrays the career of a young man, " a whole-souled fellow, who is afraid to seem ashamed of any fashionable gayety." Scene first introduces the reluctant and conscience-stricken youth at a quiet little card and wine-party in a genteel coffee- house. Scene second is a silent room in the early morning. Candles bum dimly on a table, round which are seated four men, motionless, haggard and watchful, intent on their cards and each other's faces. At length they rise and withdraw ; some with their gains, others sullen over their losses. The young man is the most sullen and the fiercest of them all. Scenes third and fourth we quote entire : "Scene the third. Years have passed on. He has seen youth ruined, at first with expostulation, then •with only silent regret, then con- senting to take part of the spoils ; and, finally, he has himself de- coyed, duped, and stripped them without mercy. Go with me into that dilapidated house, not far from the landing, at New Orleans. Look into that dirty room. Around a broken table, sitting upon boxes, kegs, or rickety chairs, see a filthy crew dealing cards GAMBLERS DESCRIBED. 139 smouched with tobacco, grease, and liquor. One has a pirate-face burnished and burnt with brandy ; a shock of grizzly matted hair, half covering his villain eyes, which glare out like a wild beast's from a thicket. Close by him wheezes a white-faced dropsical wretch, vermin-covered, and stenchful. A scoundrel Spaniard and a burly negro (the jolliest of the four) complete the group. They have spectators — drunken sailors, and ogling, thieving, drinking women, who should have died long ago when all that was womanly died. Here hour draws on hour, sometimes with brutal laughter, sometimes with threat and oath and uproar. The last few stolen dollars lost, and temper too, each charges each with cheating, and high words ensue, and blows ; and the whole gang burst out the door, beating, biting, scratching and rolling over and over in the dirt and dust. The worst, the fiercest the drunkenest, of the four is our friend who began by making up the game. ^^ Scene the fourth. Upon this bright day stand with me, if you would be sick of humanity, and look over that multitude of men kindly gathered to see a murderer hanged. At last a guarded cart drags on a thrice-guarded wretch. At the gallows' ladder his courage fails. His coward feet refuse to ascend ; dragged up, he is supported by bustling officials ; his brain reels, his eye swims, while the meek minister utters a final prayer by his leaden ear. The prayer is said, the noose is fixed, the signal is given ; a shudder runs through the crowd as he swings free. After a moment his con- vulsed limbs stretch down and hang heavily and still ; and he who began to gamble to make up a game, and ended with stabbing an enraged victim whom he had fleeced, has here played his last game, himself the stake." Such pictures as these, considered artistically, possess a power, an accuracy of detail, an artistic sense of coloring and composition, an arrangement of light and shade, that mark the author as an artist ; con- sidered morally, they possess a depth of significance, a directness of application, a sincerity of purpose, and a power of instruction that show a great teacher. 140 HENRY WARD BEECHER, They bear a strong resemblance to tlie works of Hogarth, and the word pictures of Mr. Beecher might have been the interpretation, if one were needed, of the works of the great English artist. But neither the word-pictures nor the painted pictures require interxjretation. Both speak for themselves. With equal power, the British artist with his brush and the American preacher with his sermons have pre- sented the lessons to be drawn from the follies of their respective times ; and while, on the one hand, the scenes of Hogarth possess a power of satire that is lack- ing in those of Mr. Beecher, there is, on the other hand, an earnestness of moral purpose in the scenes of Mr. Beecher that is wholly wanting in the paintings of the English master. The paragraphs here quoted are but solitary examples of pictures that abound throughout these lectures, which, dealing with moral subjects, are thoroughly practical, and calculated to awaken the dormant perceptions of young men to the dangers that surround them. These lectures were first collected and published in 1845 ; a second edition was brought out in 1846, and of these two editions more than sixty thousand copies were sold. A third edition was published in 1873 by J. B. Ford & Co. of New York, who included it in theii' "Uniform Edition" of Mr. Beecher' s works. In the preface to the third edition Mr. Beecher gives this humorous account of the lectures and the narrow- ness of their escape from oblivion : ' ' Dr. Isaac Bar- rows' sermons had long been favorites of mine. I was fascinated by the exhaustive thoroughness of his treat- ment of subjects, by a certain calm and homely dignity, ENCOURAGEMENT. 141 and by Ms marvellous procession of adjectives. Ordi- narily adjectives are the parasites of substantives — courtiers that hide or cover the king with blandish- ments— but in Barrow's hands they became a useful and indeed quite respectable element of comi)Osition. Considering my early partiality for Barrow, I have always regarded it as a wonder that I escaped so largely from the snares and temptations of that rhetorical demon, the Adjective. Barrow has four sermons on 'Industry.' I began reading them. Before half fin- ishing the first one, I had found that he had said every- thing I had thought of and a good deal more. In utter disgust I threw my manuscript across the room, and saw it slide under the bookcase, and there it would have remained had not my wife pulled it forth. After many weeks, however, I crept back to it, led by this curious encouragement. A young mechanic in my parish was reading with enthusiasm a volume of lec- tures to young men, then just published. Every time I met him he was eloquent with their praise. At length, by his persuasion, I consented to read them, and soon opened my eyes with amazement. After going through one or two of them, I said, ' If these lectures can do good, I am sure mine may take their chance ! ' I resumed their preparation, but I kept Barrow shut up on the shelf." Mr. Beecher has appeared as a lecturer and an orator for many seasons and on many occasions. "In 1856 the society," says the Plymouth Church Manual, "at the request of a number of eminent clergy- men and others, voted him leave of absence to traverse the country on behalf of the cause of liberty, then felt 142 HENRY WARD BEECHER. to be in peril." At the time of the "fugitive slave law" bill, when there was instituted a Union Saving Committee at Castle Garden, New York, for the pur- pose of making out black lists of those merchants who were to be ruined financially unless they consented to change their principles, Mr. Beecher labored manfully in maintaining the proscribed merchants, and urging them to resistance. He also lectured upon this subject throughout New England and New York, and wrote a series of articles for the Independent."^ He has de- livered single lectures, and lectures in courses, in many of the principal cities of New England, the Middle States, the South and West, and it is stated on good authority that his beautiful country home at Peekskill on the Hudson was built from the proceeds of two years' lectures. Mr. Beecher came to the East in the midst of the intensity of the anti-slavery conflict, threw himself into it, in the metropolis, with all the ardor of his passion- ate nature, and at once occupied a front rank on a. platform which abounded with orators, and in an epoch which evoked oratory such as has at no other time in American history been heard in America. Prom 1847 to the outbreak of the Civil War in 1861 the nation was steadily rising from a red heat to white heat, till it became molten in war. The volcano underneath was heaving ; the eruption was preparing to take place. Slavery was becoming more and more lordly and arrogant, and was steadily extending its aggres- sions. It had long since purchased Louisiana. It * Mrs. Stowe's "Men of Our Times." THE ANTI-SLAVERY EPOCH. 143 had swooped down upon Mexico, to make of Texas a slave empire of enormous proportions. It followed this act of spoliation by trampling under foot its own covenant, destroying the Compromise line, and open- ing all the farther West to slavery. The Douglas device of "Squatter Sovereignty" — the absurd no- principle that the first handful of immigrants in a Ter- ritory should be permitted to determine its perma- nent character and destiny — was next invented. Kansas was thus flung open to the border ruffians, with pistol and bowie-knife, who wanted no better sport than the guerilla campaign to which this invited them. The North proved herself equal to the emergency : emi- gration societies were organized ; the emigrants were equipped with Sharpe's rifles ; and at public meetings held in churches at the North collections were taken up to aid them. It was at one such collection that Mr. Beecher, in one of those epigrammatic utterances which are sometimes the best fruit of genuine oratory, declared that a Sharpe's rifle was better than a Bible to convert a border ruflfian — an epigram that ran through all the country, and earned for the rifle the name of " Beecher 's Bible." Popular Sovereignty failed, and Kansas was made free by her own vote. Then the next step was taken : slavery was declared not local but national ; and the right of the master to hold his slave in every State of the Union was gravely argued on constitutional grounds by lawyers, and even seri- ously defended on moral grounds by Doctors of Di- vinity. Mr. Toombs made his famous boast that he would call the roll of his slaves under the shadow of Bunker Hill ; and it did not seem then the presump- 144 HENRY WARD BEECHER. . tuous boast that it seems now. The demoralization of the public conscience was frightful. The church-bells all over the country called men together to save not fellow-men from chains and slavery, but the Union by perpetuating slavery and fastening the chains upon the slave. The doctrine of a " higher law" than the law of the land was not only jeered at by politicians but denounced by ministers. The Fugitive Slave law made it a crime to aid a man escaping from bondage ; to feed him, clothe him, guide him, shelter him. Ministers from the pulpits preached the duty of obedi- ence to this infamous law, on the text, "The powers that be are ordained of God." The crime against humanity was ignored ; the condemnation uttered by Christ against those who do not feed the hungry, clothe the naked, visit the sick and the imprisoned, was practically erased from the New Testament. I well remember the impression produced upon the audience by Mr. Beecher one Sunday morning by a single sen- tence, solemnly uttered with upraised hand : " If I had a son who was a slave, and he did not seek for liberty at every hazard and at every cost, I would write across his name the word ' Disowned.' " The sentence seems simple enough now, but it thrilled the audience then like a flash of electricity from a powerful battery. Such an epoch was prolific in orators and oratory. The audience, the time, the theme, the men, were all there. Among the men it is certain there was no one who was more execrated and admired, more feared and loved, than the young preacher from the West. His practical sense and his catholic spirit, no less than his passionate earnestness and his dramatic genius, MR. BEECHER'S POSITION. 145 made Mm a power among men of power. He believed with the Abolitionists that slavery was a crime against humanity and against Grod, but he never joined them in personal execration of the slaveholder. He be- lieved with them that it was the sacred and solemn duty of the IS'orth to rid itself of all responsibility for slavery, but he repudiated the Garrisonian charac- terization of the Constitution as a " compact with hell," and regarded it with respect, as an instrument possessed with the spirit of liberty, but not with a superstitious reverence, as a divinely inspired oracle which common hands could not improve. In the pul- pit, on the platform, in lectures and addresses, all over the North he labored to arouse the public conscience, to stir the public feeling, to shake off the public lethargy. One of the most dramatic acts of his life belongs to this epoch. It was in the old Broadway Tabernacle, which was packed from floor to ceiling. The chains with which John Brown had been bound had been brought into the meeting, and lay upon the table on the platform. The orator kindled as he spoke ; the chains before him became a symbol of the chains that bound the wrists of three million slaves, and in an out- burst of passion he seized upon them, cast them upon the floor, and ground them beneath his heel as though he would then and there grind the whole power of slavery to dust beneath his feet. The effect was inde- scribable. The whole audience cheered till the roof rang, and all hearts took a new vow to march on till every chain should be broken and every slave set free. A book might be filled with illustrative incidents of the oratory of that period ; and of all its orators — 146 HENRY WARD BEECHER. Seward, Chase, Sumner, Phillips, Garrison, Parker, Thompson, Bacon — none in immediate power over an audience equalled Mr. Beecher. One such instance must serve here. It occurred a little over a year after Mr. Beecher had occupied the pulpit of Plymouth Church. He was called to a meeting held at the Broadway Tabernacle in New York City, October 23d, 1848. The people were assembled to raise a ran- som for two suffering slave-girls, and the occasion was one that called for an orator's most earnest efforts and the most hearty co-operation of individuals. Mr. Beecher has said of late, looking back to that time, that " he considered it one of the most memorable evenings of his life." A private letter of that date from one who was present gives the following simple but graphic picture of the scene. For it we are indebted to a friend. It has not, we believe, before been published : October 24, 1848. Last evening we went over to a great meeting held in the Broad- way Tabernacle for the purpose of raising two thousand dollars for the redemption of the Edmistons, two poor slave-girls, in whose case Mr, Beecher was much interested. The speakers announced were Mr. H. W. Beecher, Dr. Dowling, and Alvan Stewart, Esq. As Stewart did not make his appearance, the two reverends had it all to themselves. The immense house was crowded. The building, you know, is an amphitheatre, with the speaker's platform on the floor, or but slightly raised. We sat in the singers' seats, directly behind the speakers and facing the great congregation. Such a sight is in itself alone very impressive, and full of solemnity. It has a judg- ment-day effect upon the imagination. I need not tell you, I am sure, that Mr. Beecher spoke well, and with great power, and that as he poured forth the breath- ing thoughts and burning words of indignation, scorn, contempt, SLAVE GIRLS PURCHASED. 147 and pity, his audience seemed completely in his hands, and the breathless silence, the flowing tear, or the thunder of applause gave unmistakable evidence that he made himself understood and felt. He seemed to enjoy the hurrahs ! " I thank you for that noise !" said he, after a tremendous burst ; " it cheers me, and makes me feel that I am among inen — men and brethren.'''' As you may suppose, he got it again. In speaking of the old man, the father of these girls, he stopped sliort. ^ '■The father P^ he exclaimed. " Do goods and chattels have fathers ?" Do slaves have datighters ? The father ! would to God Will Shakespeare was living ! He might make a drama out of that sentence more touching than any he ever wrote !" After Dr. Dowling's address, which was very good, and in some respects letter than Mr. Beecher's, a collec- tion was taken up, and reported as $600. This was not satisfactory to ministers or people. A voice from the crowd, "Take up an- other !" Another collection was made, but still several hundreds were lacking. Mr. S. B. Chittenden gave his name for another |50 ; his brother, Henry Chittenden, another $50 ; H. C. Bowen, $100 ; Chittenden, another $25 ; and so the ball rolled on, the ministers on the platform making short and appropriate remarks, the audience calling out, " How much is wanting now ?" Mr. Beecher seemed to be on his feet and talking all the time, popping about like a box of fireworks accidentally ignited, and going off in all shapes and directions — a rocket here with falling stars, a fiery wheel there, and before you could think, a nest of ser- pents right in your teeth. During one of the pauses Mr. Beecher sprang up, exclaiming, *' Where is Captain Knight, of the New World ? I thought I saw him!" '■'■Here!'''' cried a manly voice from the gallery; " he has contributed twice, and if you will come on board the ship in the morning he will contribute again." A hearty burst of applause fol- lowed. " We want him on the platform," said Mr. Beecher. He came in a few moments, amid the cheering of the audience. Mr. B. urged him to speak, to which he seemed to demur, turning slightly from the people. " The Captain does not feel quite so bold here as on the deck of 148 HENRY WARD BEECHER. his ship, but he'll give us a good speech," said Mr. Beecher, patting "him on the shoulder, and gently turning hin\ toward the audience. As the Captain is a fine, handsome-looking fellow, well whiskered, and a head and shoulders taller than Mr. Beecher, the effect was irresistibly comic, and brought another round from the crowd. Captain Knight made a short speech, and without mentioning what he had given before, gave another fifty. When the whole sum was raised but fifty dollars, "Now," said Mr. Beecher, "I never did hurrah in a public meeting, but when this account is closed up, I will join in three of the loudest cheers that ever rang through this old building." " I'll take the balance," called out Mr. Studwell of Plymouth Church. And then there teas a mighty shout ! Hats were swung, handkerchiefs waved, mouths were on the very broad- est grin, and more ministers than Mr. Beecher joined in the row. Three cheers were given for Captain Knight, three more for Mr. Beecher, and then the people quieted down under the influence of one of those rapid transformations of his by which he instantly becomes the model Presbyterian minister. He made a few remarks upon the gratitude we owed to God, and proposed the singing of the Dox- ology as our universal expression, " Praise God from whom all blessings flow" was sung — not with unbounded applause, but with tender and tremendous effect. After a benediction, implored by Dr. Edward Beecher, the great multi- tude quietly dispersed, and the Edmiston sisters were no longer slaves, but free women. Since tlie war Mr. Beecher' s oratory has been called forth chiefly in his own pulpit and on the lecture plat- form. He has lectured extensively all over the North, and has made at least two expeditions into the South. It is stated on good authority that his beautiful home in Peekskill was built out of the proceeds of two years' lectures. He has generally met a warm welcome wherever he has gone, and there has rarely been any- thing to evoke that peculiar kind of oratorical power MR. BEECHER'S LECTURES. 149 which only a great occasion and intense opposition can evoke. But he has spoken everywhere to great audi- ences, easily filling the largest houses, and often leav- ing many outside unable to get in. He has discoursed on every uppermost topic in the public mind : Recon- struction of the South ; Education ; the Financial Question ; Free Trade ; the Chinese Question ; Tem- perance ; as well as upon all sorts of moral, social, and theological subjects. In these lecture tours he has travelled from St. John's to the Golden Gate, and from Montreal to Memphis. I believe he has never visited the Gulf States. He lectures at night and travels by day ; but often his engagements are such that he drives directly from the lecture platform to the sta- tion, where he may have to wait for an hour or two before his train arrives and he gets his sleeping-car. He sleeps, however, by day as easily as by night. Never an epicurean or self-indulgent eater, he is phi- losopher enough to eat what is set before him, asking no questions — a lesson which he learned probably in his itinerant ministries in his early experiences in the West ; at all events, he takes whatever accommoda- tions are provided for him, never grumbling. He rarely, however, consents to receive hospitality, though it is often extended to him. As with most successful speakers, the drain of social intercourse un- fits for the duties of the platform, upon which the lect- urer must go with mind undisturbed and undiverted by previous conversations. He always carries a bag full of books and papers ; always gets the morning papers as early as he can, but rarely spends a great deal of time over them. His mornings on the cars are 150 HENRY WARD BEECHER. spent with his itinerant library. " He generally has some dry old work on theology," says his lecture agent. " I have sometimes asked him, ' What are you reading that for ? ' To which he has replied, ' Well, I never can tell when any one may be going to pitch into me ; and then these old fellows come in very handy. I read it and lay it away in the garret where I can use it when I want it.' " He always carries his Bible with him ; is a continuous student of it ; often takes it out of his pocket to read a passage which he desires to quote in a friendly discussion, and he rarely fails to tarn to the desired passage with facility. He never delivers the same lecture twice in the same form ; rarely if ever uses notes. His introductions are often, his general divisions sometimes, and his illus- trations always more or less varied. Incidents that have occurred during the day, suggestions from the day's conversation, suggestions from the day's reading, are woven in, or are added to the train of thought, or even give it a new form and color. He never speaks to entertain, though he never speaks mthout enter- taining ; but I doubt whether he could make a speech without a definite and earnest moral purpose. I have sometimes heard him try — in speeches of reply to com- plimentary allusions on public occasions, or after- dinner gatherings, and never yet heard a success. He is not a good after-dinner speaker unless he takes a theme and aims at a result ; then sometimes his suc- cess is brilliant. Such was the case at the dinner to Herbert Spencer in New York in 1882. He was the last speaker of the evening. It was late ; the audience were already weary ; and the speeches up to that time THE HERBERT SPENCER DINNER. 151 liad been purely and coldly scientific, unrelieved by any elements of emotion, and, except in the casual remarks of the chairman and the single speech of Carl Schurz, unillumined by any wit or humor. Be- ginning with a play of humor as irresistible as it was spontaneous, Mr. Beecher secured the sympathy of his audience in the first few sentences. Irradiating his address throughout with it in the most unexpected places, he kept alive and alert the interest and atten- tion. Gradually, insensibly to them, perhaps insensi- bly to himself, he lifted his auditors above the cold, dry, intellectual light in which the meeting had been kept, into the warm and sunny atmosphere of spiritual and emotional life. When, as he drew toward the close, he appealed to the personal consciousness of his hearers to confirm Paul's testimony to the strife for- ever going on in all awakened souls between the lower animal and the higher spiritual nature, the responses of "That's so," like Amen in a Methodist meeting, came from different quarters of the room ; when, with a voice tremulous with emotion, he expressed his own personal sense of obligation to Mr. Spencer for intel- lectual and spiritual light and strength, conferred in the new vantage-ground given to theologic thought, the audience showed its sympathy by its breathless and almost solemn silence ; and when he had closed, with good wishes for their guest, phrased in the form of a prayer to " Him who holds the stars in his hands," the whole assembly rose to its feet, and with cheers and waving of handkerchiefs greeted both the orator and the guest. This is perhaps a digression ; yet it serves to empha- 10 152 HENRY WARD BEECHER. size the fact that an earnest and definite purpose is always necessary to evoke Mr. Beecher's power ; and he is never so powerful as when opposition makes that purpose most definite and most earnest. Of this his lect- ure course on the Pacific Coast affords another example. His views on the Chinese Question were pronounced and had been widely circulated. He had preached and lectured on it in the East, and his utterances had of course preceded him. The Pacific papers were all opposed to him. But though, it is needless to say, he neither modified his views nor toned down his utter- ances, he lectured to immense audiences. Engaged to deliver a course of four lectures in San Francisco, he delivered nine, the proceeds of the last one being $4200. His lectures were published verbatim, and it was afterward declared that he had done more than any one had ever done to check and modify the public sentiment against the Chinese, which race prejudice and political interest had done so much to inflame, and religion had unfortunately done so little to allay. The most striking illustration, however, of this effect of opposition to rouse into full play all Mr. Beecher's powers, is afforded by his experiences in Richmond, Virginia, where he went to lecture in Jan- uary, 1877. Mr. Pond, his lecture agent, was with Mm, and thus tells the story of his experience and Ms victory : /-■ In all the five hundred lectures which I have heard from Mr. Beecher — and I have travelled with him over 200,000 miles — there was no one so remarkable as that delivered in Richmond. I had sold his lecture for $500 to a man by the name of Powell, who owned IN RICHMOND, VIRGINIA. 155 the theatre. "We went to Washington January 23d, 1877, and I was telegraphed by him that we must not come, as Mr. Beecher would not be allowed to speak in Richmond. I said nothing to Mr. Beecher about it, but telegraphed Powell that we should be there. As we arrived at Richmond in the morning, he came aboard the train and said to me, " It won't do for Mr. Beecher to speak here," and he showed me a four-page circular issued by a State official, the heading of which ran something like this : " Shall Beecher be allowed to speak in Richmond ? The Brother of Harriet Beecher Stowe, the Author of ' Uncle Tom's Cabin ! ' Henry "Ward Beecher, who sent the Sharps Rifles to Kansas ! Henry "Ward Beecher, who is famous for drawing the Bead, and Probably is as Liable to Draw a Bead on one of His Auditors as Any ! Henry Ward Beecher, who Helped to Dig the Graves of Mill- ions of our Best Sons of the South ! Henry Ward Beecher, who has been False to his Country, False to his Religion, and False to his God ! Shall this man be allowed to speak in Richmond ? ? ? " When we got into town the newsboys were selling anti-Beecher poetry and songs on the streets. We reached the hotel ; Mr, Beecher registered and left the room in the midst of general tittering and sneering. When he went into the dining-room, even the waiters tittered and sneered, and it was hard to get waited on. We were simply insulted in every way, but Mr. Beecher said nothing. I remember as we walked out of the dining-room he caught up a little golden-haired baby, when a lady rushed up, and snatching the child away ran off with it. Mr. Beecher went up to his room, while I went up to the theatre to see Powell. Affairs went quietly enough that day, and at night, when the lecture was to come off, we went up together to the theatre. The Board of Trade, the Tobacco Board, and the Legislature then in ses- sion had all by resolution agreed that none of their members would go. But when it came time to open the doors, as every man knew his fellow was not going, hs went, and as a consequence the Gov- ernor was there, and all the legislators, and they were having quite a laugh at each other's expense. The house was filled with men, and they were a noisy lot ; but Mr. Powell had secured a detail of thirty 156 HENRY WARD BEECHER. policemen to insure quiet. After I entered the stage-door — there were five or six policemen to keep the crowd back — I heard them making a great noise in front, and Powell came to me and said, " Don't you introduce him. You'll be egged as sure as you go out there." Mr. Beecher knew that it was to be a wild meeting, but at last said to me, " Well, I'm ready," and together we went out and took seats on the stage. As we sat down, the vast crowd of men and the few ladies in the gallery commenced to applaud, and some turbulent characters gave a regular rebel yell. I rose at last and introduced Mr. Beecher, merely saying that there was no act of my life that gave me such pleasure as introducing so great and good a man as Henry Ward Beecher. I sat down, and they went at it again. We speak of a man's rising to an emergency. He stood up there, in his old way, and let them yell until they got tired. He was to lecture on Ha7'd Times, and his first words were that there was a law of God, a com- mon and natural law, that brains and money controlled the universe. He said, " This law cannot be changed even by the big Virginia Legislature, which opens with prayer and closes with a benedic- tion." As the legislators were all there in a body, the laugh went around. It was not five minutes before the house was clapping. Mr. Beecher talked two hours and a half to them, and of all the speeches that I ever heard that was the best one. He said, first, he would eulogize Virginia and the bravery of the men of the South, and then he would tell them just what they did that was wrong. In his peroration he eulogized Virginia as a commonwealth ; she who had bred her sons for Presidents ; how great she was, etc., etc. ; and got them all perfectly wrought up, and then he continued : " But what a change when she came to breeding her sons for the market ! " Then he would draw that terrible picture of slavery and its effects, and they had to sit quietly and take it all. After the lecture we left the theatre quickly, got into a carriage and went down to the hotel. Then, once in his room, Mr. Beecher sat back in his chair and laughed, as much as to say, " We have captured Richmond, haven't we ?" Then came a knock at the door, and as it opened, there in the hall stood a crowd of these gentlemen ; they walked IN MR. MOODY'S CHURCH. 157 right in, and the spokesman said, " We want to thank you for this lecture, Mr. Beecher. This is the Hon. , and this is the Hon. , and Lieutenant-Governor ," and so on, introducing everybody ; and " We want you to lecture here to-morrow night for us. Why, this is good enough for our wives to hear." Mr. Beecher stood up, and said, " Gentlemen, I am a piece of artillery here that Mr. Pond pulls around and touches off when he wants to." At this they showed hundred-dollar bills, and offered anything if he would only lecture again, but as he was booked for Washington the next night it was out of the question, and he had to refuse. They came in crowds the next morning at seven o'clock to see him off. ^ Mr. Beecher' s lecture-tours are generally so arranged as to enable Mm to get to Ms home in time for his Sabbath services ; indeed he is rarely absent from his Friday evening meeting, often travelling night and day to reach it. But when he is absent he is always ready to preach on the Sabbath, and no consideration of the possible effect of such a course in cheapening the tickets to his lecture on Monday night has the slight- est influence on him. It is rare, however, that he preaches when away from home more than one sermon on the Sabbath. He is a believer in the one-sermon theory, holding that it is enough for the hearer and quite enough for the preacher. It is hardly necessary to add that he always has more invitations than he can accept, and more auditors than he can address. One of the most notable of these preaching occasions was that at Mr. Moody' s church in Chicago, in the winter, I think it was, of 1878-79. A friend who was with Mm says : "I rose early to go to the church, and as we started out from the hotel noticed people hurrying up from every quarter, though it was nearly or quite a mile to the church. As to reaching the church itself, 158 HENRY WARD BEECHER. that was an impossibility ; one could not get within a block of it. Street preachers were scattered about ad- dressing the crowd, which was estimated to number not less than fifty thousand. The sermon itself is de- scribed by some who heard it as worthy of such an occasion." An analysis of some of Mr. Beecher's elements of power as a preacher has already been given in a pre- ceding chapter. The same characteristics of thought, of imagination, of common-sense, of sympathy, of hu- mor, mark him as a lecturer and an orator ; though the public platform allows a somewhat greater freedom of action, an unlimited range of topic, and a greater opportunity for a display of eloquence or wit than is ordinarily afforded in the pulpit. An analysis of one is in most respects an analysis of the other. The same instruments of power are wielded in both in- stances, though with a somewhat different spirit, and for different ends. The spontaneity of thought, the soundness of judgment, the common-sense, the deep sympathy, the responsiveness of feeling, which char- acterize his preaching also mark his oratory. To these traits Dr. Storrs adds, in his address at the silver wedding : " His wonderful animal vigor ; his fulness of bodily power ; his voice, which can thunder and whisper alike ; his sympathy with nature, which is so intimate and confidential that she tells him all her secrets, and supplies him with continual images ; and, above all, put as the crown upon the whole, that enthusiasm for Christ to which he has himself referred this evening, and which has certainly been the animating i^ower in ELEMENTS OF POWER. 159 Ms ministry — the impression upon Ms soul that he, having seen the glory of the Son of God, has been set here to reflect that glory upon others ; to inspire their minds with it ; to touch their hearts with it ; to kindle their souls with it, and so to prepare them for the heavenly realm— put all these together, and you have some of the elements of power in this great Preacher — not all of them, but some, snatched hurriedly from the great treasure-house. There you have a few, at any rate, of the traits and forces of him whose power has chained you, and quickened and blessed you, dur- ing all these years." * -it * * * * "Then, when you unite with these other things of which I have spoken, as elements of his power, a some- what vehement and combative nature, that always gets quickened and fired by opposition, as you have found, and that never is so self-possessed, so serene, and so victorious, as when the clamor is loudest around him and the fight is fiercest — and if you add very fixed and positive ideas on all the great ethical, social, and public questions of the time — there you have the champion Reform-fighter of the last twenty-five years. I never saw a man that it was more dangerous, on the whole, to arouse by opposing him — a thing which, therefore, I never do. " ****** "Well, when Mr. Beecher was in England, they made volcanoes around him, on no small scale, at Liverpool, at Manchester, and the other places. But that fluent thought within, and that fluent eloquence on his lips, put out the volcanoes ; or, if they did not 160 HENRY WARD BEECHER. put tliem ont, they made the fire shoot the other way,, till the ground became too hot for the English Govern- ment to stand on, if it would permit its evident sym- pathy for the Southern Confederacy to be formulated into law." It is thus that a brother preacher, himself an orator, has characterized Mr, Beecher's oratory, although he confesses himself no more able to do so than is a man to describe Niagara having never seen it. These traits are but a few that have conspired in making him one of the greatest of modern orators. "His power," to close the chapter with another extract from the same address, "comes from many sources. It is like a rushing royal river which has its birthplace in a thousand springs. It is like a magnificent oak, which has its grand uplift of trunk and stem, and its vast sweep of branches, by reason of the multitudinous roots which strike down deep, and spread through the soil in every direction. These supply the mighty timbers for the battle ships and the building !" CHAPTER VIII. MR. BEECHER IN ENGLAND DURING THE CIVIL WAR. It is not easy to get " reminiscences" out of Mr. Beecher. He rarely talks of himself, even to his intimate friends ; and he is far more interested in pres- ent and future questions than in the problems of the past already solved. But he had at various times promised good-naturedly to different personal friends, that he v^ould give them an account of his English experiences. One evening he yielded to their com- bined pertinacity, and to a group of twenty or so in his parlors he gave the long-promised narrative. One of his auditors contrived to have a short-hand reporter present for the benefit of a wider circle. This report he has put into my hands, and with some slight revis- ion it is printed here, without, however, any revision from Mr. Beecher. In 1863 I found myself pretty well worn out. I had been lecturing for the three years before the war came on. I was particularly busy in the year 1860, but grew more so after the election of Lincoln before his inau- guration, which was really one of the most critical periods in the history of the war, when there was a demand made all through the North by the Democratic party that we should throw up the election, and when there were a great many men that were very uncertain 162 HENRY WARD BEECHER. whether we had better not do it, so that I preached Sunday night after Sunday night and went all over the North lecturing to sustain the courage of the people and to hold things up, as it were. Then came on the war, and you all remember that^ and the intense ■excitement of the times, and how the first three years were largely years of defeat. In the spring of 1863 I concluded that two or three months in Europe would give me more power to serve the public than if I stayed St home ; so with Dr. John Raymond and the Rev. Dr. Holme, now a Baptist clergyman in New York City, I •embarked and went to England. It has been often asked whether I was sent by the government. The government took no stock in me at that time. Seward was in the ascendancy. I had been pounding Lincoln in the early years of the war, and I don' t believe there was a man down there, unless it was Mr. Chase, who would have trusted me with anything. At any rate, I went on my own responsibility, and with no one behind me except my church. They told me they would pay my expenses and sent me off. When I reached England and saw what was the condi- tion of public feeling there, I refused to make any speech and declined all invitations. I would not go Tinder the roof of any man who was not a friend of the North in this struggle, and throughout the whole of my stay in England I refused to let any man pay one penny for me. I never would let any one pay my expenses on the road nor my hotel bills, nor would I go as guest to the house of any man, unless he had been forward to promote our cause. Everywhere my answer was, ' ' My church pays my expenses, and I can- ARRIVAL IN ENGLAND. 163 not afford to take any hospitality or money from the enemies of the North, and I won't take it." WeU, as I lay on my back on board the ship going over — I can scarcely get out of my berth at sea, and am only in tolerable comfort when I am lying on my back — I turned the matter over in my mind and said to myself : " I have no doubt whatever of the final success of this cause, and I am perfectly certain that slavery is going with it. I have been for at least twenty-five or thirty years studying the Constitution of the United States, the history of the debates, and laying up all manner of material for discussion on the subject of slavery, and now we have got so far along that this question, I suppose, is settled, and all this material must go to profit and loss. I never shall want to use it again ; so let it go." Whereas, in point of fact, all these accu- mulations and investigations were brought about by direct providence in an unforeseen way, as it were, to enable me to go through the campaign that I after- ward entered into in England. I reached England, at the Mersey, in a storm. A little tug-boat came off with Mr. Charles Duncan on board, and a committee from Manchester with a request to have me lecture there. I was of the color, I sup- pose, of a collier just out of the mine. I had been lying under the smoke-stack, and my old hat, that was white when I started, was now of a doubtful color. I was so thoroughly indignant at the state of England — at the course that had been pursued there — that I had made up my mind that I would neither preach, lecture, speak, nor do anything else of a public charac- ter. I had seen Dr. Campbell, who was a personal 164 HENRY WARD BEECHER. friend of mine and always had been an ardent one, and who, in anticipation of my coming, had said, " Mr. Beecher thinks he can twist this English public around his finger as easy as he does the Americans, but he will find he has a different set of men to deal with ;" he also put in here a very ungenerous paragraph that ' ' Mr. Beecher is a man who at a time when his coun- try is in the greatest distress finds it convenient to take a vacation and comes to Europe to enjoy himself." This remark and others of the same kind were soon abroad. I went right to Charlie Duncan's house in Liverpool, and afterward made with my companions a little tour in England, violating twice my determina- tion not to speak in England. This was at Glasgow and at London, and was before I went on the Conti- nent. I attended a temperance breakfast in Glasgow — I think it was possibly Edinburgh — under the pledge that nothing should be reported, and that what was said there should be considered simply as social inter- changes and should not go into the newspapers. But the next morning my speech was out in all the papers, was published all abroad, and was sent back to this country. The other exception I made was in London. The Congregational clergymen of London and vicinity were very urgent that I should meet them at a breakfast, and I at last consented. We had there, I should think, a hundred and fifty persons, and after the eating was o^er and some speeches had been made, I was called up and made a statement expressing my indignation at the position of the Congregational clergymen of England in view of this war. The key-note of it was ADDRESS BEFORE CONGREGATIONAL CLERGYMEN. 165 that they were the men who were seeking to know the signs of the times, and to have the interpretation of the feeling of the age, and that they, as a whole body, had gone wrong and had thrown their sympathy on the side virtually of slavery and against liberty.* I said to myself, "They will say, of course, that I am an enthusiast, and that this speech is to be taken with a good deal of allowance ; so that if I can clinch the point with a speech from a calm-minded man it will help the cause." Therefore, I said to the chairman that Dr. John Raymond, President of Yassar College, was with me and would add some views of his own. Dr. John Raymond was a man not easily excited, but when he did get kindled up ! I sat and looked at him in per- fect amazement. He went at them like a hundred earthquakes, with a whirlwind or two thrown in. It was a magnificent speech, of such towering indignation as I never heard before or since. Soon after I was visited by the Anti-Slavery Union — I think that is the name. There were in London, Liverpool, Manchester, and almost all the princijDal cities, an elect few who understood the conflict, and who took the side of the North and organized to attempt to change the public sentiment of England. They endeavored to persuade me to make some speeches, but I refused. I started from England, refusing to make any engagements or say anything iDublicly. I was in a towering indignation. Almost every man in England * Rev. Henry Allon, of London, ■who heard this speech, afterward said that it was the best speech that Mr. Beecher made in England. 166 HENRY WARD BEECHER. who rode in a first-class car was our enemy. Tlie great majority of professional men were our enemies. Almost all the Quakers were against us. All the Con- gregational ministers in England — not in Wales — were either indifferent or lukewarm, directly opposed. The government was our enemy. It was only the common people and mostly the people who had no vote that were on our side. Everywhere the atmosphere was adverse. In Manchester our American merchants and men sent out to buy were afraid, and knuckled down to the public feeling. The storm in the air was so por- tentous that they did not dare to undertake to resist it. JSTo man ever knows what his country is to him until he has gone abroad and heard it everywhere de- nounced and sneered at. I had ten men's wrath in me, and my own share is tolerably large, at the attitude assunied all around me against my country. We went on the continent, and I sunk everything out of sight, determined that I would forget the whole thing, and for two or three months I wandered through France, Germany, Switzerland, and Italy, and came around to Paris again. This was before the ocean cable was laid. While at the Grand Hotel at Paris, word came of the victory of Grant at Vicksburg. I got the news on Sunday morning. I went to church, but I walked in the air. I took a seat in our minister's pew — Mr. Dayton' s. His daughter, a young woman of twenty-two or twenty-three, and a young friend of about the same age were seated together, and after the preliminary services were over and the minister was giving some notices for the week, I turned to her and said, " Grant has taken Vicksburg I" She started up CAPTURE OF VICKSBURG. 167 and then she whispered to her friend, and says to me again, "Is it true ?" " Yes," said I, "it is certain." Then we rose up when the hymn had been given out. She stood by my side and began to sing, and as she- finished one line she broke into a flood of tears and down she sat, and down sat the other, and they just shook, they were so overwhelmed with feeling. 1 thought that was very good for Sunday morning ; but about noon George Jones, of the New York Times, came over from America, bringing the news of the other great victory at the same time — Gettysburg. Now Jones told me about it, and I was so elated that I called a cab and rode around to Dayton's house. He had gone to his room to take a siesta, and I got him up and told him of the second instalment of good news, and the whole family were clustered together to hear it. I made a short stay, and going downstairs, who should I meet but Jones himself, coming up to tell the news. I was very sorry to think I had fore- stalled him — was mortified, in fact, because it was his privilege to have given the news first, as I had received it from him myself ; but he had not been quick enough. In the Grand Hotel there was a great glass- covered court, and as I would stand at the landing and look down there would always be a group of Southerners in the left-hand corner. It had come to be a resort of theirs, and there were ever so many there. Up to this time when I had walked through I would be insulted in every way — by whistles and sneering re- marks, etc. — and they would tell the servants to carry messages to me, which I learned afterward the pro- prietor would not allow to be sent. As I went in this 168 HENRY WARD BEECHER day of the double victory there they sat, a dozen or fifteen of them. I had never taken any notice of them hitherto — not the least — but after I got this nev^s I ■walked in and strode right down in front of them with- out saying a word, bnt carrying my head high, I can tell you, and went upstairs to my room. I never saw one of them there afterward, and I was there myself several days. I came over to England again and was met in Lon- don by the same gentlemen who had urged me to make addresses. I said, " No ; I am going home in Septem- ber. I don't want to have anything to do with Eng- land." But their statement made my resolution give way and changed my programme entirely. It was this : " Mr. Beecher, we have been counted as the off- scouring, because we have taken up the part of the North. We have sacrificed ourselves in your behalf, and now if you go home and show us no favor or help, they will overwhelm us. They will say, ' Even your friends in America despise you,' and we shall be nowhere, and we think it is rather a hard return. Be- sides," said they, "there is a movement on foot that is going to be very disastrous, if it is not headed off." To my amazement I found that the unvoting English possessed great power in England ; a great deal more power, in fact, than if they had had a vote. The aris- tocracy and the government felt : " These men feel that they have no political privileges, and we mnst admin- ister with the strictest regard to their feelings or there will be a revolution." And they were all the time under the influence of that feeling. Parliament would at any time for three years have voted for the South AERANGING FOR THE ENGLISH SPEECHES. 169 against tlie North, if it had not been for the fear of these common people who did not vote. A plan, therefore, was laid to hold great public meetings dur- ing all that autumn and early winter among the labor- ing masses, to change their feeling, and if that atmos- pheric change could be brought about. Parliament would very soon have done what it w^as afraid to do, but wanted to do all the time — declare for the Southern Confederacy. The committee said, " If you can lecture for us you will head off this whole movement." Those considerations were such that I linally yielded. I consented at first to speak at Manchester ; and very soon it was a^Tanged that I was to speak at Liverpool also, and out of that grew an arrangement for Glasgow and Edinburgh, and then for London. There was a plan for Birmingham that failed. Dr. John Raymond could not stay and went home, and I was left alone ; I think I never was so lonesome and never suffered so much as I did for the week tliat I was in London before my tour began. I had been making the tour of Scotland, and came down to Man- chester just one or two days in advance of the appoint- ment. The two men that met me were John Escort and young Watts. His father was Sir Something Watts, and had the largest business house in Central England. He was a young man just recently married, and Escort was the very beau ideal of a sturdy Eng- lishman, with very few words, but plucky enough for a backer against the whole world They met me at the station, and I saw that there was something on their minds. Before I had walked with them twenty steps, Watts, I think it was, said, " Of course you see there is 11 170 HENRY WARD BEECHEK. . a great deal of excitement here. " The streets were all placarded in blood-red letters, and my friends were very silent and seemed to be looking at me to see if I would flinch. I always feel happy when I hear of a, storm, and I looked at them and said, " Well, are you going to back down ?" '' No," said they, " we didn't know how you would feel." " Well," said I, " you'll find out how I am going to feel. I'm going to be heard, and if not now I'm going to be by-and-by. I won't leave England until I have been heard !" You never saw two fellows' faces clear off so. They looked happy. I went to my hotel, and when the day came on which I was to make my first speech, I struck out the notes of my speech in the morning ; and then came up a kind of horror — I don' t know whether I can do any- thing with an English audience — I have never had any experience with an English audience. My American ways, which are all well enough with Americans, may utterly fail here, and a failure in the cause of my country now and here is horrible beyond conception to me ! I think I never went through such a struggle of darkness and suffering iii all my life as I did that afternoon. It was about the going down of the sun that God brought me to that state in which I said, '' Thy will be done. I am willing to be annihilated, I am willing to fail if the Lord wants me to." I gave it all up into the hands of Gf-od, and rose up in a state of peace and of serenity simply unspeakable, and when the coach came to take me down to Manchester Hall I felt no disturbance nor dreamed of anything but success. SPEECH AT MANCHESTER. 171 We reached the hall. The crowd was already begin- ning to be tumultuous, and I recollect thinking to myself as I stood there looking at them, " I will control you ! I came here for victory and I will have it, by the help of God !" Well, I was introduced, and I must confess that the things that I had done and suffered in my own country, according to what the chairman who introduced me said, amazed me. The speaker was very English on the subject, and I learned that I be- longed to an heroic band, and all that sort of thing, with abolitionism mixed in, and so on. By the way, I think it was there that I was introduced as the Rev. Henry Ward Beecher Stowe. But as soon as I began to speak the great audience began to show its teeth, and I had not gone on fifteen minutes before an un- paralleled scene of confusion and interruption occurred. No American that has not seen an English mob can form any conception of one. I have seen all sorts of camp-meetings and experienced all kinds of public speaking on the stump ; I have seen the most disturbed meetings in New York City, and they were all of them as twilight to midnight compared with an Eng- lish hostile audience. For in England the meeting does not belong to the parties that call it, but to who- ever chooses to go, and if they can take it out of your hands it is considered fair play. This meeting had a very large multitude of men in it who came there for the purpose of destroying the meeting and carrying it the other way when it came to the vote. I took the measure of the audience and said to my- self, " About one fourth of this audience are opposed to me, and about one fourth will be rather in sympa- 173 HENRY WARD BEECHER. thy, and my business now is not to appeal to that por- tion that is opposed to me nor to those that are already on my side, but to bring over the middle section." How to do this was a problem. The question was, who could hold out longest. There were five or six storm centres, boiling and whirling at the same time ; here some one pounding on a group with his umbrella and shouting, ' ' Sit down there ;' ' over yonder a row between two or three combatants ; somewhere else a group all yelling together at the top of their voice. It was like talking to a storm at sea. But there were the news- paper reporters just in front, and I said to them, " Now, gentlemen, be kind enough to take down what I say. It will be in sections, but I will have it connect- ed by-and-by." I threw my notes away, and entered on a discussion of the value of freedom as opposed to slavery in the manufacturing interest, arguing that freedom everywhere increases a man's necessities, and what he needs he buys, and that it was, therefore, to the interest of the manufacturing community to stand by the side of labor through the country. I never was more self-possessed and never in more perfect good temper, and I never was more determined that my hearers should feel the curb before I got through with them. The uproar would come in on this side and on that, and they would put insulting questions and make all sorts of calls to me, and I would wait until the noise had subsided, and then get in about five minutes of talk. The reporters would get that down and then up would come another noise. Occasionally I would see things that amused me and would laugh outright, and the crowd would stop to see what I was laughing at. SPEECH AT MANCHESTER. 173 Then I would sail in again witli a sentence or two. A good many times the crowd threw up questions which I caught at and answered back. I may as well put in here one thing that amused me hugely. There were baize doors that opened both ways into side-alleys, and there was a huge, burly Englishman standing right in front of one of those doors and roaring like a bull of Bashan ; one of the policemen swung his elbow around and hit him in the belly and knocked him through the doorway, so that the last i)art of the bawl was outside in the alley- way ; it struck me so ludicrously to think how the fellow must have looked when he found him- self " hollering" outside that I could not refrain from laughing outright. The audience immediately stopped its uproars, wondering what I was laughing at, and that gave me another chance and I caught it. So we kept on for about an hour and a half before they got so far calmed down that I could go on peaceably with my sfjeech. They liked the pluck. Englishmen like a man that can stand on his feet and give and take ; and so for the last hour I had pretty clear sailing. The next morning every great paper in England had the whole speech down. I think it was the design of the men there to break me down on that first speech, by fau' means or foul, feeling that if they could do that it would be trumpeted all over the land. I said to them then and there, " Gentlemen, you may break me down now, but I have registered a vow that I will never return home until I have been heard in every county and principal town in the Kingdom of Great Britain. I am not going to be broken down nor put down. I am going to be heard, and my country shall 174 HENRY WARD BEECHER. .be vindicated. " Nobody knows better than I did what it is to feel that every interest that touches the heart of a Christian man and a patriotic man and a lover of liberty is being assailed wantonly, to stand between one nation and your own and to feel that you are in a situation in which your country rises or falls with you. And God was behind it all ; I felt it and I knew it, and when I got through and the vote was called off you would have thought it was a tropical thunder- storm that swept through that hall as the ayes were thundered, while the noes were an insignificant and contemptible minority. It had all gone on our side, and such enthusiasm I never saw. I think it was there that when I started to go down into the rooms below to get an exit, that a big, burly Englishman in the gallery wanted to shake hands with me, and I could not reach him, and he called out, " Shake my umbrella !" and he reached it over ; I shook it, and as I did so he shouted, " By Jock ! Nobody shall touch that umbrella again !" I went next to Glasgow. Glasgow was the headquar- ters of a shipping, building interest that was running our blockade. I gave liberty for questions everywhere, promising to answer any question that should be writ- ten and sent up, provided it was a proper one. They were to go into the hands of the presiding officer of the meeting, who would hand them to me and I would answer them. In Glasgow I discussed the question of the relation of slavery to workingmen the world over, carrying along with it the history of slavery in this country. The interruption at that meeting was very bad, but not at all equal to the tumult in Manchester ; SPEECH AT GLASGOW. 175 but after tliey were once stilled you would have thought we were in a revival. I demonstrated the unity of labor the world over, and discussed the rela- tions of the laboring man to government and to the aristocratic classes, showing the power of wealth, and how slavery had made labor disreputable, and how it was their bounden duty to make labor honorable every- where, and how it was a disgrace to them to be build- ing ships to put down the laborers of America, and to oast shame and contempt on themselves and on every man on earth that earned his living by the sweat of his brow. I told them they were driving nails into their own coffins. My interruptions lasted about an hour there, and the rest of the time was fair weather and smooth sailing. The questions that were put to me there were the shrewdest of any I encountered in England. They included constitutional questions as well as others. There was one question that was very significant and revealed the difficulties that honest men felt there. Q. " You say this war is a war in the interest of liberty?" A. "Yes." Q. "How, then, is it that your President, in writing to Mr. Greeley, says that if slavery permitted will maintain the Union, slavery will continue, and if the destruction of slavery is necessary to the maintenance of the Union, then it shall be de- stroyed. The Union is what we want." It threw me upon the necessity of proving the honor of the North, and showing its ethical difficulty in maintaining its obligations under the Constitution to all the States of the Union, not trespassing upon their guaranteed rights and prerogatives, and our moral relation to free- dom and to the workin":men of aU the world. 176 HENRY WARD BEECHER. From there I went to Edinburgh, where I discussed the effect uj)on literature and learning and institutions of learning and general intelligence of the presence of slavery, on the basis again of the history of slavery in America, and the existing state of things. I thought I had seen a crowd before I went there, but when I went through the lower hall and tried to get into the assembly-room the people were wedged in there so tight that you might just as well try to find a passage through the wall, and I was finally hoisted over their heads and passed on by friendly hands and up to the gallery, and down over the front of the gallery on to the x^latform, in order to get to the position where I was to speak. There I had less commotion than any- where else. There was a different audience there ; there was an educated and moral element in it. I went from there to Liverpool. If I supposed I had had a stormy time I found out my mistake when I got there. Liverpool was worse than all the rest put to- gether. My life was threatened, and I had had com- munications to the effect that I had better not venture there. The streets were placarded with the most scur- rilous and abusive cards, and I brought home some of them and they are in the Brooklyn Historical Society now.* It so haiopened, I believe, that the Congrega- tional Association of England and Wales was in session there, and pretty much all of the members were present on the jolatform. I suppose there were five hundred people on the platform behind me. There were men in the galleries and boxes who came armed, * See Appendix. SPEECH AT LIVERPOOL. 177 and some bold men on our side went up into those boxes and drew their bowie-knives and pistols and said to these young bloods, " The first man that fires here will rue it." I heard a good many narratives of that kind afterward, but knew nothing of it at the time. But of all confusions and turmoils and whirls I never saw the like. I got control of the meeting in about an hour and a half, and then I had a clear road the rest of the way. We carried the meeting, but it required a three hours' use of my voice at its utmost strength. I sometimes felt like a shipmaster attempt- ing to preach on board of a ship through a speaking- trumpet with a tornado on the sea and a mutiny among the men.* By this time my voice was pretty much all used up, and I had yet got to go to Exeter Hall in London. I went down to London, and by this time all London and all the clubs had seen my speeches, four of which had been fully rejDorted. It is said that a man who has made the conversation of a club over night and had a report of one speech in the London Times is famous. I had had four speeches, occui^ying three or five columns each, reported, and had been incessantly talked about in the clubs. So I was famous. When I first went to London I stopped at the " Golden Cross, " and they put me in a little back room right under the rafters. When I came back from the Continent there had been * Dr. Campbell, who was present, is reported to have said that he had never heard anything like it since the days of Daniel O'Connell ; that he had heard some of his best things, and he thought, on the whole, that not one of them equalled Mr. Beecher's effort at that time. 178 HENRY WARD BEECHER. considerable said, and they received me much more politely at the " Golden Cross," and put me in a thii'd- story front room. On the third visit I was received by the landlord and his servants in white aprons, and was bowed in and put in the second story, and had a front parlor and bedroom and everything beautiful. As the cards came in and gentlemen of distinction called I grew in the eyes of the servants every moment. " But Naman was a leper, though he stood the highest in his master's favor." I had had a successful career under difficulties, but had talked and strained my voice so much, that when I went to bed the night before the day I was to speak, I could not be heard aloud, and here I had come to London to close my course by speaking on the moral aspect of the question, and ap- pealing to the religious feeling of the English people. It was the climax — and my voice was gone ! I said, •*' Lord, Thou know^estthis. Let it be as Thou wilt." The next morning I woke up in bed, and as soon as I came to myself fairly, and thought about my voice, I didn't dare to speak for fear I should find I could not ; but by-and-by I sort of spoke, and then I would not say another word for fear I should lose it. Other- wise I was well and strong ; but the huskiness of my voice was such that when I did speak there was no elasticity. There seemed to be one little rift that I spoke through, and if I went above or below it I broke. Then came to me Dr. Waddington and Brother Tompkins, most excellent and devout men they were, and very faithful to our cause. They called on me, and seeing that I was in bonds they cheered me and said, " No matter, you have done your work. What SPEECH IN LONDON. ) 179 you have already done is sufficient, so it is no matter, if you only make your appearance and bow." They prayed with me and it lifted me right out of my de- spondency. So I plucked up courage and went to the hall that evening, and the streets of London were crowded. I could not get near the hall except by the aid of a policeman. And when I got around to the back door, I felt a woman throw her arms around me — I saw they were the arms of a woman, and that she had me in her arms — and when I went through the door she got through, too, and on turning around I found it was one of the members of my church. She had married and gone to London, and she was determined to hear that speech, and so took this way to accomplish an ap- parently impossible task. She grasped and held me until I had got her in. I suppose that is the way a great many sinners get into heaven finally. Well, I had less trouble and less tumult in London than any- where else."^ The battle had been fought, and my * A correspondent who was present gave an account of this Exeter Hall meeting, from which I condense some extracts, as pres^iting a picture of one of these famous meetings from a spectator's point of view. " When Mr. Beecher arose, there were five minutes of the most tre- mendous cheering I have ever witnessed, in the midst of which stood Mr. Beecher, calm as a rock in the midst of the surges. His voice was scarcely as sonorous and clear as it usually is. ' I expect to be hoarse,' he said ; ' and I am willing to be hoarse, if I can in any way assist to bring the mother and daughter heart to heart and hand together.' This senti- ment was received with great applause ; and Mr. Beecher's hoarseness was thus impressed to the service of his cause. But he so economized his voice, that every word was distinctly heard by the vast assembly. '180 HENRY WARD BEECHER. address there was a good deal more of a religious ad- dress tlian anywhere else, though I discussed in all these places very thoroughly the whole subject of slavery. But the way was broken and the storm had passed away, and the cause was triumphant. That which I had had in mind was effected. The idea of now raising lecturers, under Spence «fe Co., to go through England and turn the common people away from the North and toward the South was now aban- doned. The enthusiasm of the whole country ran strongly in the other dkection. And here, let me say that everywhere the weavers, the laborers, that were by the famine of cotton thrown out of employment and into the greatest distress, were stanch and true to . . . At one time when there was an interval of a few moments, arising from the effort of the hisses to triiimph over the cheers, Mr. Beecher, with a quiet smile, said, ' Friends, I thank you for this inter- ruption. It gives me a chance to rest. The hisses thereupon died away, and had no resurrection during the evening. . . . Again did Mr. Beecher level his lance ; it was at those who were making capital out of what they call ' American sympathy with the opjaressor of Poland.' Nothing could exceed the drollery with which, almost blush- ing, he presented the loving and jealous maiden who, when her suitor is not attentive, gets up a flirtation with some other man. ' America flirts with Russia, but has her eye on England.' The presence of war ships from Russia at New York has been the leading card of the Con- federates here in their game to win popular sympathy for the South. Consequently, when Mr. Beecher said, ' But it is said it is very un- worthy that America should be flirting with the oppressor of Poland,' there were violent shouts, 'Yes, yes.' Mr. Beecher waited until the cries had entirely subsided ; then leaning a little forward, he put on an indescribably simjile expression, and said mildly, 'I think so too. And now you know exactly how we felt when you flirted with Mason at the Lord Mayor's banquet.' I cannot attempt to describe the efifect of these TESTIMONIAL MEETINGS. 181 the right instincts of tlie laboring man. They never flinched, and our cause was successful in England by reason of the fidelity of the great, working, common people of England. Then came a series of breakfasts. They were all given by friendly men, and by men who were really in earnest to know all about the facts of the case. I had to discuss the questions of taxation, the issue of such an enormous quantity of greenbacks, and the ability and the willingness of our j^eople to pay ; and I had to go into finance a good deal, and what little knowledge I had came wonderfully handy. When you stand up at a breakfast -table and are questioned by shrewd men who do understand these things, the intellectual words on the throng. The people arose with a shout that began to be applause, but became a shout of laughter. ... In the heart of Mr. Beecher's oration was given a denunciation of slavery more power- ful than I have ever heard from his lips. He scourged and scourged it until it seemed to stand before us a hideous monster, bloated with human blood and writhing under his goads. He told, apropos of those who said, ' Why not let the South go?' the story of Fowell Buxton's seizing the mad dog by the neck and holding him at the risk of his life until help could come ; then asked what they would say if the man who, witnessing this, should have cried, 'Let him go. Let him go.' 'Shall we let this monster go ? ' he cried. ' No ! No ! No ! ' surged up from the crowd. At this moment a colored man, lately come here from the South, stood up in his seat, which was exactly in the centre of the building, and waved his hat. Other colored persons rose and waved hats and handkerchiefs, the audience cheering until the city outside seemed to be waked up, for we heard a storm of shouting voices outside. The crowd also caught sight of an old lady (white) in the gallery, who had a huge umbrella, which, having expanded to its utmost dimensions, she waved to and fro like a mighty balloon, which had a very comical effect indeed." 182 HENRF WARD BEECHER. ordeal is much severer than the physical exhaustion in the night speeches. There were five of these break- fasts in all ; by the time I was through I was very glad of it. It was now coming on toward November. They wanted to publish the speeches I had made, and I went down to Liverpool to Charlie Duncan's house, and the proof-sheets were sent to me there, and I worked on them to get them ready until about the middle of iN'ovember, I think, and then I took ship for home. Now, as there was no telegraph under the sea, and there had been no time for me to hear anything about my speeches, and as I never had been treated with very great luxury in the debates of the slavery ques- tion and the war, but had been set upon in the public press, I hadn't the slightest idea what the result of my labors in England would be. I had the consciousness that I had not reserved one single faculty nor one single particle of strength there. I had worked for my country, God himself being witness, with the con- centrated essence of my very being. I expected to die. I did not believe I should get through it. I thought at times I should, certainly break a blood-ves- sel or have apoplexy. I did not care. I was as willing to die as ever I was, when hungry or thirsty, to take refreshment, if I might die for my country. Nobody knows what his country is until he is an exile from it and sees it in peril and obloquy. I was sick all the way home. My passage was seventeen days from Liverpool to New York. It was fifteen days to Halifax, and during that time I was never off my back after leaving Queenstown until we entered the Halifax Bay. It RETURN TO AMERICA. 185 was then nine or ten o' clock at night, and I was np on deck as soon as we got into smooth water, and was walking the deck when a man met me and said, " Is this Mr. Beecher ?" I started and said, " Yes." Said he, " I have a telegram from your wife." It seemed like a vision — that I had got where a telegram would reach me. I had touched American shores. You can- not imagine the ecstasy of the feeling. The telegram of my wife simply announced that she would come to meet me at New York. The ship in which I came over was the Asia. She was loaded down to her gun- wales with warlike stores and contraband goods that were to go to Bermuda, and was full of the bitterest of Southern men and partisans. It made no difference to me, because I was on my back in the cabin and cared nothing about it. From there to Boston was a pleasant trip — the only two days I was ever on the sea when I was not sea- sick. We were off Boston Harbor about seven in the evening, but the tide was not right, and we did not get in till about twelve o' clock. We reached our landing, but could not get into our slip until the next morning. I was on deck. I could not sleep. I saw the lights all over Boston, and there came again at midnight a man who turned out to be a Custom House officer. After watching me he said, " Is this Mr. Beecher ?" " Yes." '* Well, we are very glad to see you home safely. Some of your friends in Boston wrote down to us tell- ing us what we were to do, as if we didn't know how to treat a gentleman decently. It is a pity she has come in Saturday night. To-morrow is Sunday." *' Why ?" said I, " Because, if you had come in on a 184 HENRY WARD BEECHER. week day we were ready to give you a reception tliat would make things hum/' That was the first I had heard — I did not know whether the papers were down on me or not. I felt ashamed to ask him further ; but I said I had not heard anything from home, and was not aware how the news of my labors abroad had been received by my countrymen. " Well," said he, "you'll find out." So, with that assurance he chalked my baggage and got me on shore. I got into a hack and drove to the Parker House about four o' clock Sunday morning. I asked the clerk if I could have a room. "No," said he, "we are full." "I suppose I can have a bed in one of the parlors, can't I ?" said I. "No," said he, " all the parlors are fuU." *' Can't I bunk on the floor anywhere?" "No," again, "all full." He asked my name, and when I told him he said, " Why, there's a room here for youy Said I, " I think not, I just came from Eng- land." "There is," said he. "All right," said I, " let me have a lamp. I won't dispute you. H any one gets in after I once get in I shall think he is a smart fellow." I found out that the passengers' names were telegraphed from Halifax to Boston to Mr. Parker, who is a friend of mine, and he had said, " Mr. Beecher will be around in about so many days and will want a room," and he had set it apart for me. About eight o'clock in the morning bang ! came on my door. I said, "What do you want?" It was a committee who had come to see if I would lecture be- fore a social club. I got rid of them, and arrived home at last safe and sound. The speeches in England which Mr. Beecher has thus HIS WORK IN ENGLAND. 185 simply but graphically described may fairly be char- acterized as the greatest oratorical work of his life. It may well be doubted whether, if oratory is to be measured by Its actual results, there is in the history of eloquence recorded any greater oratorical triumph than that achieved in this brief campaign. The only parallel in public effect is that produced by Demos- thenes' orations against Philip. The orators of the American Revolution spoke to sympathizing audi- ences ; those of the anti-slavery campaign in this country produced far less immediate effect ; the ora- tions of the great orators in the British House of Commons — Chatham and Burke — rarely changed the vote of the House ; and though Lord Erskine won his victories over his Juries in spite of the threats of the judges and the influence of the Government, the issues which engaged his attention were not so grand, nor the circumstances so trying, nor the immediate results so far-reaching. It is not too much to say that Mr. Beecher, by giving a voice to the before silenced moral sentiment of the democracy of Great Britain, and by clarifying the question at issue from misunderstand- ings which were well-nigh universal and misrepresen- tations which were common, changed the public senti- ment, and so the political course of the nation, and secured and cemented an alliance between the mother country and our own land, which needs no treaties to give it expression, which has been gaining strength ever since, and which no demagogism on this side of the water and no ignorance and prejudice on that have been able to impair. 12 CHAPTER IX. PEESONAL TRAITS AND INCIDENTS. In person — but Mr. Beeclier's appearance is so well known to most American readers that a new full-length portrait would be superfluous here. Instead, I ^vill borrow one from the Rev. William M. Taylor, D.D., now pastor of the Broadway Tabernacle. * " The forehead is high rather than broad ; his cheeks bare ; his mouth compressed and firm, with humor lurking and almost laughing in the corners ; his collar turned over a la Byron, more perhaps for the comfort of his ears (as he is exceedingly short-necked) than for any love for that peculiar fashion. His voice is full of music, in which, by the way, he is a great proficient. His body is well developed, and his great maxim is to keep it in first-rate working order, for he considers health to be a Christian duty, and rightly deems it impossible for any man to do justice to his mental faculties without at the same time attending to his physical. His motions are quick and elastic, and Ms manners frank, cordial, and kind, such as to attract rather than repel the advances of others. With chil- dren he is an especial favorite ; they love to run up to him and offer him little bundles of flowers, of which * Scottish Eeview, October, 1859. His Four-Room House The Residence he built, painting it with his own hands. Mr. Beechers Residences in Indianapolis. PERSONAL CHARACTERISTICS. 18.9 they know him to be passionately fond, and they deem themselves more than rewarded by the hearty ' Thank you,' and the tender look of loving interest that accompanies his acceptance of their gift. Add to this that his benevolence is limited only by his means, and our readers will have a pretty good idea of his general character and personal appearance." Though twenty-two years have passed since this portrait was painted, there is little cause to change it ; the voice is as musical, and the body as well developed, and the presence as forceful, and the whole person at times as full of fire at sixty -nine as at forty-six. The only signs of age are the thin gray hair and the less quick and elastic motions, and even these, in the full current of impassioned oratory, are scarcely less quick and elastic. The mental alertness is no less. The humor still lurks and laughs in the corners of the mouth as of yore ; the eyes beam in kindliness or flash with fire ; the children find him as ready for a romp ; and though experience of half a century has taught him to be wary of the beggars that constantly beset his path, and that fill his mail with applications for aid which would exhaust the resources of a Vanderbilt, his sympathy for real distress is as deep as ever. Perhaps the most distinguishing characteristic of Mr. Beecher is his many-sidedness. There is no branch of knowledge which interests humanity which does not interest him. He is good authority on roses, trees — both for shade and fruit — precious stones, soaps, coffee, wall-papers, engravings, various schools of music, of which he is passionately fond, the best classic English authors, the applications of constitutional law to moral ^l&O HENRY WARD BEECHER. reform questions, physiology and hygiene, and I know- not what else. In all my communications with him, in five years of the eucyclopsedic work of an editor, I have never touched a subject of current interest of which he appeared to be ignorant. When he was un- .acquainted vdth the subject, he could suggest a direc- tion— a book or a living authority — to go to for infor- mation. This largeness of his nature, coupled with its quickness, its mobility, makes his serious moods seem an affectation or assumption to narrow or sluggish natures. He will pass instantly, by a transition inex- plicable to men of slow mental movement, from hilar- ity to reverence and from reverence back to hilarity again ; in a conversation about diamonds, he will flash on you a magnificent picture of the apocalyptic reve- lation of the jewelled walls of the New Jerusalem, and before his auditor has fully recovered his breath from the sudden flight, he is back upon the earth again, tell- ing some experience with a salesman at Tiffany's or Howard's. He is catholic, broad, of universal sympa- thies, of mercurial temperament, of instantaneous and lightning-like rapidity of mental action. Some of these traits af his personal character are illustrated in the incidents furnished by a number of personal friends, some hitherto untold, which will be found in the following chapters. ♦ One Sunday not long ago, when Mr. Beecher rose to give the notices, before the sermon, he turned over the papers in his hand, saying, " I was to have had a notice of a temperance meeting, but I can't find it here," turning inquiringly toward Mr. Halliday, his MISS FRANCES WILLARD'S LECTURE. 191 pastoral helper, who said he thought it was there somewhere. " Well, it does not seem to be anywhere that I have looked," replied Mr. Beecher, turning over the papers again, " but I can give the notice all the same." And he proceeded to give a somewhat lengthy and entertaining announcement of a lecture by Miss Frances E. Willard to be given on Monday evening in Plymouth Church, and commending her highly as a speaker. Once, by mistake, he spoke of the lecture as " to-night," when Mr. Halliday reminded him that it was Monday night. " To-night, did I say ?" Mr. Beecher said in a surprised tone. " No, you won't hear a woman speak to-night, you'll hear me." Having finished this notice, he began to give the others, when suddenly turning toward Mr. Halliday, and holding out a sheet of paper in his hand, he said, in a tone half deprecatory, half apologetic, *•' There ! I have had that notice in my hand all this time !" Miss Willard' s lecture was given as announced, and after she had finished, having been interrupted by fre- quent applause, he slowly ascended the platform, looking at her with evident approval, and moving his head with significant emphasis, he said, " And yet she can't vote P'' When the burst of applause which fol- lowed had subsided, he added, turning toward the audience, " And are you not ashamed of it ?" The following incident is considered very character- istic by the Brooklyn Clerical Union, who know him well. One Saturday evening in the Union they were discussing the future condition of the wicked, on which Mr. Beecher expressed his latest opinion. " But," 192 HENRY WARD BEECHER. said Dr. Edward Beecher, " you took an almost oppo- site view in a sermon six weeks ago." "Well," said Mr. Beecher, " if I said it I believed it then. I never say anything that I don't believe at the time." A. gentleman relates one or two characteristic re- marks of Mr. Beecher' s. " On one occasion," says he, " I tried to excuse myself to Mr. Beecher from some work in the Bethel, on the ground that I had all I could do. He replied, ' That is just the kind of men he wanted, as such men could and always would do a little more.' " The same gentleman, who is a lawyer, continues : "At another time I went to take Mr. Beecher' s affidavit on some matter I do not now recall. It was an oppressive day in summer, and it had been intensely hot through the week, and I therefore under- stood Mr. Beecher when, after he had sworn to the affidavit, he remarked, ' I've felt up at Peekskill frequently this week that it would be a relief to have a notary present.' I recall another incident con- nected with his speaking at Albion in 1856, in the Fremont campaign. He pictured an arena with Bu- chanan on his charger, the black knight of slavery, and Fremont, the white knight of freedom, all ready for the battle ; then suddenly stopping, said, ' But look, who is this little insignificant person creeping Tinder the fence. It's Millard Filmore.' An Epis- copal clergyman on the platform was so excited and the picture was so real that he jumped up, and looking over where Mr. Beecher pointed to the supposed man creeping under the fence, cried out, ' Where is he % where is he ?' " INCIDENTS. 193 A parishioner of Mr. Beecher^'s, a lady, relates the following incidents : I once said to Mr. Beecher, " Do try to carry some comfort to Mrs. , she is unhappy, and says she is in a dreadful twilight." He replied, " I will soon, but give her my love, and tell her not to mind about the twilight, if 'tis only Tnorning twilight." He came in one day, and caught up my baby, re- marking, ' ' The Bible does not say, ' A man shall not covet his neighbor's children.' " We were visiting among the sick poor, and upon, entering a low basement he stepped back, saying to me, " You pass on ; let the poor sufferer see a womarC s face first." At the close of the pew-renting in Plymouth Church, a friend said to him, " Mr. Beecher, I've been trying all the evening to get a seat, and haven't succeeded." To which Mr. Beecher replied, " Well, then, you must fulfil the apostolic injunction, having done all to stand.'''' My husband one evening in the prayer-meeting spoke upon the benefit he had derived from early in- struction in the Assembly's Catechism, and repeated several portions of it. As he closed, Mr. Beecher said, *' That's very well ; you may go up head." Mr. Beecher once described an old-fashioned sewing society. " You know," said he, " that a company of ladies get together, and they sew up their collars and 194 HENRY WARD BEECHER. they sew np their neighbors [accompanying the words by an illustration with his hand, as if sewing] — in fact it is a sort of a sew-ci2i\ cannibalism," There is one scene which occurred in his pulpit dur- ing the war that will never be forgotten by me, as it was the first time I had ever heard Mr. Beecher preach, and my young heart was filled as I listened to him. He had given out the closing hymn, when the little sliding door behind him was pushed aside and a paper handed to him. He read it, turned to the choir — the organ had already commenced the hymn — and said, " Stop ! turn to 'America' while I read this despatch." He then read with a voice full of emotion the despatch, which was from Secretary Stanton, proclaiming a great victory for the Union army under Sheridan. A thrill went through the audience, and 'America' was sung that day with the spirit and the understanding also. In 1864 the " Central Union Club of Brooklyn" en- gaged Miss Anna Dickinson to speak upon national affairs in the Brooklyn Academy of Music. After the Academy had been engaged, the directors sent word that they could not consent to have the building ojjened for Miss Dickinson to speak in. The facts were brought to the notice of Mr. Beecher, which so aroused his indignation that the following Sunday morning he called the attention of the people to the action of the managers of the Academy of Music in such language that it was but a short time before the Academy was opened to Miss Dickinson, and many other buildings throughout the country which pre- MR. BEECHER AND DR. LEONARD BACON. 195 viously had been considered too sacred for a woman to speak in, A gentleman once called at Mr. Beecher's house, very early in the morning, before the servant had swept the parlors. Mrs. Beecher came in first, and casually stopped to pick up a bit of thread from the carpet. Instantly, Mr. Beecher, who was following her, went all around the room, stooping here and there to pick up imaginary bits, and laughingly exclaimed, " Why don't we always pick up things lying around loose? No telling how much we might accumulate." A friend sends the following incidents. The first re- lates to an effort of one of his early teachers to impress upon his mind the distinction in the use of the definite and indefinite article. Said the teacher, " You can say a man, but you cannot say a men." " Oh, yes, I can," was Henry's quick response, " I say it very often, and my father says it at the end of all his prayers." The second occurred at the close of one of his famous lectures, delivered in the Lyman Beecher course, before the students of the Theological Class of Yale College in the winter of 1874. These lectures were greatly ad- mired by professors, clergymen, and students. At the close of one of these which was of marked interest to all present. Rev. Dr. Leonard Bacon came up to him, and laying his hand upon his shoulder, said, " Brother Beecher, I fear the devU whispered in your ear just now that this was a fine lecture." " Oh, no," quickly replied Mr. Beecher, '' he left that for you to do." 196 HENRY WARD BEECHER. A fellow-traveller with Mr. Beecher on the Hudson River Railroad between New York and Peekskill, remarks always how he goes through a crowd : He is the first off the train, first at the top of the Elevated Railroad stairs, first on thronged platform, ferry, etc. At his age, in the heat of midsummer, with his basket of green stuff on his arm (from '' the farm"), he is al- ways for the first place. A young man must hurry to keep up with his bulky, red-faced companion. It is not once, it is always, and hence characteristic. It shows the man. He complains of the heat, but de- spises it. He " wishes there was a thermometer about." "But it makes you hotter to consult it." '' No. I want a rational excuse for being so uncom- fortable." His travelling dress you know: the old duster blowing in the wind, carelessness as to his soil of travel, etc. In a trying day for a younger preacher, set upon by an unreasonable faction in his church, he said, " My boy, I am watching you. If you are of the true met- tle, a real man, this will only prove you." Grasping the young man's hand with a never-to-be-forgotten warmth, he continued, " Yes, this will be the making of you." He came through crowded rooms of a dis- tinguished assembly to say this, voluntarily. Once, meeting the same younger preacher, he asked, " How long have you been at it V (preaching). *' About ten years," was the reply. " A fair start ; Just a fair start, ten years." And he straightened him- self up, half wearily, half exultingly, as if the thoughts of his thrice ten years and their battles came over him like a flood. INCIDENTS IN THE PULPIT. 197 A member of Plymouth Church thus relates in- stances showing Mr. Beecher' s rhetorical i^ower : I remember one Sunday morning, during those troublous times when a certain enemy was threatening severest injury, Mr. Beecher read the account of Paul's shipwreck, and his being cast upon the island of Melita. He read the whole account in a thrilling manner, until he came to the story of the viper which fastened itself upon the hand of Paul, then, in reading the words, " He shook off the beast into the fire, and felt no harm,^'' he made one single gesture with his hand, as if he too would thus shake off the viper that was ready to sting him. Word or comment was not necessary. It was as if an electric thrill passed through the great congregation, and every one understood the unspoken comment. A well-known elocutionist was heard to say at the close of the service, that it was one of the finest things he ever listened to. " It was absolutely perfect," he said. I recall another occasion, when Mr. Beecher read at opening service the 23d chapter of Matthew. I never shall forget, though it is impossible to describe the effect he produced as he read that long list of woes Christ pronounced against the Pharisees. I seem now to hear his tone and emphasis of intense scorn as he read again and again the words, " Woe unto you, scribes and Pharisees, liyyocrites .^" In his voice and manner he seemed the personification of righteous wrath and denunciation. I shivered and grew nervous as I listened, and the whole congregation 198 HENRY WARD BEECHER. sat as if spellbound, I do not think he made a single comment until he had finished the 36th verse, then he said something like this : " These are the words of divine indignation against those vi^ho had trodden down and oppressed the weak and the poor, in the name of religion ; now listen to the words of divine love and compassion that pitied while it rebuked." And then his whole manner, expression of countenance, tone of voice, everything changed, as he read the remaining verses : " O Jerusalem ! Jerusalem !" etc. When he concluded, the tears were running down his own cheeks, and in all the house I think there were but very few dry eyes. Mr. Beecher's love of the beautiful is, in a general way, known and read of all men. The methods of its manifestation are not so generally understood. A few of his mercantile friends have glimpses of it, and very cheerfully contribute to its gratification. It need not be said that his enjoyment of the beautiful is unselfish — that it is increased by the sharing with others. A jeweller friend occasionally makes up a package of rare and precious stones, of exquisite colors and forms. These Mr. Beecher will carry to his own home or to the home of another. The family gather around the table — suitably covered for the purpose — and partake of a costless intellectual feast, the foundation for which is laid in values of hundreds of thousands of dollars. At another time a huge roll is landed at the door, and in due time the parlor and parlor furniture are covered with rugs, literally of all nations, the result of a forag- HIS LOVE OF PRECIOUS STONES. 199 ing expedition among dealers in sucli articles. Mr. Beecher has enjoyed the study and selection of these in the great warehouse, but now only the best of the great stock is brought where he can fairly revel in their beauty. No child could manifest more unaffected pleasure. He sits upon his knees ; lies upon the floor ; assumes all attitudes, known or unknown, whereby the light or shade can be varied or the contrasts of color made apparent. For hours the charm remains, and is finally broken only to be again renewed with beautiful objects of another kind. Upon the same subject another gentleman says : My personal intercourse with him has been confined prin- cipally to one subject with its kindred topics, namely, " precious stones." We have had a good many talks about them. It is my business, and I have various kinds for sale, and I really feel that he has often in- spired me with a deej)er love for them and a stronger desire to know more about them, especially when he says in his rather cutting way, " Of all the business men I come in contact with, it seems to me that jewellers know less about their business than any others.' ' Com- pared with him, perhaps, they do ; few have as strong a love for precious stones as he, and few have the time to devote to the study of them. Whenever I receive anything out of the ordinary line, my thoughts invari- ably turn to him, and I read up about it, and then show it to him, and often I find he knows all about it, and has some story to tell about one he has seen some- where. It is his habit to go into jewefry stores and lai)idaries' shops, in his lecture trips through the coun- 200 HENRY WARD BEECHER. try, seeking curiosities and desirous of finding some- thing better than he has already, for he always carries in his pocket some precious stones. I have met him on the ferryboats, when he would beckon to me to come and see a fine specimen of some stone he had Just secured, regardless of the gaze of the cabinf ul of people, and ap- parently entirely unconscious of the " scene" in which he was the central figure, eager only to show some- thing that would force me to admit was a little better than any I'd ever seen before, as well as to give me the pleasure of seeing the stone itself. He has often given utterance to beautiful thoughts as he has feasted his eyes on some stones that would, of course, sound strange coming from any one else, but if a salesman could in- dulge in similar flights of fancy and imagination, and make his customer see all as he does in the stones, he could make a fortune. His description of the stone called " cat's-eye"' I often quote to personal and mu- tual friends. He said he felt " as if there were a soul back of it looking out through the rays of light flash- ing over it, and in eyery way he looked at it, it seemed like a thing of life. " I remember once showing him a magnificent garnet, and we discussed various ways of mounting it, and I said it was handsome enough to be surrounded with diamonds, and he said (in substance), '' Oh, no ! it would never do to jDut diamonds with it, they would spoil it, they are too showy, A diamond seems to say, 'Here, look at me; don't mind those other stones,' and fairly draws the eyes toward it in spite of yourself. That garnet should have pearls around it ; the stone is of a positive color and can stand alone, and the setting should be of a contrasting INCIDENTS OF HIS PASTORATE. 201 beauty. Pearls are just the thing, for they have a peculiar beauty of their own, and at the same time harmonize with the garnet. Why, it's like a well- matched husband and wife. The garnet is larger, stronger, and of a positive character, and regal in color, and should have pearls as helpmeet. They are equally beautiful in their milder, softer way, and are in perfect harmony, both choice, yet neither predomi- nating, and make a perfect whole." A member of Mr. Beecher's church and a teacher in Plymouth Sabbath-school for many years, and one who is always on hand on Plymouth occasions, re- lates : Out of all the numerous reminiscences of Mr. Beecher in various lights, as man or minister, as lec- turer, thinker, personal friend or citizen, let me choose simply a few things that show his peculiarities as pas- tor, the very aspect in which he has not, in general, been generally well understood either outside in the Christian world nor even inside in our microcosm of Brooklyn itself. 1. He aims to avoid rather than to allay, to prevent rather than to cure. An instance of this happened when I was clerk of the Examining Committee. The examination of applicants for membership by him va- ries endlessly according to the age, the temperament, the replies, and whole personality of the individual candidates. He examines mainly on the vital points of personal relations of obedience, reverence, and love to the Lord Jesus as Saviour and guide of life. A candidate who was a man in middle life had given answers so very laconic, yes or no, that when Mr. 202 HENRY WARD BEECHER. Beecher, as usual, gave it to the committee to ask any other questions, and all else were silent, I asked, rather to cover the whole ground at once than any single point, " Have you ever been troubled, sir, by serious doubts concerning any of the fundamental doctrines of the Gospel ?" " None, sir," he answered, and his ex- amination then terminated. Mr. Beecher turned toward me, as I sat very near, and said, in clear but very low voice, inaudible except to me alone, ''Brother H , you may suspect an apple-tree is full of owls, but it is not worth while to throw a stone or club up into it to find out." 2. As pastor, he aims to make good Christians more than to train up theologians. At an annual pew-let- ting, I heard a member say, " Mr. Beecher, we hope you will preach a very sound gospel next year, be- cause some things you have lately said did not sound very orthodox to us New Englanders." With leisurely and tranquil composure, he replied, '^ Well, as for you, brother, you are very sure to hear quite as much gospel as you will live up to." His an- swer was geometrically perfect. 3. He measures the value. of men by their actual pow- er and fruitfulness. When Rev. J. E. Roy, D.D., first introduced me to him, when Roy and I were students in the Union Theological Seminary, Mr. Beecher asked, " Who is your Professor of Pastoral Theology ?" and when told " Rev. Thomas H. Skinner, D.D.," added : " That is the most important chair in a seminary, and the test whether the professor is a suitable man is whether he turns out good pastors. It is very much like fishing. A gentleman may read up on ichthy- INCIDENTS OF HIS PASTORATE. 203 ology and angling, and equip himself with the finest rod and hooks and flies, but not catch a half dozen trout all day, whereas a boy may come down to the brook barefoot, when the sun is only an hour high, with a plain hook, string, and pole from an alder-bush, and catch a basketful by dark. The Iwy is the real fisherman." He turned to others in the crowd that thronged around him in the old " Social Parlors," but his illustration had hooked us. See what Brother Roy has become. A volume might be written of the incidents in those *' Parlors," one of the best features of his earlier pas- torate. 4. As a pastor, Mr. Beecher is i^redominantly the ruling head and powerful heart of his church and con- gregation, as instinctively by his own nature he must be, and as, according to Congregational jDolity, he is delegated and appointed to lead. He sees all symptoms at a glance. He foresees swiftly the upshot of any movement, the motives of acti\^e men, the drift of an argument toward conduct. He is very adroit in pre- venting difiiculties by foresight, and, perhaps, even more so in dispersing or dissolving them when actually risen as thunder clouds in his sky. By warmth of love, by glowing sympathy of numbers, he rallies the majority to the right side, and trims the steamer to the storm. When the Congregational Council met in his church, to investigate the question of his innocence, he said to a group of us, and his face beamed with the triumphant certainty of the result which his intimate friends foresaw, " Yes, the best place for the dele- gates will be in the homes of our people. They will 13 204 HENRY WARD BEECHER. come resolved and determined not to be influenced, but the spirit of our people will melt them down, just as a hard winter apple resolves to defy the blazing fire when it has been put down to roast. Bless you ! the old fellow loses all his firmness, cooks clear through, and in a little while is roasted and sputtering and singing with Joy." In a short talk after prayer-meeting, to a handful of old members, he rather soliloquized than other- wise, in regard to himself, and the chief bent of his mind in contrast with Dr. . ' ' He reasons with the greatest power and most nat- urally from the past to the present : I reason forward. He points out very clearly the duties of the present day : I naturally look ahead to see and anticipate what topics of thought will fill men's minds in the future. It is natural and it is hereditary for each of us to think and work in his own way. He revels in historical studies, whereas I foresee from current events what way the tides / are settmg, and try to form opinions for myself and my people in advance, to be ready in time of need." / About ten years ago, as the Sabbath approached in whicli Plymouth Church was to take up a collection in behalf of the American Board of Commissioners for Foreign Missions, and I had spent some time in ob- taining pledges from prominent members as to the amount they would contribute to the cause, I called upon Mr. Beecher. It was late on Saturday evening. He had just arrived home from a weekly lecturing tour. I laid before him my errand. It was to ask him to give THE BETHEL. 205 US a sermon on tlie cause of missions the next morning. He answered, " Perhaps I will, and perhaps I will not. I have just reached home, have been absent all the week, lecturing every night. I am quite tired out. If I get rested and feel bright I will give you the sermon." The next morning he appeared in the pulpit as fresh and vigorous as ever. The opening reading of the Scriptures clearly indicated the subject on which his mind was engaged. He announced his text Acts 17 : 26 : " And hath made of one hloodall nations of men for to dwell on all the face of the earth. ' ' It was one of his happiest efforts, and the contribution was one of the largest ever made by Plymouth Church in behalf of that cause A gentleman relates an incident that occurred in the year of 1866 or '67, a year or so previous to the build- ing of the " Bethel" in Hicks street, Brooklyn, " The Bethel Mission of Plymouth Church." " I was present one Sabbath when Mr. Beecher was making an urgent appeal to his congregation to contrib- ute openly to the fund for building ; after urging it upon all his people, in his own good way, which he knows so well how to do, he said, ' Now, I want you to go down into your pockets, and go down deep ; I want you to put up a building which will be for mechanics, workingmen, and women, and the poorer classes of this ward (First Ward), where they can all worship together ' (this beside the Sunday-school). It struck a chord in my heart then, that I firmly believe vibrates still, and caused me to believe that one more at least " cared for my soul." 206 HENRY WARD BEECHER. In any account of Mr. Beecher' s life mention ought surely to be made of the stand he took for freedom of speech in 1850, during the excitement attending the passage of the compromise measures of that period. The tide of opposition to the an ti- slavery movement at that time was higher and more tempestuous than at any other period since the mobs of 1835. There was a deliberate determination on the part of men eminent in public station, and representing both the great political parties, to put that movement down, to overawe its champions, and consign its leaders to public infamy. Webster, in his seventh of March speech, had lent the weight of his influence to promote this design, and Professors Stuart and Woods at Andover, with a large following of other eminent clergymen, were struggling to reconcile the conscience of the North to the infamies of the Fugiti^sie Slave law then pending before Con- gress, and to persuade the people to stamp out the anti- slavery agitation as a fanatical and scarcely less than treasonable war upon the very life of the nation. Many who had taken part in that agitation were affrighted, and some had even gone over to the pro-slavery side. Timid men on every side trembled lest the heavens should fall and the country be left to destruction, un- less the people would consent to stop the discussion of slavery and obey the demands of the slave power. In this state of affairs the American Anti- Slavery Society held its anniversary at the Broadway Taber- nacle in New York, in May, 1850. This society had openly repudiated " the compromises of the Constitu- tion," and the Constitution itself on their account, and was therefore the object of special hostility and oppro- MR. BEECHER AND WENDELL PHILLIPS. 207 brium. Its meetings were invaded by a mob, led by a notorious political " rough," and turned into a scene of excitement dangerous to property and life. Public sentiment in New York winked at the mob as excusa- ble, if not patriotic, and it was a serious question whether the liberty of speech could be preserved. Mr. Beecher, though hostile to slavery, did not agree with Garrison and his associates in their attitude toward the Constitution and the Union, but thought them very unwise. He might, as others did, have made of this difference an excuse for coolly consenting to see their meetings broken up by violence. But he was sagacious enough to perceive that if freedom of speech were to be preserved, it must be preserved for all, and if it were to be lost for any it would be lost for all. He de- termined, therefore, to make a conspicuous protest against the New York mob. He was by no means sure that his own church and society, if consulted be- forehand, would support him. He took counsel of a few personal friends, wliom he could inspire with his own enthusiasm for liberty, and by a sort of moral coup d'etat forced open the doors of Plymouth Church for a speech by Wendell Phillij)s before those who would have prevented the measure, if possible, had time to rally. By Judicious effort the city officials were in- duced to lend their support to an effort to set Brook- lyn, in contrast with New York, as the home of free speech for all men on the slavery question. The meet- ing was held, and the lecture of Mr, Phillips delivered in peace, though a mob gathered in the street and howled around the doors. It would hardly be possible to exaggerate the value 208 HENRY WARD BEECHER. of this testimonial to the priceless right of free discus- sion at that solemn crisis. The pro-slavery party gnashed its teeth with rage, but the friends of freedom took fresh courage and hope. The action of Mr. Beecher gathers additional lustre when contrasted with that of another clergyman who took pains to persuade the proprietors of the Broadway Tabernacle to shut its doors thereafter against the American Anti-Slavery Society, thus compelling it to hold its anniversary for two successive years in the interior of the State. Mr. Beecher, however, had the privilege of welcoming the society to New York again in 1853. Speaking of sounds, Mr. Beecher said, "It is curi- ous to note the elective power of the ear, how it will search out and choose the sound it wants to hear amid a multitude of others. The other day I was in that Babel, the Gold Room. I sat by the secretary ; and amid all the clamorous shouting and hallooing of the frantic brokers, when I could distinguish nothing but a general din, he quietly noted and set down the bids, the offers, the sales, as they occurred. " In a room full of chatting women, if one of them has a child upstairs and it whimj)ers, how quick she will catch the sound, separate and know it from all the clatter about her, and go to the child ! " And just so it is in all hearing ; we are continually training our ears to select and take note of special things. How you know the creak of every door and the peculiar snap of every lock in the house ! Every friend's footstep is characteristic to us of his coming and of his person. We insensibly train ourselves to HIS SUSCEPTIBILITY TO SOUND. 209 Tiear, and just as truly we train ourselves not to hear. I am so used to my little French clock at my bedside, that strikes the hours and quarters, that I never notice it. And sometimes when I have wanted to know what time it was and waited patiently for the next quarter, I have known myself to lie, listening at first, but pretty soon getting into a train of thought and hearing noth- ing of my busy little clock for a whole hour with its four quarter- strikings. " For the matter of that, though, I have sometimes been so lulled to thoughtfulness by the sound of my own voice that I forget that I am reading. Last Sun- day, for instance, I had been reading away, nearly a whole chapter of the Bible, in church, and suddenly started into consciousness of it, having been at the same time led off into an intense study of my sermon that was to come. I was scared. I asked myself, ' Why — what — have I really been reading, and going on. all right 1 ' I looked at the congregation, but they were serene enough, and my machine had evidently "been going on straight all the while ; so, with a gulp of relief, I finished my chapter. " Sounds have a. distinct physical effect upon me. Music always affects me very strongly. At first I list- en to it ; but soon it lulls my outward senses, and I begin to have all manner of imaginations and fancies teeming in my brain. I forget the music and only recognize the effect it has had upon me after it has stopped." When Mr. Beecher was about to begin the first of his three years of Yale Lectures on Preaching (on the 210 HENRY WARD BEECHER. Sage foundation for the " Lyman Beeclier Lecture- sMp," in the Yale Theological School), it had been arranged to have Mr. EUinwood report them for The OfiHstian Union and for book publication. They were generally expected to be important and interesting, but many wondered how he would acquit himself in so unaccustomed a position, as they were to be given, not only before the whole body of theological students, but before the theological faculty as well (and, as it turned out, not only these but the collegiate faculty also was largely rejDresented, and the clergy of all the region round about). The day before he was to go up to New Haven to open the course I asked him, " Have you got your plan pretty well laid out ?"" " H'm — well — yes — no ; well, I know where the woods are that I'm going to hunt my game in, and that's about all I can expect yet awhile." He had a bad night, as it hai)pened, not feeling well ; took the 10 o'clock train next morning to New Haven ; went to his hotel, got his dinner, lay down and had a naj). About 2 o'clock he got up and began to shave, without having been able to get at any plan of the lecture to be delivered within an hour. Just as he had his face lathered and was beginning to strop his razor, the whole thing came out of the clouds and dawned on him. He dropped his razor, seized his pencil, and dashed off the memoranda for it, and afterward CQt himself badly, he said, thinking it out. That was the lecture on " What is Preaching?" of which the venerable Dr. Leonard Bacon said, " If I THE YALE LECTURES ON PREACHING. 211 had heard such talk as that before I began to preach it would have made a different preacher of me." The first series on '' The Personal Elements which Bear an Imj^ortant Relation to Preaching," and the second on ' ' The Social and Religious Machinery of the Church," were ujjon themes familiar and easy to him ; but the third, in which he had committed himself to treat of "Methods of Using Christian Doctrines," he rather dreaded — or rather, under all the circumstances, he felt it a somewhat difficult and critical task, and therefore he might have been expected to jirepare it somewhat more formally and completely than he had done the others. The day before he was to begin I asked him as be- fore, " Do you know pretty nearly the line of treat- ment you are to take ?" ' ' Yes, in a way. I know what I am going to aim at, but of course I don't get down to anything specific. I brood it, and ponder it, and dream over it, and pick up information about one point and another ; but if ever I tliink I see the plan opening up to me I don't dare to look at it or to put it down on paper. If I once write a thing out, it is almost impossible for me to kindle up to it again. I never dare, nowadays, to write a sermon during the week ; that always kills it ; I have to think around and about it, get it generally ready, and Xh^Vifuse it when the time comes." It was at the close of this third series that the entire theological faculty of Yale united in a letter to Mr. Beecher (March 19th, 1874), in the course of which they said : " Seldom, indeed, is the opportunity offered of listening to discourses or topics connected 212 HENRY WARD BEECHER. with the Christian ministry, which are at once so ear- nest, insiDiring, and instructive ;' ' and expressed a con- viction that " they must prove eminently quickening and permanently useful." It is worth while, perhaps, to have felt how utterly impossible it is to preserve in types or even afterward to define the impression which is given to most men merely by being in his presence. It is an ineffable personal influence, and must be felt to be entirely known. I had heard of Henry Ward Beecher from afar all my life, but thought of him as a fixed star afar off. My first impression of him was disappointing. I had expected to be awed with a kind of solemn fright in the presence of so great a man. But here was the most ordinary of mortals sitting in his arm-chair talk- ing as freely and simj)ly as a child. I said to myself, " Is this my great man f He joked at me about the wear and tear of light- haired nervous people, a text to suggest several characteristic remarks upon the relations of temperament to religion. I should have gone away in some wonder at such a man's reputation, if he had not been led out into a general talk about religious re- vivals. In this conversation the great imagination of the man began to excite my interest. It was during the winter of the revival at Plymouth Church, 1881-82. Mr. Beecher referred to the revival method in a very discriminating figure, or rather fiood of images if I may say, that seemed to spring out like scintillations of aurora lights. Com^Daring the work that was going on in his own church to that which he had witnessed in his boyhood and with other work which was progress- REVIVALS. 213 ing at anotlier Brooklyn cliurcli, lie said : " We try to win everybody. If they do not come now they will be better prepared to come next year. It is like feeding humming-birds. You get a few of them to eat out of your hand, but the others will keep growing tamer every year if you don't frighten them. We don't fire many guns, perhaps, though we might shoot a little more game for the time, but in the end we get all who would be likely to come at all, and don't frighten away the others, and the shy ones come, and they are the best ones." Speaking of the crude revival statements which he had often heard in his younger days, such as " that God is here now, and may not come this way again," he made this among other figures : Man is open to in- fluences on both sides of his nature. He opens up and he opens down. If he makes himself susceptible to the Divine Spirit the Spirit comes ; if he is susce^Dtible through his lower life to the other influences they come. If you jout out on your garden-plot red clover and honeysuckle and sweetbrier, the bees and honey birds flock there, but if you cover it with filth and carrion it will attract the crows and buzzards and jackals. The Holy Spirit doesn't come and go except as man himself changes, etc. These figures and images were as spontaneous as the flow of waters, and seemed to crowd out of themselves. They lead me to think that Mr. Beecher is Shakespea- rian and Oriental in his imagination. I know of no one, except John in the Apocalypse, Paul in his Epistles, and Shakespeare in Hamlet and the Temijest, who ex- hibits such habits of picture-thinking as Mr. Beecher. 214 HENRY WARD BEECHER. I saw him once at Ms best. It was not a burst of oratory nor any moment of triumphant power. It was a quiet moment ; it was as if the very air was weighted with the moisture of Divine tenderness. He was giv- ing the charge to a young man who was about to go to the far West as a missionary. There were not a hun- dred peoj)le present, unless the heavenly host was there. But the great jpreacher was stirred by the oc- casion to memories of his own early struggles in the West. His voice was low and at times broken, and the tears in his voice broke the fountains loose in all our eyes. I wish I could remember what he said. It was in substance a charge to love men and to love Christ, to look for sources of power only in heaven. I felt that it would have been happiness to go anywhere, to any work, followed by such words, rather by such a "presence^ for it was after all only such words perhaps as any man might have said. A phrase w^hich I once heard him coin has stayed by me ever since. He was expressing the office of the ministry. He said of Christ that he went about set- ting men right, making them whole. " That is our mission," he said, " we are men-menders.'''' He is very tender to the foolishnesses of young men. At our club on one occasion the question arose whether a lie was always wrong. " Christ is the stand- ard," said Mr. Beecher. " You can decide by asking if Christ would tell a lie. " I had the temerity to say that if it were not in- herently wrong he might be conceived of doing it. It was a thoughtless and shocking remark as I made it. I was ashamed of it, and at the conclusion of the HIS BRILLIANCY IN CONVERSATION. 215 meeting I asked Mr. Beecher if it were irreverent to speak so. " Oh, no !" he said, " you were serious and candid. It was well enough as you said it," and more to the same effect. In fact, he never has any small moods in which he holds any contem^Dt, even for the weakest of men. It seems to me that he has such an instinct at understanding a good motive that he never fails to know whether one is to be understood as erring or vicious. His greatness is even more apparent in conversations perhaps than in the j)ulpit. It has frequently occur- red that in the most natural manner possible a dozen men, all of them men far above ordinary calibre, would find themselves suspending the eating, the whole length of the table, as it were unconsciously, to listen to him. At our last meeting this occurred. Mr. Beecher was explaining his position upon the question of reason as an authority in religious matters concurrently with the Bible. I think the superiority of the man appeared here in the large reach of his views. " I hold," he said, " the catholic idea of inspkation in the church, not in the organism as they say, but whatever men — all good men — most enlightened by Christian and human education and by divine influences think to be true, at last and on the whole, that is true whether the Bible directly reveals it or not. It is a revelation, and God so is constantly revealing himself." Mr. Beecher went on thus at some length, and it was not until he stop- ped that any one happened to notice that the entire company had suspended conversation to listen. It was not respect for a great man's words, for he is as 216 HENRY WARD BEECHER. familiar and common in a company as the smallest man there ; it was a natural attraction. Mr. Beecher is quick at a joke or in repartee, and says the most crushing things without offence. Bro- ther N. relating his vacation experience, said that he had been kindly allowed a double-length vacation this year. "Was it on your account or their own?" quickly asked Mr. Beecher. You cannot describe the droUness of it, but it was sufficient to convulse the company. Dr. P., a noted temperance advocate, had just re- turned from the Continent. He was relating his ex- periences. It came to a ]Doint where he would natu- rally have alluded to the drinking habits of the Euro- peans. Dr. P. seemed to shy the topic, and Mr. Beecher, who saw a look of anxiety on the faces of the company, with an inexpressibly simple sort of manner asked cunningly : " How did you like the water on the Continent, Doc- tor ?' ' It was a long time before we recovered from the shock, which so upset Dr. P. that he did not rally for the evening. He seems to know everything. An old and well- known pedagogue in Brooklyn was relating at the club- table reminiscences of the early movements for the ed- ucation of women. Mr. Beecher was busily conversing nearly at the other end of the table. The pedagogue named Mrs. L. as the first leader in the movement, and related an incident or two. Mr. Beecher, who seemed as if he had not heard at all, finished his own conversation, and then turned down the table and said, " You are wrong about Mrs. L., Brother W. She HIS TENDERNESS. 217 was four years later than Miss A. The movement began — " and from that point he went on with a history, giving names, dates, incidents, and general facts, as if that had been his study for life. In all the many attempts to delineate the character and characteristics of Mr. Beecher, none have ever ad- equately touched upon his remarkable power of com- forting those who are bereaved. The tenderness and exquisite pathos of his words in the house of mourn- ing have drawn the hearts of hundreds toward him during the many years of his ministry. A wonderful insight has been given him into the very recesses of the sorrowing soul, and an equal gift of expression for those themselves dumb with anguish. His words of comfort and cheer (I cannot call them addresses) at funerals alone would fill a volume. I attended, thirty - three years since, the funeral of a babe eighteen months of age, whose mother had died in giving it birth, and left it to the care of a maiden aunt. Under the cir- cumstances it would not have been strange had the services been merely perfunctory. Instead of this, Mr. Beecher, to my surprise and grateful admiration, entered as by intuition into the feelings of this " friend who had borne the dear child in her heart, and cradled it in her bosom." His prayer for her was most tender. One expression I have never forgotten — that she might be strengthened " when sharp remem- brances shoot forth from unexpected places." AVas there ever a more incisive toach 1 It is like piercing between the joints and the marrow. Who that has been bereaved by death but understands it ? Who has 218 HENRY WARD BEECHER. ever before put the experience into words ? And the months and years that have passed since that first strong imi)ression was made upon me have added innu- merable expressions of similar strength and beauty. So delicate and tenuous are they, and so struck through with "the light that never was on sea or land," but that Cometh down from heaven, and are full of spiritual effluence, that I despair of giving even you my own impressions. At the funeral of one of his own grand- children about six years of age — while two other chil- dren were lying very ill, and the house seemed dark with sorrow — his first words were : " We are met to- gether to-day to rejoice that this dear child has ful- filled her mission, has delivered her message of glad- ness and hapi^iness in this household, and is so soon permitted to return to her Father s house in heaven," What followed I know not. The one bright comfort- ing thought of the little angel messenger, sent with sunshine on her brow, and in her winning ways bring- ing love and joy to earth, took possession of me, and the words " permitted to return" has never left me. Speaking of the death of a young man in whom he was much interested, Mr. Beecher said, " I cannot feel, I do not feel that he has left us. I stand expectant as one sometimes in summer stands waiting for a bird to begin its song again, and does not know that it has flown out of the tree. I was always patiently waiting for . He had never shown himself. Much as there was very striking about him, I always felt that we had only seen the edge of color in an unopened bud. There are many who are never so fair again as in youth. But his was a great nature that I felt would HIS VIEWS OF DEATH. 219 never get its full swing and power except in the broad movements of human life. He was made to be a man among men. But I am conscious that I have trans- ferred that dear and bright soul to heaven, not merely to heaven in the technical sense, but to everything toward which my thoughts move. Nature to me takes hue and color from every one who is gone, and the spirit seems to have mingled in such a sense with the universe, that it presents itself from every element. For Grod took him. He is with God, and where is God not?" 14 CHAPTER X. EEMINISCEISrCES BY EEV. S. B. HALLIDAY, PASTORAL HELPER OF PLYMOUTH CHURCH. MR. BEECHER IN BROOKLYN. As already mentioned, Mr. Beecher came to Brook- lyn from Indiana in the autumn of 1847. This city had then sixty thousand inhabitants, now it has more than half a million. Churches had then commenced rapidly to increase, so that Mr. Beecher had old and popular churches and ministers with whom to compete from the beginning. Dr. Richard S. Storrs, learned, eloquent, and popu- lar-, of the same denomination, was already thoroughly established within a few minutes' walk of the site chosen for the Plymouth Church edifice. Other de- nominations had preachers in their pulpit whose fame had even spread to other lands. All these ministerial brethren gave a cordial welcome to Mr. Beecher, and he soon found a place in many of their hearts. One, how^- ever, of the brethren does not seem to have had much confidence in the permanence of Mr. Beecher' s popu- larity, which was, he said, like wildfire and would goon go out. He would give him " just six months to get through." Yet for thirty-five years the Plymouth pastor has been among this people, preaching the Gos- pel, advocating on many a platform all kinds of local. Plymouth Church. MEETINGS IN BROOKLYN. 223 national, and foreign needs, lias always stood in the front rank of orators, and has enjoyed to this day as much of the sympathy and approval of the masses as any man has ever had in similar circumstances. By his own jjeople he has always been regarded with al- most idolatrous affection and confidence, and all who know him, with perhaps here and there an exception, would doubtless join good old Dr. Hodge in saying as he did, after hearing his lecture to the students of Princeton Seminary, "Whatever there may be wrong about Mr. Beecher's head, his heart is right." As an instance of the affectionate regard in which the Plymouth pastor is held by the multitude, the fol- lowing may suffice. Some time since when a sad ca- lamity had befallen our city, a meeting of clergy and influential citizens was called by the authorities to consider and devise some plan to raise means for the re- lief of many sufferers. During the discussion the pas- tor of one of the most influential churches arose and said, " Obtain the Academy of Music, secure the ser- vices of Henry Ward Beecher, and you will get all the money you want. ' ' That single utterance voices to- day the thought of Brooklyn as to his influence and power to move the people. The following half dozen meetings were held at the Academy of Music. This is the largest public hall in the city and holds perhaps 4000 j)eople. In the Au- tumn of 1879, the Republican party called a ratifica- tion meeting in the Academy of Music, to be addressed by Senator Conkling and others. Mr. Beecher, who had not been invited to speak, went to hear Mr. Conk- ling, and arrived some time before the senator. Ou 224 HENRY WARD BEECHER. Mr. Beeclier' s appearance at the rear of the platform, the vast audience, composed of all classes, rich and poor, laboring, mercantile, and professional, rose en masse and cheered most enthusiastically until the arrival of Mr. Conkling, while cry after cry, " Mr. Beecher," "Mr. Beecher," came from every part of the thronged building. Again, at the close of Mr. Conkling' s speech, a similar course was pursued by the great audience, until the chairman was constrained to ask Mr. Beecher to speak. The Parnell Reception Meeting occurred soon after, when Mr. Beecher was chosen by the representatives of Ireland, to give their welcome to the man whom they considered was serving their race most earnestly and successfully. The generosity of Mr. Beecher' s relig- ious views and his tolerance of those of others give him a just claim upon the appreciation which the Irish manifested to Mm on this occasion, and which they never lose opportunity fully to accord. The admira- tion manifested for Mr. Beecher was unbounded. Few weeks only had elajDsed when Mr. Beecher was again invited to address " The AVomen's Temperance Union" presided over by Rev. Dr. Cuyler. While his views on this question, as to measures, are not so rad- ical as those of others, and while he earnestly and un- hesitatingly declares total abstinence to be the only safe ground, yet he cordially extends his hand to those who entertain different views and advocate interme- diate measures. Again, but a brief period elapsed, when a great char- ity meeting afforded another occasion for the citizens of Brooklyn to call to their aid their much-esteemed MEETINGS IN BROOKLYN. 325 townsman. A brave officer in arresting a man was so beaten by " roughs" that he died, leaving a dependent family. The case excited the warmest sympathy of the Police Department — a committee appointed to de- vise measures for relief — this committee decided to ask Mr, Beecher to deliver a lecture on behalf of the fam- ily ; he consented, fifteen thousand tickets were sold, the Academy of Music could not contain the many thousands who flocked to hear him, and the wildest enthusiasm prevailed in the meeting. The great Channing Memorial Service, held in April, 1880, has seldom been equalled by any meeting either in New York or Brooklyn. The Academy of Music was literally packed. The clergy, irrespective of denomination, were there in large numbers. Addresses were made by representative men of all sects, and half past ten o'clock had arrived be- fore Mr. Beecher was introduced. It was no easy task to take a wearied audience at that hour and hold them for forty-five minutes, but he did it, scarcely a person leaving the hall during the address. The welcome accorded him at the beginning of his address was most enthusiastic, and the cheers and waving of handker- chiefs which greeted his paragraphs were continued till the close. The Garfield Ratification Meeting closely followed, when Mr. Beecher was among the chief speakers, and when the old enthusiasm on seeing him and hearing his eloquent utterances showed that the pastor of Plym- outh Church still lived in the hearts of the citizens, and that not one jot or tittle of their regard for him had abated. 226 HENRY WARD BEECHER. Thus in the City of Brooklyn, in the same audience- room, within a period of six months, were there six great meetings at which Mr. Beecher spoke, and on each occasion an ovation was given to the man to whom they had been listening for the third of a century. CENTENNIAL YEAR. During the entire period of the Centennial Exhibi- tion in Philadelphia, Plymouth Church and Mr. Beecher' s residence were daily sought by great num- bers of people, some on foot, many in carriages, stop- ping in front of the plain building that is such a resort for strangers on the Sabbath, taking the opportunity to enter and inspect the place where the man preaches that everybody wants to hear. Mr. Beecher was away on his vacation during part of July and the whole of the months of August and September, and yet it was evident in the audience during these Sabbaths that many visitors to the Centennial were present. There are six hundred free sittings in Plymouth Church, and if the pew-holders are not in their seats ten minutes before the time for commencing the services, the ushers are directed to fill their seats with strangers. On Mr. Beecher' s return so great was the throng of strangers, and so eager were they to hear him, that his own peo- ple, always so anxious to hear their pastor after his vacation, abandoned their seats during the whole month of October for the accommodation and gratification of these Centennial visitors. It was a goodly sight to see at least three thousand of these peoj^le every Sabbath, hanging with breathless silence upon the lips they had CENTENNIAL YEAR. 227 longed to hear. Probably every State and Territory in the Union had its representatives in each of the con- gregations during that month. Possibly twenty thou- sand strangers enjoyed the hospitalities of Plymouth Church during that season, and in various ways man- ifested their appreciation of the kindness thus ex- tended. The scene which the church presented at these services was very remarkable, and such as are rarely witnessed. The old and the young, the rich and the poor, persons arrayed in the extremes of fash- ion, could be seen sitting side by side in the same pew ; and the whole house thus filled ! The old farm- er's motherly wife from the prairies arrayed in the quaintest possible garb, her bronzed and sturdy com- panion by her side ; an eminent jurist and his refined, handsome, and fashionable daughters occupying the balance of the pew. It was an occasion that might well stir the heart of Mr. Beecher, and it did, for the eight sermons which he preached during that month were all that could be expected — even from Tiim. At the close of each of these services great multi- tudes availed themselves of the opportunity to shake hands with Mr. Beecher, and to mention to him their names. Their feelings appeared to be profoundly stir- red, and their manner of expressing them was often very touching. A large matronly woman stayed till all had left the house at one of the morning services, seeming loath to leave the place. She was evidently an intelligent, warm-hearted, spiritually-minded Chris- tian woman, and walking from the church toward the pastor's house, she said, " Well, I have heard that some of the people in Brooklyn talk against Mr. 228 HENRY WARD BEECHER. Beecher. I live in Oliio, and if you have got tired of Mm here, we would like to have him out there." MAGNANIMITY. Mr. Beecher' s career has been distinguished for generosity and magnanimity. He shuts no one out from sympathy because of his religious views. Other things being equal, he would as soon help a Mohamme- dan or a i)agan as a Christian. All men, with him, are brethren, having only one God, one Saviour, one Sanctifier and Comforter. In Catholic, Protestant, and sceptic are seen men for whom Christ died, and whom he would brood into love to himself and mankind. Mr. Beecher has j)robably been too generous, and his symj)athy and love too indiscriminate. But his yearn- ing toward the bad has been like His who ate with publicans and sinners. He maintains that a good man, though an infidel, is better and less harmful than a had Christian. He has even maintained that the Pope is his brother, in face of the fact that the Pope will not respond to his fraternal declarations. He has eulo- gized the conduct of some men whom the Church has advertised and shunned as' very dangerous. I think he would be quite willing to have any of the Catholic bishops or priests occuj)y his pulpit, and should Mr. In- gersoll, in any way, be permitted to tell Plymouth peo- ple how to be saved, the pastor would see that they should not be harmed by his statements. Mr. Beecher is not made of butter and oil. He can become quickly and readily indignant, even awfully angrv ; but he does not seem to need, as much as most MAGNANIMITY. 229 men, tlie admonition, " Let not the snn go down on your wrath." His wrath is as quickly aroused by in- juries inflicted upon others as wpon himself, but it soon subsides. He may be also quick to take offence, but he has the happy faculty of concealing it from others, although there are times when he does not care to con- ceal it. 1 have never dared to quarrel with him. The nearest approach to it was in arranging an engagement he had made to dedicate the new Congregational Church at Middletown, N. Y., a few years since. After the time ajDpointed for the dedication, the good i:)astor from Middletown called ujwn me, looking as if his last friend but one had abandoned him, and in a most despondent mood said, " Yesterday was the time ap- pointed to dedicate our church ; notice had been wide- ly circulated that Mr. Beecher was to preach the ser- mon, and before the time for commencing the services had arrived, the house was crowded. But Mr. Beecher was not there. The i^eople waited and waited, but he did not come, and after waiting more than an hour, the dedication was postponed and the people dispersed." The minister was greatly dejected, as the officers were depending on the collections and subscriptions they hoped to obtain on the occasion, to aid them in meet- ing some pressing claims. To relieve the good man, I said, " Now you may go right home and I will see that Mr. Beecher makes an ai:)X)ointment and that he does not overlook it." In the afternoon I called upon the i^astor and inquired if he had a good time at the dedication yesterday. With a most forlorn expression on his face he declared he " had forgotten all about it." '' Yes," I said, " the i^oor minister called on me 1^0 HENRY WARD BEECHER. this forenoon sad and sorry enough. I told him you would come up still and fulfil the appointment." He immediately said with earnestness, ' ' I toill, when shall I go ?" " Oh," I replied, " you must decide that ; when ca7i you go ? Get your docket and see what your en- gagements are." He and Mrs. Beecher looked over for vacancies, and finally fixed upon a date, and asked if that would do. I said, " You can make the time when you j)lease, and they will conform to it," and ac- cordingly he telegraphed at once the time to Middle- town. Calling upon Mr. Beecher, two or three days after, the moment I entered he exclaimed with em- phasis, ' ' You have got me into another scrape. I had an engagement already on that date you selected, and I have telegraphed to Middletown I cannot come." I answered, " If you are in any scrape, you are to blame, I am not, nor did I make any mistake, and yoa must telegraph immediately that you will go to Mid- dletown at the time appointed." " You did make a mistake, I had an engagement, and I won' t telegraph again," was uttered with more emphasis than the first accusation, and a rejoinder equally emphatic was ten- dered, with a request for a reproduction of the docket for examination. Turning to a particular date, when there was an engagement, " There, didn't I tell you I had an engagement then V " Who said you had not ? I did not." Looking on a little farther, and discover- ing that I was right and he was wrong, ' ' Well, I always did need a guardian," was his admission, and I added, " I wonder your father did not appoint one for you be- fore he died." " Oh, he needed one himself," was his answer, and as he will always have the last word, I re- MAGNANIMITY. 231 tired from tlie field. All I wanted was that he should go and dedicate the church, which he did to the great comfort and satisfaction of the formerly disappointed minister and people. I never knew any attempt on Mr. Beecher's part to revenge an injury. So ready is he to overlook and for- get, and almost to bless a man for abusing him, that his magnanimity appears sometimes a weakness. Just subsequent to the war, a minister came into the prayer-meeting who had been absent from the country for several months. Throughout the war he had seemed to delight in speaking and writing all the mean and ugly things possible of Mr. Beecher, and as nearly false and libellous as they could be. He was equally abusive also of other upholders of the government. On the evening alluded to, Mr. Beecher, calling him by name, said, "You have just returned from Europe; I am sure you can speak of something that you have seen and heard that will interest us, and we would be glad to hear them." For some minutes this man spoke of various religious matters in London connected with missions among the poor, ragged schools, lodging- houses, etc., so as to interest those who were present. Calling at Mr. Beecher's house after the meeting, I found him reclining in his library. I said, rather abruptly, " The only thing I get mad with you about is the way in which you treat those men who go round misrepresenting and abusing you and the church. And an angel might come into the lecture-room and he would not get half the attention you bestowed on that man to-night." To which he answered, " I believe in a fel- low practising once in a while what he preaches." 232 HENRY WARD BEECHER. This ended the interview. In this manner he generally disposes of those whose treatment of him has been un- kind. Another incident will illustrate this. Mr. Beecher, in calling at my house one morning, met with a, gentleman of the press who said he had just come from the house of — mentioning the name of a legal gentleman — and he declared he had never met a man who would say anything favorable of him. The newspaper man added, " Nor can I," and a gentleman, standing by added, " N"or can I, though I have been in Brooklyn and 'New York nearly a lifetime." Mr. Beecher inter230sed and said, '' I can tell you of a good many things that are creditable to him that I have known personally, and much that I have learned of others. I know his life in his family has been beau- tiful, the training of his children has been everything that could be expected from a sincere and intelligent Christian gentleman, and his family, in order, in har- mony, in affection, have shown the effects of his train- ing. Then E know the treatment of the large number of employes, both men and women, in his service has been testified to by them as that of real courtesy, kindness, and sympathy." Yet this man was considered to have been one of Mr. Beecher' s bitterest enemies, and was at this time supposed to be utterly inimical. So emphatic was this testimony given of his suj)j)osed enemy that if he had appeared at that moment asking almost any favor he could afford, Mr. Beecher would have conferred it in- stantly. Nor is there a man living to whom I think Mr. Beecher would not be delighted to be reconciled, no matter what wrong he may have perpetrated, or what WHAT WOULD YOU HAVE ME TO DO? 233 help lie may have withheld, when help was most need- ed. It would be " a joy day " beyond all that he has ever experienced, if the best and the worst of all those whom he thought had even enmity toward him would simply say, "Let bygones be bygones." As David said in haste, " All men are liars," so under stress of the moment, in haste, Mr. Beecher has said some sharp things. This he would admit, but he would not ask, nor suffer others to make admissions to him. WHAT WOULD YOU HAVE ME TO DO? At a Friday evening meeting Mr. Beecher had been dwelling on the subject of kindness and gentleness on the part of Christians in their intercourse with men, and how essential it was to cherish this spirit toward men who were angry and abusive. In the course of his remarks he alluded to some cases coming under his own observation where very violent and bad men had been won from hatred and opposition to the warmest friendship and devotion, by the gentle self-possession and kindness of those against whom they had been angered. Every one at all familiar with Plymouth Church knows that Mr. Beecher, in his own social meetings, permits criticisms and questions on the sub- jects presented. On the evening alluded to, one of the brethren of the church, who has a mind of his own and freely expresses it, arose when Mr. Beecher con- cluded and asked, " What would you do in such a case as this 1 There is a poor widow living in Brook- lyn who has a boy she cannot control ; he won't go to school, is constantly playing truant, living on the 234 HENRY WARD BEECHER. streets, and associating with others as bad or worse than himself. I met the boy in the street the other day, and took hold of him to take him to his mother, who is greatly troubled about him, and wanted him placed in the Truant Home. The little vagabond raised a great cry and gathered a crowd around. A loafer interposed to release the boy, wanting to know what I was going to do with him. As he attempted to take the boy from me, I told him, if he laid hands on either of us I would smite him between his two eyes. I ask again, what are you going to do in such a case V The pastor responded, " What do you want me to do ? Shall I do as a minister did who was preaching at a camp-meeting in the West ? During his sermon a fellow in the audience disturbed the meeting and re- fused to desist, paying no attention to the efforts made to quiet him ; the minister stopped preaching, went down to the disturber, gave him a good sound thrash- ing, went back to the stand and finished his sermon," THE DYING CALIFOENIAN. A year or two after entering the service of Plymouth Church, at the close of a Sabbath morning service in May, a tall, fleshy gentleman spoke to Mr. Beecher, who called me to him, and handed me the man's ad- dress, saying that his wife was ill and he wanted some one to visit her. I told him I would call and see her. Owing to a pressure from other engagements, and as nothing had been said about the lady being particu- larly sick, I did not call till Tuesday at two o' clock. When calling, I sent up my name, and the nurse THE DYING CALIFORNIAN. 235 came down and said that the lady Avas so feeble she conld see visitors only in the morning. Accordingly I called about 9^ o'clock the following morning. I was shown into the sick-chamber, where I found a woman sitting up supported by j)illows, in her bed, with a Plymouth hymn-book in her hand. She was a mere shadow, as nearly a skeleton as any person I had ever seen. Her voice was so weak that she could only speak in a low whisper. As her throat was completely ulcerated, speaking was very painful, and swallowing almost impossible. She expressed great gladness at my coming, and with intense animation made the fol- lowing narration. I use her own language as nearly as I can remember it. " I am a member of the Mount Yernon Church, Bos- ton. Seven or eight years ago we were living in Brooklyn, and we went to hear Henry Ward Beecher preach. My husband was taken ill ; his physicians said he had consumption, and told us that if we wished to save his life we must go to California. We made our preparations and went, and you see the result : he weighs two hundred pounds, is well and vigorous, and I am a skeleton. He improved at once on reaching California, but after a few years I began to run down, and this continued until my physician came in one evening and said, ' You will not live till morning.' I answered him, ' You could not have brought me better news.' But I did live until morning, and after several days I told my husband I would not die in California, I must go back to Brooklyn and hear Henry Ward Beecher again before I died. My husband settled up his business and we came back, and here I am." 236 HENRY WARD BEECHER. It would be difficult for me to describe the effect of this story upon me. Here was a woman who would not die in California, would hear the Plymouth pastor before she died, had come all the long, long way in the fulfilment of her desire, and here was I thrust in to fill the place of the only one on earth she cared to hear. I had to say something, and it was, " I am sorry you have so poor an apology for the one you came so far to see, but Mr. Beecher does no i)astoral work, and I have come in his stead." Quickly she replied, " It makes no difference ; I am ever so glad to see you, just as glad as if Mr. Beecher had come." I felt that she saw that I was embarrassed by the position in which I was placed, and her sympathy for me led her to speak words that were quite as strong as her real feeling would permit. I would have gladly left, but could not get away. Her animation and warmth were to me surprising. For nearly two hours I was held by her questions, the re- lation of her experiences, of the great kindness of the Lord to her in all her life, and that now He came so near to comfort and cheer her as she was j)assing through the valley and the shadow of death. She was ready and waiting, yea, longing to have permission to cross the river to the promised land. She was antici- pating the hour with a perfect enthusiasm of delight. Her vision was from the standpoint of the immortal Watts : "Sweet fields beyond the swelling flood Stand dressed in living green." We sang, " My Faith looks up to Thee," " Eock of Ages," and other hymns. 1 say we sang, for in her THE DYING CALIFORNIAN. 237 whispered tones she joined, and now and then a full round note would sound out clear and distinct as that of a bird. After reading the twenty-third Psalm and the last talk of Jesus with his disciples, and prayer, I rose to leave, and asked her if she would like to have the Lord's Supper administered to her, that I fre- quently did that service for the sick. She was greatly delighted at the suggestion ; I went at once and told Mr. Beecher her story, and that I wanted him to go himself and administer the communion to her. He readily consented to go on the following Saturday morning at nine o'clock. When we went in that morning to the house of the sick woman, we were escorted to an upper room, where we found her sitting in an invalid's chair, with her husband and three or four friends about her. I Avas struck, on entering the room, with Mr. Beecher' s ai)pearance. He was not at all at ease or at home, spoke in a mere whisper, and through the whole service it was quite apparent that he was entirely dissatisfied with himself or the way in which he was doing his work. Had it been some men, I might have said, they are afraid they will make some mistake, or that they had not done this thing before, and they did not know how to perfoi'm the service smoothly. As it was, Mr. Beecher came downstaks with a dissatisfied and dejected manner, and as he stej)ped on the sidewalk, with a sudden jerk of the arms downward, he exclaimed, " There, if I do pastoral work it spoils me for preaching, and if I preach it spoils me for pastoral work ; but if I should give up preaching altogether, and do nothing but pas- toral work, I could cut a big swathe, don't you think 15 238 HENRY WARD BEECHER. I could V I only smiled and said, " I slionld like to see you try it." LAST PRAYEE-MEETING OF THE YEAR. The last Friday evening of the year 1866, the meet- ing, at the suggestion of the pastor, was quite different In character from the usual prayer-meeting service. Almost invariably v^hen conducted by the pastor the first exercise is singing, followed by a pi-ayer, singing again, another prayer, followed by singing, and then the pastor' s address, varying in length from fifteen to thirty minutes. Ordinarily these services absorb most of the hour which is the time allotted for the meeting. When Mr. Beecher has closed his remarks, he general- ly asks if any one wishes to put to him any question. Many times the invitation is accepted, but often no one improves the opportunity, aird the meeting is closed by singing and the benediction. This is the only prayer- meeting of the church. At the meeting alluded to, after the customary open- ing, the pastor said, "As it is the last meeting of the year, it seems an appropriate thing to look back upon the year and to speak to each other of its experi- ences." There was a great deal of freedom among the brethren, and a large number gave testimonies, very varied in kind, and comprehending the whole space between great prosperity and sore adversity. Great afflictions accompanied with much suffering had been the lot of some, while others had passed through the year unscathed. In spiritual things some had been walking in high places, others in the valleys. There LAST PRAYER-MEETING OF THE YEAR. 239 were many more apparently desiring to speak than there was time to hear, and shortly before the usual time for closing the meeting the jmstor said, "Tm speaking of my own experience ; it seems proper that I should speak of what has come out of my own rela- tions and connections as your pastor. Some say to me, ' I should think it would make you proud to have such throngs come to hear you year after year.' I don't need that to make me proud. " Others say, ' I should think you would feel it a ter- rible responsibility to have such great congregations to preach to, when you remember what consequences are involved.' I don't feel any responsibility. I go into the pulpit and look round upon that great congre- gation, and my heart is filled with unutterable yearn- ings for them ; often I lose all desire to preach, and if I should consult my own feeliags would devote the whole service to prayer. But as to responsibility, as I have already said, I feel none. God knows I do the very best I can ; I put the best I know in my sermons, and leave the results with the Lord, and am not troubled in regard to that." On a similar occasion, when several had spoken of the year as one of growth both in temporal and spuitual things, the pastor in- terposed and said, " This will do for one side ; now let us have the other. Let some one who has had a hard time with others and especially with Mmself — some of you that have been proud, arrogant, self-willed, speak." One of the brethren answered playfully, *' Suppose you speak to that." Brethren often take such liberties with Mr. Beecher, and sometimes criticise what he may say or do. He 240 HENRY WARD BEECHER. may warmly advocate a course which the church may condemn, and when he has been defeated, those who have been victorious cannot be more pleased than the pastor himself. But his judgment and good sense are so admirable that he rarely advocates a measure that does not gain the approval of the church. There are no wranglings, no factions, and no divis- ions. Opinions may vary, but the result is harmony. I know from personal observation that more difficulties and divisions have occurred in some little church in a single year than have taken place in Plymouth Church since its formation. I have seen Mr. Beecher greatly enjoy a discussion upon some debated question in his church, and become almost hilarious, saying, " Well, that is the fruit of my teaching. I have ever enjoined you to be independent and think for yourselves, and not allow me or any one else to lead you against your own intel- ligent convictions." To have his church, therefore, act independently, is a source of pride and gratification to him, rather than one of irritability and dissatisfac- tion. But harmony and unanimity of action have always characterized the great body of communicants. During the great trouble through which the church was called to pass a few years since, its great member- ship of more than two thousand persons, with the ex- ception of a comparatively very small number, were banded together with a oneness and sympathetic affec- tion that was probably never excelled if equalled. Such manifestations of loyal attachment to a pastor, evincing themselves in so many conceivable ways and in such trying circumstances, are certainly without UNOBTRUSIVE LOVE AND SYMPATHY. 241 a parallel in tlie history of chnrclies, and have elicited eulogy and praise even from those who were most in- imical to Mr. Beecher and the church. Dreadful as was the ordeal through which Mr. Beecher was dragged, and fearful as his sufferings must have been at times, the sufferings of his people were little less than agony. Strong men with falter- ing voice and falling tears attested the sympathy and intense love of this people for their pastor and how completely they made his trouble their own. His support, serenity and cheerfulness, his ability to preach as he did every Sabbath during those dark, dark months, showing almost no appearance of wear or suffering, was, and is still, an unsolved wonder to those who did not see the position occupied by his church. Its members suffered almost more than the pastor. Their prayers and sympathies buoyed him up, rendering him almost unconscious of the malignant billows that were dashing against him. During those dreadful days no one ever intruded upon Mr, Beecher ; the love and sympathy of his people were not kept alive by personal intercourse with him, and not one in a hundred of his people had a moment's conversation with him then or since about these fear- ful troubles. There was a beautiful consideration, in this regard, shown to Mr, Beecher which neither he nor others can ever forget. Nothing I have ever experienced, seen, or read has afforded me such a view of devotion and affectionate attachment, of noble, unselfish love, and of the advantages derived from the instructions of a re- ligious teacher. No bondage like spiritual bondage. 242 HENRY WARD BEECHER. No suffering like that of the soul longing and seeking for light, and all the time falling into deeper dark- ness, hearing the cry, " Lo here and lo there," until, weary of following, it lies down in despair, Mr. Beecher has been favored so to minister to vast multi- tudes, that they have found rest and peace, and in the soil of their hearts strong and undying affection have sprung up, and so matured toward their spiritual teacher that they have yielded the beautiful and pre- cious fruits we have just detailed. BOEDER RUFFIAN. Immediately after the morning service in the sum- mer of 1877, almost before the benediction was con- cluded, a tall, gaunt man started from the centre of the church in great haste for the platform. He was ap- parently seventy years old, dressed in coarse, shaggy garments, and was just ready to rush up to Mr. Beecher when I said, " My friend, wait a moment, Mr. Beecher will be down directly, and then you can speak to him." He answered, " I am a Methodist preacher from Texas ; I was a border ruffian, and I' 11 bet a nickel if Mr. Beecher had been there he' d a been one too. I have shuck hands with Henry Clay, John Quincy Adams, Tom Benton, Dan Webster, John C. Calhoun, and now I want to shuck hands with Henry Ward Beecher." When Mr. Beecher came down, the Texan grasped his hand, shook it with great heartiness, said he was a border ruffian from Texas, offered to bet a nickel Mr. Beecher would have been one too if he had lived A SENSIBLE WOMAN. 243 there, and repeated the names of the celebrities with whom he had shook hands ; all this in a voice so loud he could have been heard all over the house had the congregation been seated. As soon, however, as he had told his story he started off almost on a run, and this was the last seen of the old Texan fighter. A SENSIBLE WOMAN. Years since a most estimable Christian woman, a member of Plymouth Church, was a dreadful sufferer from inflammatory rheumatism, and for twelve years had been almost entirely helpless. In all her suffer- ings there had been the most quiet patience, fortitude, and self-possession. It was beautiful to see her hearty acce]3tance of all her trials as the ministration of unerring love. She was exceedingly quiet and re- tiring, but manifestly peaceful and happy. There was always an apparent restfulness. She never seemed tossed about, but waiting for permission to enter the house of many mansions. She had been helped greatly through her long years of suffering by the teachings of Mr. Beecher, and often spoke of his sermons as affording her unspeakable comfort. One day entering her room I found her with a volume of Plymouth Pulpit lying open on the table beside which she was sitting. I said, " Since you cannot enjoy the visit of the original, I am glad you have so good a substitute." ^' Do you know," she replied, " I think the substitute is worth more than the original; I don't think it would be easy for me to converse with him, but I ain't afraid of his sermons, and can enjoy them very 244 HENRY WARD BEECIIER. much when I am here alone, as I am so much of the time." I spoke of this good woman at the weekly- meeting, not mentioning her name, and told what she had said respecting the pastor, and her preference for his sermons to his visits. He interrupted me, saying quickly and emphatically, " Sensible woman, sensible woman." WOMEN SPEAKING IN MEETING. Mr. Beecher has encouraged, or at least has never prevented females from sj^eaking in the meetings in Plymouth Church. He may not have urged it upon them as a duty or privilege, but he has rej)eatedly urged those who have gifts, that would render them ac- ceptable, to sx)eak. It is generally understood that all persons who have anything to say, as Mr. Beecher phrases it, are free to say it, whether they belong to the congregation or not. In this respect the women are placed on an equal footing with the men. The liberty of speech has not been harmful, and never annoying, except in the following instance. Some years since a lady, a stranger to the church, who seemed to consider herself competent to edify others, began to speak frequently, at the weekly prayer-meetings, and her speech was so indistinct as to render it difficult for more than half the audience to hear her. Her efforts continued with much fre- quency through several months. Finally she con- cluded to devote herself to the lecture platform, and advertised herself as " the eloquent lady speaker at the prayer-meeting of Plymouth Church." Before she had entered upon her labors she arose one evening THE METHODIST SISTER. 245 in the lecture-room after the usual time to close the service and the pastor requested her to be brief. Her address was so characteristic and prolonged that the people became restless, and when she closed Mr. Beecher said with well-understood accent and empha- sis, "Nevertheless I am in favor of women's speaking in meeting." The whereabouts of our long- time friend has been unknown to us since that evening. From time to time other women have spoken in our meetings, some of them returned missionaries and some Quakeresses, all of whom have generally inter- ested and edified the i)eople. THE METHODIST SISTER. One day in conversation with Mr. Beecher about the change that had taken place in the views and feelings of close communionists, in regard to permitting others to sit with them at the Lord' s table, I related the fol- lovdng incident in the life of Washington, told me by my mother. The winter his army was encamped at Morristown, New Jersey, General Washington was a regular attend- ant on the Sabbath service of the Presbyterian Church, the only church then in the town ; during the week pre- ceding the communion Sabbath, General Washington called at the i^arsonage and inquired of the minister, "Doctor, do you permit Episcopalians to come to your communion table?" The good man replied, " General Washington, it is the Lord's table and all his children are welcome to it." Mr. Beecher remarked that the most rigid were far 246 HENRY WARD BEECHER. less SO tlian formerly, and he did not believe that there were many tables so close now that General Washington or any other good man would be in dan- ger of being driven from them. As illustration of his opinion he told the following : In a town a very interesting revival occurred in the Baptist Church, while there was little or no interest in the Methodist Church in the same place. In this church there was a very devout, warm-hearted old lady, who was attracted to the special services in the Baptist Church, where her son also attended, and be- came a convert, to the great joy of the old saint, who was accorded full liberty in expressing her enthusi- asm in the Baptist meetings. Communion season was approaching, and the old woman' s boy felt he ought to be immersed and become a member of that church where he had found the Saviour. To this the old lady did not object, but when communion Sabbath came she was on hand with her son, and one of the deacons seeing her among the communicants, went to the min- ister and said to him, " That old Methodist is sitting down there and means to commune with us." " Does she ?" he inquired with great seriousness of manner. " What shall I do ?" inquired the deacon. " There is my hickory stick down yonder, get it and kill her." The old woman was not killed, but partook of the sup- per with the Baptists unmolested. APPLICANTS FOR HELP. Mr. Beecher has acquired such notoriety for liber- ality and sympathy, that he has been overrun for CURIOUS BEGGARS. 247 years with all sorts of requests for every kind of as- sistance. In liis liouse, in the street, at the close of services in the church, he has been beset with those charity-seekers. When called to my present field of labor, one thing only did Mr. Beecher request, " that I should be as a Idnd of lightning-rod to relieve him from the care of those applicants." He knew he had often been imposed upon, and as I had had some experi- ence in the distribution of charity he desired to have all cases referred to me, as he could not say " No," even to a " dead beat." At the close of a Sunday evening service, just after the war, I saw a man with an amiy coat on, buttoned up to the throat, waiting to speak to Mr, Beecher, who immediately referred him to me. I asked him what he desu-ed of the pastor. " I want a clean shirt. " " Why do you come to Mr. Beecher for a clean shirt ?" "I have read his articles and other things that have been written about him, and I thought he was a kind man and would grant me such a favor." " Where do you belong and what have you done for a support 'f "I belong to Alexandria in the District of Columbia, and have been a fisherman on the Potomac." "Yes, I have a family and had misunderstandings ; I did not think I was treated properly and came away." " Well, my advice to you is, to go back quicker than you came away." " No, sir, I want to let them know that I can take care of myself. I saw they wanted men to work in the brickyard up at Flushing, and I thought if Mr. Beecher would give me a clean shirt, I would walk up there and go in the bay and take a bath, put on the clean shirt, and go to the brickyard and apply 248 HENRY WARD BEECHER. for work." Lodging, breakfast, and a clean sMrt were provided for him, and lie went on his way. Directly in front of the platform in one of the free seats on a pleasant spring morning sat an old gentle- man of perhaps sixty, whose tears fell frequently dur- ing the sermon, and an occasional ' ' Amen' ' empha- sized the old man's apjDroval of the sermon. The moment the benediction was pronounced he stepped to the platform and handed a book to the pastor, who, as he came down, handed it to me, wishing me to tell him what to do. Opening the book I found it con- tained contributions for the owner's benefit. I asked him what he was obtaining these subscriptions for. "For myself." "Where do you belong?" "Fred- ericksburg, Virginia." " Why should you be here begging in this way?" "Because I am needy." ' ' You are not sick, why don' t you go to work and earn a support for yourself, or if you are going to beg for a living, why do you not stay at home and ask help of them tliat know you, instead of coming here among strangers V ' To all of which I could obtain no other statement tlian that he had obtained from those who knew liim all they were willing to give. His book had been in use a long time, and the aggregate contri- butions were very considerable, and though beginning at Fredericksburg, they had been added to at various places all the way from there to Brooklyn. I advised the pastor to give him fifty cents. " Oh, give him five dollars," was the answer. When the old man got his five dollars, he said, "Now I want to see Brother Beecher and have a good talk with him," but he was told that that was out of the question. OTHER APPLICANTS FOR HELP. 249 During the '' Centennial," a woman from Boston, apparently thirty to thirty-five years of age, called upon me to inquii'e where Mr. Beecher resided, saying she was an orphan from Boston, that she had been to Philadelphia and wanted to remain over Sunday to hear Mr. Beecher jDreach, and thought, as she was an orphan, she could be entertained at his house. Of course she was educated, but not very modern in her general appearance, especially in regard to her dress. Many come to entreat a collection in the church or lecture-room for their benefit. From Pennsylvania and Western States some urgent appeals have come by letter, and some women have journeyed more than a thousand miles to secure collections to save home- steads from being lost under foreclosure of mortgages. In a single week on one occasion, two mothers came, and were seemingly disappointed that their re- quests did not meet with a favorable answer. One, the daughter of a clergyman, was evidently educated and refined. Her husband had been unfortunate, and though once in very comfortable, if not affluent cir- cumstances, they were now in absolute want, and threatened to be turned from their rooms iipon the street because they could not pay their rent. They had two daughters who had been delicately brought up and could not resort to ordinary service for a sup- port. This was the story of this wife and mother, and in it all it was quite apparent that a foolish j)ride had kept them from economies and industries that would have kept them back from the extreme condition to which they were now reduced, but she had none, and the family had none of that decent pride which would 250 HENRY WARD BEECHER. prevent them going to entire strangers entreating a public collection. Slie seemed linrt and disappointed when I told her that the church would not take such collections, and that if such were attempted there would be no end of applications from persons as needy and deserving as herself. A widow with a little girl twelve years old called for help, saying by way of precedent that " Mr. Beecher had taken a collection for the widow of a policeman who was murdered," and she too was in need of help. I told her that Mr. Beecher did not take a collection, but that he had given a lecture in the Academy of Music for a case which was very different from hers. The man was murdered while in the discharge of his duty as an officer, and his widow was left with several young children. As she was in good health, I advised her to go to work in some family with her child or else get a place for her child in some family that would take good care of her, and go to work herself, earn what she could, placing in bank what she could spare, and thus accumulate something against the day of sickness and want. The advice was not much relished. As I entered the pastor's library one morning, a man perhaps sixty passed out, while the pastor was hold- ing a pen in his mouth and was just putting his check-book in his safe. I said, " I wish I had the key of that safe." "What would you do if you had f " I would keep you from drawing checks for those shysters that are constantly sponging upon you." " Oh," he replied, " I only gave him twenty-five dol- lars. It's Captain B , he is an old English shipmas- STRIKING ADAPTATION. 251 ter, has lost his shijo, and is going to Charleston to get a new ship." I was amiably rebuked for being sus- picious of siicTi a man. Possibly six months after this, I was told a gentleman was waiting to see me, and entering the room I at once recognized the wrecked English sea captain. He arose and intro- duced himself as Captain B , had been sick and was on his way to Philadelphia to his ship, out of funds, and wanted to get sufficient to pay his way to Philadelphia. " I called round to see my friend, Ward Beecher ; he helped me once, but is not at home, and I was referred to you." I told him I knew that he had received help from Mr, Beecher, and that he ought not to have gone to him. I could not help him, but if he could show that it was important for him to get to Philadelphia, if he would go to Mr. George Kellogg, who Avas the superintendent of the out-door poor in I^ew York, he would give him a pass to Philadelphia. Six years have gone since these applications, and Cap- tain B has not appeared to reproduce his need of means to obtain a "new ship," or a "pass" to any city. UNIVEESAL ADAPTATION. A striking feature of Mr. Beecher' s sermons, his lecture-room talks, and especially his prayers, is their adaptation to so many and such a variety of human ex- perience and want. This is not only true of his ser- vices as a whole, but in each particular service the needs and yearnings of every variety of temperament and of every condition in life find relief, comfort, light. 252 HENRY WARD BEECHER. and strength. Nothing is more common in visitations among the peojole than to discover this peculiarity in the results of the teachings of Plymouth pulpit. Though familiar with the intluence of many p>astors — good, true, and successful men of God — I have never known any ministry so eminent in this particular as that of Mr. Beecher. While scarcely any pastoral work is performed by him, yet his sermons manifest the most intimate personal knowledge of his people's spiritual condition ; very frequently persons have said to me, Mr. Beecher must have been informed of my circumstances, troubles and sorrows, doubts and fears. He could not speak so exactly to my wants if some one had not been talking to him about me. The testi- mony of Mr. Beecher' s intimate knowledge of the inner consciousness of his hearers, does not come alone or chiefly from his own people, but from men and women of all Christian sects over the whole land, and also from other lands by those who have heard Mr. Beecher or read his utterances in the printed page. Prom the knowledge I have acquired b}'' pastoral visits, by in- terviews at my own house, and by letters, I am confi- dent that the teachings of Plymouth pulpit have been wonderfully used by God to comfort and bless a far greater number of persons and churches than any one has ever attempted to estimate. Many years since I was x)ermitted on one occasion to read a brief note directed to Mr. Beecher and dated at a European me- tropolis. I Avill attempt to recall its contents as nearly as possible : " Rev. Henry Ward Beecher — Dear Sir : You will be surprised to receive from me a letter dated from AN ENGLISH CLERGYMAN'S LETTER. 253 this distant city. My family liad preceded me, having come to Eiirox^e for the benefit of my wife's health, who had been ill a long time. Among other reading matter a large nnmber of your sermons was brought over by my family, and they have been the constant companions of Mrs. A. daring the day as she lies upon her couch ; they lie upon her j)illow while she sleeps, and the reading of them is renewed when she awakes. My wife charges me to express to you her thanks for the great comfort and help she has de- rived from reading them. The other members of the family unite in this expression. Permit me, as I know something about sermon-making, to express my won- derful admiration at the exuberance of your mind in preparing sermons." The writer of the letter, since deceased, was not of the same denomination as the pastor of Plymouth Church, but was one of the most conservative, best known, and widely jpopular ministers in the land ; Mr. Beecher's senior both in years and in the ministry, but never intimate with him, occupying until his death a most conspicuous and honorable i^osition at the head of one of the chief seminaries of learning in our land, and previously pastor for many years of one of the lar- gest and most influential churches in the country. If it were consistent, I would gladly give his name, as the letter was most creditable to him and admirably illus- trated what I have endeavored to show of the wide heli^fulness of Mr. Beecher's instructions. So much is put into the sermons at Plymouth Church that any one sincerely and simply desiring to know the truth for the purpose of accepting and obeying it may 16 254 HENRY WARD BEECHER. find all that is necessary to a clear and intelligent con- ception of what is required. But Mr. Beecher' s prayers, even more than his ser- mons, have excited my wonder and admiration as well as the astonishment of others. The wonder is not at their great literary excellence, not at the remarkable illustrative genius always manifest, nor at the great eloquence and force with which the grandest themes are brought, in form so clear and simple, to the door of eaph individual soul, for it to appropriate and be made to feel " It is for me." The prayers are marvellous in their inclusiveness and individuality. This is the wonderful feature in Mr. Beecher' s prayers. It would seem while Mr. Beecher is praying that each one in the church was taken in Ms arms and borne into the presence of that God ' ' who is waiting to be gracious." A conscious nearness to the Saviour is very apparent and prevalent. Many have said that after the prayer they did not seem to need the sermon. Their weary, yearning, dissatisfied spirit had obtained rest, satisfaction, and peace. What, it may be asked, are the elements of Mr. Beecher' s ministerial success ? I think we must go outside of his rare and wonderful endowments to learn what is the root and ground of his success as a Chris- tian minister. I believe God, in his wondrous plan and purposes, having seen that the work Mr. Beecher has been doing was greatly needed, that the heavenly Father raised Mm up, inspired and fitted him for it. '' His suffi- ciency is of God." It has been given him of the Holy Spmt to jind the hearts of men, weary and hungry A BEREAVED MOTHER. 257 and sore, and then to lead them to the Great Phy- sician for refreshment, rest, and healing. No man un- taught of the Divine Spuit could preach to men and so commune with God as the j)reaclier of Plymouth Church does. I cannot dispossess myself of the idea, after all I have seen of Mr. Beecher, that he has been taken into such wonderful intimacy and communion with Christ, as to learn things that are not lawful to be told, that he has been drawn into earthly walks to some Emmaus where his heart has burned within him, as the Christ of the disciples opened his eyes to behold wonderful things which should make him a workman of whom the Master would not be ashamed. THE WOMAN WHO LOST HER BABY. In the early part of my labors for Plymouth Church, I called upon a family, of which the wife and mother was a member of Mr. Beecher' s church. During the conversation, this mother frequently alluded to the great helpfulness of the pastor' s sermons to her. To illustrate this fact, she told me how she was led to go to Plymouth Church. " Eight years ago," said she, " I lost my baby, and it was such a loss, I was utterly disconsolate, I could only think of my dead hahy. It was a simple, unmitigated grief from which I found no relief or alleviation. I could not weep, not a tear could I shed, and though I sought counsel from those I thought good and wise, no one afforded me any com- fort. I was educated as a Friend, and I sought help from them, but I obtained no relief, and was in such desj)air that my friends feared I would become de- 258 HENRY WARD BEECHER. ranged. I did become rebellious and reckless, and said one day to my mother : ' The Lord has killed my baby, and I dont love him.' 'Why,' said mother, 'what does this mean ? ' and I repeated, ' The Lord has killed, my baby, and I do not love him.' It occurred to me one day that I might be helped by Henry Ward Beecher, and resolved at once to go and see him. Re- flecting upon it, I thought it will be of no use to make the attempt ; so many are running to him he will take no notice of me, so I gave ux) the thought of seeing him, and continued in my way of despair and sorrow, until it occurred to me I can write to him and tell him my story and ask him to help me out of my darkness. I was so encouraged with this i)lan that I immediately wrote the letter, sealed and directed it ; then the fear arose that it would be useless to send it, as he was re- ceiving hundreds of letters ; he would not pay any at- tention to mine further than to open it and throw it in the waste basket ; and with this feeling oppressing me I decided not to send the letter and sank down to my old despairing mood. After a time, it again occurred to me that I might derive help from Mr. Beecher, and I determined that I would go and hear him preach the next Sunday morning, and through the next week made all my arrangements with this view. When the Sabbath came I started at an early hour for the church, and on the way, putting my hand into the pocket of my dress, it came in contact with the letter which I had wiitten to him, and of which I had not thought for some time. With the letter in my hand I entered the church, walked up to the pulpit, laid the letter on the book-ta- ble, went down and took a seat among the congregation. A MOTHER FINDS JOY AND PEACE. 259 When Mr. Beeclier entered I was greatly excited. When he took np my letter I was expecting he would simply glance at it, tear it up, and throw it upon the floor. But he read it deliberately, then placed it in one of the books, and laid the book open on the reading-desk. I was in a tremor of excitement through the opening services, and during the main prayer up to that part in which he was presenting the personal needs of the con- gregation, when he said, ' 0 God, we pray for the poor woman who has lost her baby,' and then offered a tender and pitifnl petition that I might have divine help. I was deeply touched the moment he alluded to my case, and for the first time in the long months that had passed since my baby died, I was able to cry. In- deed I could not restrain my feelings ; tears ran down my face during the entire remaining service. I cannot describe the instant relief I experienced, I was lifted from the very dex)ths of despondency not only to great peace, but alsolute ecstasy. Everything the Lord had done was right. I had no further controversy vdth him, and if he had told me I might have my baby, I should have told him to keep it. My mouth was filled with singing, and the change in my appearance was so great since the morning, my family felt that now I was surely deranged. My joy and peace continued through the day. In the evening I went to church again, tears of peace and gladness flowing continually. Mr. Beecher in his prayer said : ' O Lord, we must pray once more for that poor woman who has lost her baby,' and as I could not have done, he carried my case to the blessed Comforter, who had already so graciously comforted me. In the subsequent days I retained the same tran- 260 HENRY WARD BEECHER. quillity and tlie most cheerful acquiescence in the Providence that took my baby from my arms. And this is the way I came to unite with Plymouth Church. Oh, how I wish Mr. Beecher knew what he has done for me, and how much he has helped me. " I asked, ^' Did you never tell him the story you have told me?" No, she had never mentioned it. "Well, I will see that he does know it." At the next prayer- meeting I related the incidents very much as I have written them here. Many eyes showed that hearts were touched. Mr. Beecher made no other response than was indicated by his face, but that showed in every lineament satisfaction, sympathy, and joy. CHAPTER XI. PLYMOUTH CHURCH. Plymouth Chuech is Mr. Beeclier's best monu- ment. Its life began thirty -five years ago (June, 1847), with twenty-one members. It now numbers (1882) two thousand four hundred and ninety-one. During these tliirty-five years its gross membership has been nearly forty-six hundred, of whom therefore about twenty-one hundred have left it by death, dismission, or exjDulsion. Many of these are, however, still in affectionate, personal relations with the church of their first love. They have gone out from it carrying to other churches the breadth of view, the tolerance of other people' s opinions, the indift'erence to forms and externals, and the personal love for a personal Saviour which they have learned here. They have been active as founders of new churches, not only in New York, Brooklyn, and vicinity, but all over the land. Not a few such have taken the name, still more have im- bibed something of the spirit of the mother church. The graduates of Plymouth Church are all proud of their alma mater ^ all look back with loving remem- brance to their associations with her, and when they visit Brooklyn return to their mother church with love in their hearts and tears in their eyes, as children who return to their home after long separations. Such greetings in the morning services or at Friday evening 262 HENRY WARD BEECHER. prayer- meetings are common. During all tliese years this community has never known a quarrel. Differ- ences of oiDinions have been developed, warm discus- sions have taken place, but no quarrel lias ever broken that love which is "the bond of perfectness." The social unity which characterized the church in its earlier days it is impossible to maintain in one of twenty-four hundred members, scattered over two cities. But cliques and caste in an offensive sense are unknown, and party differences and divisions are ab- solutely unheard of. In all the excitements through which the church has passed, in all the battles in which Mr. Beecher has been engaged, his church has never faltered in its love and loyalty for him. Jealous of its independence, recognizing in its pastor no ecclesi- astical rights which do not inhere in the humblest member, not infrequently refusing to follow his lead, and always subjecting his recommendations on all matters of church business to the freest possible criti- cism, it has yet stood about him personally with a sympathy which no slanders could chill, and with a fidelity which no assaults could weaken, loyal in its love for him through good rejiort and evil report, in times of popularity and in times of abuse, undivided and unshaken. "Mr, Beecher' s life," well whites to me one of the older members of his church, " can never be fully given to posterity without some adequate understand- ing of Plymouth Church, as an illustration of his knowledge of human nature, and his peculiar and wonderful skill in swaying great bodies of men. It is isomething different from the power of the orator, who WHAT DRAWS THE CROWD. 263 influences for the occasion only. It is a wisdom of administration that for tliirty-five years has held together a body of two thousand people of the most varying opinions, drawn from all the sects in Christen- dom, who have worked together in every form of benevolence, in the church and in the community, without dissension or disagreement, and as far as can be said of anything earthly, without variance or shadow of turning."" To the casual visitor, Plymouth Church is simply a great gathering-place on the Sabbath of three thousand peojDle, drawn together by the magnetism of a great orator. Even as such it is a remarkable phenomenon. For thirty-five years the same orator, standing on the same platform and under the same roof, has drawn these audiences, and the throng is as great to-day as when his face was strange, and his voice new, and he possessed all the attractions with which the enthusi- asm of youth in a period of strong public excitement invests a new contributor to public discussions. " How shall I get to Plymouth Church?" asked a stranger in IN'ew York of a Plymouth Church mem- ber. " Cross Fulton Perry and follow the crowd," was the reply. He who ol:)eys this dkection on any Sabbath morning between the first of October and the first of July, will find himself at ten o'clock in the morning in an irregular, informal, but consider- able procession going up Hicks Street, and turning the corner of Orange Street he will reach the front of a plain brick edifice without tower, steeple, or ornament of any kind. Entering, he will find the " meeting-house" as plain within as without ; a nearly 264 HENRY WARD BEECHER. square audience-room, with large galleries running round tliree sides, and a second gallery or loft at the rear ; plain white walls, plain white wood- work — in short, an audience-room as unchurchlike as can be * imagined, for it neither resembles an ancient cathe- dral nor a modern theatre. At the farther end is a platform, on which there is always a bouquet of flowers, and on the platform three chairs and a small reading-desk. The only bit of conventionalism about the church is the huge x^nlpit Bible, which is still al- lowed to lie on this desk, why I do not know, as Mr. Beecher always reads from a small Bible which he holds in his hand, and always lays his notes loosely ; on the desk, never cunningly concealed, after the pro- fessional manner, in tlie pages of the big Bible. Di- rectly in the rear of the platform, a little above it, is a small choir gallery and a big organ, which is too large for its space, and obtrudes itself somewhat osten- tatiously upon the congregation, as much as to say, " If you doubt whether you are in a church, look at me !" If our visitor is a church-goer his doubt whether he is in a church will be somewhat increased by the general atmosphere of the place ; this is not spiritual, but pre-eminently social. It is now ten min- utes past ten, and the congregation are beginning to as- semble. Instead of kneeling with bowed head upon the hassock, or sitting in meditative silence, they are chatting with each other, reaching across aisles and pews to shake hands, introducing new friends, or wel- coming old ones. There is no loud and boisterous talking, but people do not think it needful to speak in whispers ; there is no hilarious laughter, but genial THE CONGREGATION OF PLYMOUTH CHURCBI. 265 humor and a quiet laugh are not so rare as to attract any attention. Now and then a man without a com- panion to talk to takes a daily paper out of his pocket and reads the news. To some reverent-minded people, accustomed to come to the sanctuary to worship God, this seems irreverent and almost shocking. But when I see how many churches there are with pillared naves and dim religious light, half filled or hardly that, and how many groups of men and boj^s there are upon the streets of a Sabbath morning to whom dim religious light has no attractions, I am myself inclined to think that there are churches enough for those who want to worship God, and that there is room for some new churches for people of a less spiritual and more social turn of mind, who might be drawn to church by social attractions and inspired to worship after they got there. Such at all events is Plymouth Church. Its invitation and its welcome are social ; its food is intellectual and spiritual. As the minute hand draws near to half i)ast ten the congregation gather more rapidly ; at twenty minutes past ten the seats not already occupied by the pew-holders are, by the terms of the renting, free, and the ushers begin to fill them up ; at twenty-five minutes past, the aisle seats, of which one is attached to every pew and by a curious contrivance folded up against it, are opened with a sharp clicking noise, all over the house, and occupied ; at twenty-eight minutes j)ast ten Mr. Beecher has entered through a little door in the rear of the pulpit, his notes in hand, and takes bis seat ; and at half past ten, exactly, the organ begins its vol- untary, every seat in the church is filled, and he who arrives after that must stand, or sit on the pulpit stairs, 266 HENRY WARD BEECHER. if he is fortunate enongli to get within the doors at all. It is no uncommon thing for hundreds to go away. The choir is a large chorus, which has broken over the bounds of the choir gallery, into the end seats of the other galleries. It renders the opening anthem effectively, but rather with force and vigor than with delicacy and retinement. Its chief function is to lead the congregational singing, and this it does perfectly. Hymn and tune books are scattered throughout the congregation ; and every one sings. It is worth while to go to Plymouth Church were it only to hear three thousand people join in singing, " How Firm a Foun- dation," to the Portuguese hymn, or " Love Divine, all Love Excelling " to the tune of Beecher. Such sing- ing is to be heard nowhere else. In Dr. Allon's church in London the congregation sing with better musical taste and render music far more difficult ; but even in Dr. Allons the abandon, the enthusiasm, the " making a joyful noise unto the Lord," does not equal that of Plymouth Church congregation. The one is an Eng- lish, the other is an American singing. Up to the close of the anthem the atmosphere has been social. The choir is too prominent, the me- chanics of the music too evident, the quality of per- formance too manifest to allow the opening piece to produce much atmospheric effect. Mr. Beecher rises, and by his two minutes of invocation changes the entire atmosphere. We are no longer in a lecture- room, we are in a church ; no testimony to the power of simple character could be, I think, more striking than the change which is wrought by this opening prayer. For the prayer itself is perfectly simple. It MANNER OF WORSHIP. 267 is rather a meditation tlian a prayer. It is less a sup- plication than a simple opening of the heart to receive the gift of the Holy Spirit. The voice is low and ten- der ; it is at first heard with difficulty at the farther end of the church. But the bustling congregation is absolutely hushed and still. There are no late comers to disturb and convert the invocation into a cold for- mality ; no creaking boots down the aisle, for the aisles are full ; no seating of strangers, for the seats are all occupied ; no opening and closing of doors, for the line of latest comers fills the doorway. The bustle which so often obtrudes itself upon a congregation until almost the time for the sermon to begin, is over In Plymouth Church before the anthem is ended. And the opening prayer is a true prayer, a doorway opened through which, as it were, God enters last of all, to reach his i)eox)le. The rest of the service is in form like that in most New England churches. The modi- fied liturgy which some of our non -liturgical churches have adopted Plj^mouth Church has never attempted. The hymns are announced, but rarely read ; when one is read the reading is all the more effective for the fact that it is rare. The Scripture reading is very seldom accompanied with any other comment than that of a peculiar emphasis, giving to the text a pecul- iar power, and sometimes an absolutely new meaning. If you come in the evening you will find another congregation as large as that which assembled in the morning, but almost wholly different. The pew-hold- ers are absent ; strangers have taken their places. The services and the sermon are modified accordingly The morning prayers are largely meditative, the evening 268 HENRY WARD BEECHER. prayers are supplicating ; tlie morning prayers are in the spirit of tlie 17tli of Jolm, the evening prayers in the spirit of the Lord's prayer. There is the same difference between tlie sermons. The morning sermons are preached to the church, the evening sermons to the w^orld ; the morning sermons are doctrinal and spirit- ual, the evening sermons are x^ractical and persuasive ; in the morning Mr. Beecher fulfils the second half of Christ's commission, instructing Christ's disciples to do all things whatsoever Christ has commanded them ; in the evening the first part of that commission, herald- ing to all classes the gospel. The jDurely theological sermons are always given in the morning ; the purely ethical and political sermons are generally given in the evening. The Plymouth Church lot extends from Orange Street through to Cranberry Street. In the rear of the church, fronting on Cranberr}^ Street, but entered from either end, is a two-story edifice which serves a triple purpose. The first floor is a large audience-room which will easily seat eight or nine hundred people ; this is the lecture-room. Along its side, on a floor elevated a little above it, and separated from the lecture-room by sliding doors, are the social parlors. In case of necessity — and in times of special religious interest this necessity often exists — these doors can be thrown open and the parlors made a part of the lecture-room, add- ing to it a further seating capacity of three or four hundred. Connected with the parlors is a kitchen ; adjoining them a small room for meetings of commit- tees, trustees, and the like. In the second story is the Sunday-school room, which is equipjoed with both FRIDAY EVENING MEETINGS. 269 organ and piano, with special rooms tliat can be sep- arated from or connected with the main room by slid- ing doors or windows, which are used for infant and Bible classes. There is but one weekly meeting of the church. This is the Friday evening meeting. It is a meeting for instruction rather than for prayer, though always oj^ened by several prayers from different mem- bers of the church, interspersed with singing. It is a meeting for instruction by the pastor rather than for conference, experience, or mutual exhortation although there is always an opportunity for others than the pas- tor, and it is often taken advantage of with a consider- able degree of freedom. A meeting in this lecture- room Mr. Parton has described in his " Famous Americans." Mr. Parton is not himself famous for his spirituality ; and the reader will be interested in his description, as showing how this meeting strikes an average man of the world, of intellectual quickness and acumen, but without spiritual warmth. " The room is largo, very lofty, brilliantly lighted by reflectors affixed to the ceiling, and, except the scarlet cushions on the settees, void of uj^holstery. It was filled full with a cheerful company, not one of whom seemed to have on more or richer clothes than she had the moral strength to wear. Content and pleasant expectation sat on every countenance, as when people have come to a festival, and await the summons to the banquet. No pulpit, or anything like a pulpit, casts a shadow over the scene ; but in its stead there was rather a large platform, raised two steps, covered with dark green canvas, and having upon it a very small table and one chair. The red-cushioned settees were so arranged as to inclose the green platform all about, except on one side ; so that he who should sit upon it would appear to be 270 HENRY WARD BEECHER. in the midst of tlic people, raised above tliem that all might see him, yet still among them and one of them. At one side of the platform, but on the floor of the room, among the settees, there was a piano open. Mr. Beecher sat near by, reading what appeared to be a letter of three or four sheets. The whole scene was so little like what we commonly understand by the word * meeting, ' the people there were so little in a 'meeting' state of mind, and the subsequent proceedings were so informal, unstudied, and social, that in attempting to give this account of them, we almost feel as if we were reporting for print the con- versation of a private evening party. Anything more unlike an old-fashioned prayer- meeting it is not possible to conceive. " Mr. Beecher took his seat upon the platform, and, after a short pause, began the exercises by saying, in a low tone, these words, 'Six twenty-two. ' " A rustling of the leaves of hymn-books interpreted the meaning of this mystical utterance, which otherwise might have been taken as announcing a discourse upon the prophetic num- bers. The piano confirmed the interpretation ; and then the company burst into one of those joyous and unanimous singings which are so enchanting a feature of the services of this church. Loud rose the beautiful harmony of voices, constraining every one to join in the song, even those most unused to sing. When it was ended, the pastor, in the same low tone, pronounced a name ; upon which one of the brethren rose to his feet, and the rest of the assembly slightly inclined their heads. It would not, as we have remarked, be becoming in us to say anything upon this portion of the proceedings, except to note that the prayers were all brief, perfectly quiet and simple, and free from the routine or regulation expressions. There were but two or three of them, alternating with singing ; and when that part of the exercises was concluded, Mr. Beecher had scarcely spoken. The meeting ran along, in the most spontaneous and pleasant manner ; and with all his heartiness and simplicity, there was a certain refined MR. PARTON ON PLYMOUTH PRAYER-MEETING. 271 decorum pervading all that was done and said. There was a pause after the last hymn died away, and then Mr. Beecher, still seated, began, in the tone of conversation, to speak, somewhat after this manner. " ' When,' said he, ' I first began to walk as a Christian, in my youthful zeal I made many resolutions that were well meant, but indiscreet. Among others, I remember, I resolved to pray, at least in some way, every hour that I was awake. I tried faith- fully to keep this resolution, but never having succeeded a single day, I suffered the pangs of self-reproach until reflection satisfied me that the only possible wisdom with regard to such a resolve was to break it. I remember, too, that I made a resolution to speak upon religion to every person with whom I conversed, on steamboats, in the streets, anywhere. In this, also, I failed, as I ought ; and I soon learned that, in the sowing of such seed, as in other sowings, times and seasons and methods must be considered and selected, or a man may defeat his own object, and make relig- ion loathsome.' ." In language like this he introduced the topic of the evening's conversation, which was. How far, and on what occasions, and in what manner, one person may invade, so to speak, the personality of another, and speak to him upon his moral condition. The pastor expressed his own opinion, always in the conversational tone, in a talk of ten minutes' duration ; in the course of which he applauded, not censured, the delicacy which causes most people to shrink from doing it. He said that a man's personality was not a macadamized road for every vehicle to drive upon at will ; but rather a sacred inclosure, to be entered, if at all, with the consent of the owner, and with deference to his feelings and tastes. He maintained, however, that there were times and modes in which this might properly be done, and that every one had a duty to perform of this nature. *' When he had finished his observations, he said the subject was open to the remarks of others. ' ' 17 272 HENRY WARD BEECHER. We will not follow Mr. Parton in Ms report of what followed. It would be valuable here only as illustrat- ing what is a characteristic feature of these meetings, the utter disregard of conventionalism and even of what many would regard the proprieties of a religious meet- ing. Mr. Beecher always keeps his seat. He not un- frequently interrupts others with a question, they sometimes interrupt him, A good-humored play of feeling or fancy is not uncommon ; and rippling laughter is not regarded as any infringement of the decorum of the j^lace. Sometimes this proves a seri- ous embarrassment to a stranger. I remember on one revival occasion a pious but rather solemn brother from Philadelphia was giving an account of the revival meetings in that city. He went, he told us, to an early morning prayer-meeting, a noon business man's prayer-meeting, an afternoon union prayer-meeting at three o'clock, a lecture or prayer-meeting in the evening, and an inquiry-meeting after that. " You may ask," he said, " how I was able to attend so many meetings, and also to attend to my business. But it so happened, in the providence of God, that I hadn't any business to attend to." He said it with a solemn naivete which was' irresistible ; a smile broke over Mr. Beecher' s face, and a genuine ripple of quiet laughter ran round the room. The poor man was hor- ror-struck at a prayer-meeting in laughter, and sat down as though he had been shot, while Mr. Beecher turned off his embarrassment with a pleasant word and caught up the broken thread of the meeting with that peculiar tact which is not the least of his many and diverse gifts. MORNING PRAYER-MEETINGS. 273 Mr. Parton lias given one picture of these meetings ; it would take a large picture gallery to represent their varied aspects. For these walls have witnessed many- scenes of most profound spiritual emotion, and if they could speak what they have seen and heard could tell the story of many a conversion wrought and many more recorded through the influence which Plymouth Church prayer-meetings have exerted. Probably the most sacred season in the history of this room was the season of 1857 and 1858. I well remember the stormy, snowy Monday morning in February when a few of us, twenty-eight in number, I think, met for a first morn- ing prayer-meeting. Religious interest had been deep- ening throughout the country, it had been deepening in Plymouth Church ; but to all requests to appoint a protracted meeting, Mr. Beecher had but one reply. He disavowed his belief in " got up " revivals, saying that if the spirit of revival was in the church the re- vival itself would follow. For two weeks this morn- ing meeting was continued, without Mr. Beecher' s presence ; to some he even seemed to discourage the work by refusing to participate in it, but his purpose was to put the responsibility upon his people, and he achieved his object. Reluctantly but gradually they took it, the meetings steadily increased in size and in- terest ; and at last, at the close of a Sabbath evening inquiry meeting, he announced his purpose to be pres- ent at the next morning prayer-meeting. This was March 11th, and from that day till July 3d those morning meetings were kej^t up, I believe without a break, and almost without a single absence of the pas- tor. They who attended these meetings will never 374 HENRY WARD BEECHER. forget them ; their freedom of intercourse, theu* social warmth, their spiritual tenderness. Thek commingling of humor and pathos, of the intellectual and the emo- tional, of the practical and the sjDiritual, in a word their life^ genuine, free, untrammeled, varied life, gave them a character wholly indescribable. What- ever the spirit of the meeting had been, at the close Mr. Beecher invariably rose and invited any present who wished so to do to oifer their requests for x^rayers, for others or themselves, and then, catching instantly and repeating to the meeting the request, often fal- tered out by wife or sister or mother, almost under breath, finally gathered them uj) and grouped them to- gether in a supplication which forgot not one ; and the whole meeting always caught the spirit of his spiritual tenderness and sympathy, and ended in a communion with God, the more delightful that it had been pre- ceded by an hour of communion with one another so entirely spontaneous and free.* The regular Friday evening meetings, it should be added, furnish Mr. Beecher his pastoral opportunity. Mr. Beecher never does any house to house visitation ; and now he rarely conducts even a funeral or calls on those in sorrow. But he nevertheless does a consider- able amount of j^astoral work. At the close of his Friday evening meeting he holds what I may call a re- ligious reception. For sometimes half an hour after the regular service is closed, he sits on the platform * A little memorial of the revival in Plymoutli Church was published (Clark, Austin & Smith, 1859), containing an account of these meetings, but there is no space here to quote incidents from it. The book is now out of print and rare. MR. BEECHER'S INSIGHT.' 275 to receive, hear, suggest, counsel, direct. He shakes hands with any one who offers him a hand. No name escapes him. A friend returned after a long absence is instantly recognized and greeted with the warm cordiality of a love that is without dissimulation. If one of his j)arishioners wants to see him privately he sits down vntli him in a pew, hears his experience, divines it before it is half told, enters into it with a heart full of sympathy, and meets it with a sentence which goes right to the heart of the matter, sometimes hurting at the time, but serving perhaps all the better for that very reason afterward. " What shall I do, Mr. Beecher?" asked a lady parishioner in domestic trou- ble. " Where can I go for help V " Is it possible," answered Mr. Beecher, "that I have been preaching to you all these years, and you do not know where to go for helj)?" "It hurt meat the time," said this lady, afterward speaking to me ; " but I never forgot it ; and when his troubles came I knew where his help came from." Generosity of symj^athy and quickness of insight are a part of Mr. Beecher' s genius ; his sympathy opens your heart to him, his insight quick- ly discerns its wants ; and thus he is often able to ac- complish in an hour an amount of pastoral work which a man less magnetic, less sympathetic, less quick in mental and spiritual action would require days to ac- complish. But if Mr. Beecher rarely performs what are known as pastoral services, Plymouth Church is not pastor- less. She has in the Rev. Samuel B. Halliday a Pas- toral Helper who is admirably qualified for the i)er- sonal work of the pastoral office ; his warm heart, his 376 HENRY WARD BEECHER. spiritual earnestness, his intensely practical common- sense, and liis tender sympathies, make him a valued friend and a wise counsellor. The whole work of pas- toral administration is largely in his hands. He visits the sick, converses with inquirers, oversees the mission work in its various departments, keeps account of the church charities, attends the funerals, and even cele- brates the weddings. He is honored and loved by the entire church, and by none more than by Mr. Beecher himself, whose spirit he has caught and with whose views and methods he is not the less in perfect sympa- thy, that he is a man of singular and ahnost idiosyn- cratic independence. The division of labor between pastors and teachers dates from the apostolic age. Plymouth Church in having one man for its teacher and another for its pastor has ventured on an experi- ment which many have declared can never succeed. It seems, however, to have succeeded perfectly in this instance ; and it is at least a fair question whether churches might not well adopt the same principle in whole or in part, by relieving their teacher of the de- tail of pastoral labor, and by putting them upon an assistant or even upon office-bearers who in too many American churches bear nothing but the name of their offices. Up to about 1860 these services, those of the Sab- bath and of Friday evening, practically constituted Plymouth Church. There were social gatherings, and a sewing circle, and various like attempts at organiza- tion ; and there was a Sabbath-school connected with the church, of course. But the Sabbath-school was in no way worthy of the church, and the missionary and PLYMOUTH CHURCH MISSION SCHOOLS. 377 social organizations were for the most part fitful and transient. In 1858 the church had not a single mission it could call its own. And still its young men were not idle. I was teaching a Bible class of young men that year in connection with the church. I wanted to change it from a morning to an afternoon session, but every member of my class was engaged in some sort of missionary work, though not in work organically con- nected with Plymouth Church. Under George A. Bell the Sunday-school was reorganized in 1862, and pro- vided with its x)resent admirable accommodations. Five years later, under the same skilful organizer, the Bethel Mission, formerly a union missionary work, ex- cellent in spirit but poor in equipment, feeble in re- sources and small in results, was adopted by Plym- outh Church and put in possession of an admirably equipped building. Four years after that the church adopted the Mayflower Mission, which had maintained a checkered existence under great discouragement and disadvantage for nearly thirty years before that time ; a church building was purchased and remodelled for its use ; and this, its present home, is one of the best adapted and most attractive missions in the city. The property of both missions is entirely free from debt. Plymouth Church is no longer a mere congregation ; it is a working body, well organized, with three Sunday- schools, two of them missions, each with its own inde- pendent social and religious life. Both the missions have well-equipped free reading-rooms, open in the evenings, well supplied with daily and weekly news- papers and the best magazines, and always well filled with readers. Both have libraries which are well fur- 378 HENRY WARD BEECHER. nislied, not witli the average Sunday-scliool books, but with the best English classics — Scott, Dickens, Thack- eray, Hawthorne, Cooper, Howells, being among the story writers represented in its shelves. The library of the Bethel nnmbers two thousand books. There are Bible classes for adults sufficient in size to constitute a very respectable congregation, with a teacher who is, in fact, though not in name, a lay preacher. There are social parlors where there are gatherings, some- times religious, sometimes social, sometimes an inter- mixture of the two. Sabbath evening services are held, at which there are either lay addresses or a more formal sermon by a minister. A monthly paper de- voted to the interest of Plymouth Church and its two missions, keeps the great body of the church ac- quainted with the progress and prospects of this gospel work. The warm feeling of personal loyalty which the workers in these missions feel for them is one of the strongest indications of the permanent quality both of their work and of the organizations which have grown up out of it. The organization of Plymouth Church is congrega- tional, and however it may be accused of having de- parted from the theology, it certainly has not departed from the ecclesiastical simplicity of the Puritans. All business is transacted in o^Den meetings. All members of the church vote. Nothing is relegated to a stand- ing committee or board. Even the Examining Com- mittee hold their sessions at the close of the prayer- meeting, and all members of the church are at liberty to remain and listen to the examination if they will. The church is in theory and practice a little communi- PLYMOUTH CHURCH COVENANT. 279 ty of Christian believers, all of whom from the pastor to the poorest and humblest member stand upon an eqiiality. No person has any greater authority than his personal influence gives to him. The church has a creed or articles of faith ; they were adopted in 1848. These are strictly evangelical and include an explicit statement of the doctrine of the fall and of everlasting punishment. But since 1870 persons joining the church are not required to assent to these articles of faith. They simply assent to the following covenant and en- ter into covenant with the church : " Do you now avouch the Lord Jehovah to be your God, Jesus Christ to bo your Saviour, the Holy Spirit to be your Sanctifier ? Renouncing the dominion of this world over you, do you conse- crate your whole s&ul and body to the service of God ? Do you receive his word as the rule of your life, and by his grace assisting you, will you persevere in this consecration unto the end ?" / In the prayer-meetings in 1858, of which I have given some account above, Mr. Beecher said : " Some men scy, ' I would become a Christian, if I only first un- derstood all the doctrines of Christianity. Tell me what is this doctrine of the Trinity, of the atonement, of Justification, of adoption 1 ' My reply to all such persons is, ' You need no such instruction as this ; you know already much on all these subjects and are no better for it. What you need is to put on the Lord Jesus Christ as your Saviour ; after that you can ex- amine all these doctrines as much as you please.' " There is nothing extraordinary in this ; many a minis- ter has made substantially the same reply to inquirers. What is peculiar is that Plymouth Church believes this 280 HENRY WAED BEECHER. doctrine and embodies it in its cliurcli life. It pre- scribes no other condition of membersMp in its school of Christ than the humble, lowly, and docile spirit of a discij)le. Such is Plymouth Church : a great audience gath- ered on the Sabbath for worship and instruction, but rather for instruction than for worship ; a smaller con- gregation, but still a large one, gathered weekly on Fri- day evenings for worship, for Christian intercourse and for instruction, but rather for instruction than for in- tercourse, and rather for intercourse than for worship ; but it is also a vital working force of Christian disciples, bound to their church by many a sacred association in connection with it, and bound to their work by warm human sympathy, real philanthropic enthusiasm, and a loyalty of love for a personal Saviour. When the teacher dies Plymouth Church must undergo some great changes ; but it would be a great mistake to think that the church will die. The Sabbath audiences may and probably will fall off to the dimensions of an average Sabbath congregation ; the Friday evening meeting may suffer a still more serious diminution, and become an ordinary prayer and conference meeting ; but the worMng body which forms to-day the heart of Plymouth Church will not lose its head, nor abate its sympathies, nor slacken in its enthusiasm, nor prove unfaithful in the loyalty of its love to its Saviour. For whatever may have been true in the j)ast, to-day the true, the inner, the working Plymouth Church is held together not merely by a personal love for Mr. Beecher, but yet more by a x^ardonable pride in the church, a common sympathy in Christian word and work, and CHRISTIAN ENTHUSIASM IMMORTAL. 281 above all by a genuine Christian enthusiasm in its Christian work. Such an enthusiasm is immortal. It never dies in the death of the man by whom it has been inspired.* * For a statistical statement as to Plymouth Church and its work, see Appendix. Paet II. WORDS FROM MANY WITNESSES. The letters which follow^ from a nurriber of emi- nent clergymen and laymen^ have been written hy request^ and furnish accounts^ some of them of incidents in Mr. Beechefs life, others of special aspects of his character as viewed hy the respective writers. They are in all cases published in full and without alteration. They might have been easily indefinitely multiplied but for want of space. The reprints from periodicals, following the letters, are published with the consent of the authors, with one or two exceptions where com- munication with the writer was not practicable. HENRY WARD BEECHER. PART II. ANALYSES OF HIS POWER, AND EEMINIS- CENCES BY CONTEMPORARIES. I. By THOMAS ARMITAGE, D.D., Pastor of the Fifth Avenue Baptist Church, New York. No one honors Henry Ward Beecher more, or can speak freely of him with less misgiving, than I. It seems desirable, after the frightful afflictions through which he has passed, and the obloquy to which he has risen superior, that in his lifetime he should have the pleasure of knowing that some of his brethren appreciate him at his real worth. All his attributes of greatness and goodness will, I am persuaded, be readily discovered when he is dead ; for justice must be done some time, and will be pro- claimed without restraint by many who do not even suspect their existence now. But those who have already made that discovery need scarcely wait for his " sepulchre" as the fittest time for its avowal. They have not "stoned" him on his way thither; hence they may gracefully leave to those who have the rightful inheritance of " garnishing" his tomb when he is comfortably dead, and can draw no solace from posthumous devotion. Mr. Beecher became the pastor of Plymouth Church two months before my own pastorate began in New York, and as his life has 286 HENRY WARD BEECHER. been an open book, I bave known bim for above tbree-and-tbirty years, not in tbe most familiar intimacy, but better tban one pas- tor commonly knows anotber, and witb an intelligent friendsbip wbicb bas never flagged for a day. We bave seen many public objects and interests in a common ligbt, and pursued tbem in close sympatby ; wbile in otbers we bave avowed tbose bonest differences wbicb bold true men firmly in eacb otber's esteem. Wbo can forget bis ardent and far-sigbted patriotism in tbe en- mities, strifes, and batreds of our civil war ? For bis country bas passed tbrougb no trial witbout enlisting all bis powers for its vindication, bonor, and rescue. As tbe narrow bitterness of those times pass away, men begin to see tbat bis life bas been full of cbarity, of tenderness, justice, and trutb. Spots and blem- ishes migbt be found, even in a life so true and inspiring, but tbese must be left as gleanings for tbe gratification of tbat pug- nacity wbicb bas dogged bis acts and virtues relentlessly at every step, do wbat be would. His prominence and influence in politi- cal controversy pushed him to tbe front of tbe strife, and because bis powers were mighty, bis pen and tongue were sharp, incisive, and overwhelming, making his opponents Avince, and at times galling them unpardonably. But to bis immortal bonor it must be said tbat a fascinating humor and tbe sunshine of good nature bave softened bis sharpest contentions, rendering it impossible for bim to vulgarly bound down any man on a blind outcry. His name will be interwoven witb the fortunes of bis country, as one of its foremost men. His healthful patriotic positions will live in influence when be is dead, for bis memory is no small gain to humanity, so tbat be can afford to endure scorn and hate while be lives, if true Americans shall see in him tbe noble citizen and real brother when party mists bave cleared away forever. His marvellous humanity, bis great-souled pleas for his country, and his universal cbarity can never be forgotten wbile there are Ameri- can tongues to speak and pens to write. ANALYSES OF HIS POWER, AND REMINISCENCES. 287 Many hallowed memories are awakened within me as I re- member that out of about four hundred pastors who were in this city and Brooklyn when Mr. Beecher came here, there are not more than half a dozen who are still active in the same pastorates. And the great secular minds who then controlled the thought and action of the city and the nation have also given place to their successors. Through all these changes he has been spared ; and, excepting that he is more gigantic in his attainments, influence, and effectiveness, he is the same grand, genial, manly man that he ever has been, both in the pulpit and out, and is still bent upon accomplishing the great work of his life, knit by every delicate tie which binds him to his own devout people stronger than ever. The chief difficulty of saying what one wishes to say concerning Mr. Beecher within reasonable limits arises out of his many-sided character and powers, forming a most symmetrical unit both in heart and head. Last summer I entered the neat cottage of an intelligent mechanic in the heart of Yorkshire, and found him quite enthusiastic over one of Mr. Beecher' s weekly sermons. Seizing the opportunity to draw out a disinterested opinion in such a place, and from such a man, I asked him hruskly why he spent his precious time in reading " that fellow's sermons," ini^tead of Liddon's and Stanley's and Spurgeon's, which were published in the same periodical ? He replied like a philosopher : " Ah, sir, I read those too ; but it seems to me that the great object of Mr. Beecher's life is the upbuilding of man, and I always read his the first, for I think him the greatest preacher living. " I felt that the honest and devout mechanic had gone to the very core of his ministry and life at a bound. As a representative leader in human progress the American divine gave up his whole being from the first to the aim of making man more pure, more beautiful, and more happy. No man can aim higher, and for this purpose God has wonderfully endowed him with all the requisite qualities found 18 288 HENRY WARD BEECHER. in a vigorous, keen, versatile intellect, and a glorious heart. By these he has honestly battled for the rights of man ; being ever ready to defend the weak, and to claim that freedom for others which he enjoyed himself, despite all the bitterness of fierce, cruel, and slanderous speech. Pre-eminently a man of progressive thought and action, he has resisted all temptation to turn aside or to tone down his demands, much less to silence ; bending his whole force toward the improvement of mankind, seeking that perfection by progress in the future which men have not found in the past. Life has had for him a deep seriousness, which he has expressed in clos6 contact with the great events and men of his times ; so that in turn he has inspired and been inspired by reformers, heroes, statesmen, scholars, artists, poets, sages, handicraftsmen, slaves and saints, in the general contribution to human advancement. Yet his name is not the echo of any man's voice, but is a great, distJTict, and fruitful nature. But wide as his work has been in the spheres of patriotism and philanthropy, his distinguishing glory is seen in his greatness as a preacher. Power in the pulpit is felt so differently upon different minds, that no two would award the same position relatively to the same man. But taking all things into the account, I have no reluctance whatever in according to Mr. Beecher the first place among the preachers of the world to-day. What little I know of preaching and preachers compels this avowal in all honesty, as I am convinced that his ministry has sent forth a moulding voice and influence which have given new tones of health, ardor, and life to thousands in the pulpit. Having consecrated his high powers to the elucidation and enforcement of the grandest themes of prac- tical and experimental import for a full generation, and done this in a way that was never properly attempted before, it is no won- der that humdrum prosiness, dignified tediousness, and profitless speculation should have given place among us to the spirited, forceful, and profitable pulpit address of to-day. It is said of the » AI^ALYSES OF HIS POWER, AND REMINISCENCES. 291 late Dean of Westminster that he was the enthusiastic and brilliant scholar of his noble tutor Arnold, and that he establisbed the school that his master created. But Mr. Beecher is his own orig- inal, he is a copy of no model in modern times. His sermons'^ exhibit a larger reading of human nature, a broader use of philo- sophical inquiry, a fresher application of gospel truths, a clearer induction of common-sense, and a more independent rectitude, than has fallen to the lot of any modern preacher, enstamping his sermons with a vehement individuality which amounts to a new creation in that line. His subjects sweep the whole sphere of truth, being endless in their variety, and become, year by year, fuller, broader, and richer, as if the supply were inexhaustible. Equally at home on all subjects whicb he chooses, he is ever lucid in his treatment, and bracing to the tired and flagging sons of men. He leaves nothing of consequence to the perfection of a discourse undone, but draws upon boundless stores of thought, language, and illustration, and utters them with the ardor of an old prophet, now in withering indignation at wrong, and then with an affectionate kindliness and beauty which always kindles at the right. Never unprepared, he commands all the members of his subject at will, working up to his own standard as an accomplished master of his work, which gives freshness and vigor to all that he says. These abilities, with his fine voice, commanding presence, and burn- ing love of man, make his word powerful indeed. As years roll on, his sermons become more and more high-toned in spirit, fresher in tenderness, and more elevating in effect. They evince a broader culture, a deeper reverence for God, a simpler faith in Christ, a purer spirituality of feeling, and a softer earnestness than ever. As is natural, these elements overbear every approach to parade, either of learning or profundity, and to a large degree repress the critical faculty in favor of the appeal. That knowledge of anatomy, character, and color which a great painter like Da Vinci evinces in drawing the human face, Mr. 293 HENRY WARD BEECHER Beecher applies after liis order in depicting the inner life of man. Da Vinci's higli cultivation and triumphant reign in art have enriched its whole realm, as few have enhanced its wealth. The richest gifts of Heaven were bestowed upon him. They made him the miracle of his age, forming the chemist, the musician, the thinker, the poet, and the painter, rendering hira the founder of the Lombard school, and controlling the art world to the close of the sixteenth century. That school blended the opposites of minuteness in detail with the grandest sublimity. In the land- scapes of this master every leaf is taken from nature, and in his heads all is perfect. The hue of the skin, the throb of the arteries, the light of the eyes, and every accessory tint is there, as well as the poise of the body and the grace of the limb. And, as his great powers make his name the first among the painters of the fifteenth century, so, I think, will Mr. Beecher's rank him among the preachers of the nineteenth. Ilis persecution has been one of the most wicked and infamous pieces of abuse since the crusade against Wesley and Whitefield ; as near as may be, a crucifixion. Its virulence has been terrible — truth seems at times to have fallen in the streets and reproach made her robes foul ; but worse than all, the attempt was made to justify the outrage in the pure and loving name of Christ. From the opening of his ministry, the sword was drawn upon him and the scabbard cast away, not need- lessly, for his foes discovered in him the metal which would de- mand their attention till he' died. But his sufferings have quick- ened and inspired his intellect, his acute distress has vitalized his courage, and his very wounds have thrown him back upon his moral perceptions and hope. Great preachers, like other great men, are of but little service to their race until they have suffered much with and for their Lord. Many who never foully aspersed Mr, Beecher nor cast reproach upon his fame, have still felt sad misgivings concerning him on the grounds of alleged unsoundness in his views of theological ANALYSES OF HIS POWER, AND REMINISCENCES. 293 truth. On a number of points in theology I differ with Mr. Beecher widely. But as a theologian I cannot measure him by any given scholastic standard, because he regards all such tests as the formulas of imperfect minds, and rightly too. As a rule these standards were largely the culmination and outcome of controver- sies which had been long rife, concerning which the newly- announced creed settled nothing. I should suppose that he claimed the right, with the authors of the various creeds them- selves, to draw much of his theology out of his own inner life, as he believes it to be nourished by his own religious thought and feeling. At any rate, no observing man can listen to his teach- ings, but especially to his prayers, Avithout the persuasion that his heart offerings rise from a golden censer having much frankincense from God and myrrh from man. His theology is drawn largely out of the recesses of his own soul, but chiefly out of the facts of our Lord's life, as found in the sacred narratives ; so that he relies more on living sympathy for soul-solace than on any or all the formulated Christian dogmas. He seems to sum up his theology in the thought that Jesus Christ is man's friend in all his needs and under all circumstances, both in this world and that which is to come. This is world-truth and not class-truth, the soul of divinity without the body, rather than the body without the soul. His principal difference from most of us is found in that freedom which interprets Christ differently from us. And who of us is willing to be bound down hand and foot by the old, uninspired standards, in all things, great and small ? We yearn after a gen- erous gospel lovableness — a broad, fearless, and bright humanity, which touches and sanctifies all healthful social interests and call- ings, all aims and efforts of humanity ; enlightening its fears, exciting its hopes, and warming its love. Nothing which con- cerns the real welfare of man is foreign to the gospel ; therefore, everything that is beautiful, pure, and true belongs to Christ, and so Christ's life bears upon all human benediction, whether men 294 HENRY WARD BEECHER. have covered it by avowed dogma or not. Possibly Mr. Beecher does not wish to be accounted a theologian, as some men use that term. Baldwin Brown recently said : " The most inhuman of the sciences in all ages has been theology ; some of the most inhuman men that have ever lived have been divines and rulers of the church." All that order of notoriety Mr. Beecher would surely deprecate, but would covet theology as a divine science and life ; a living reality indeed, without its narrow words and defini- tions, as they bristle with technicalities which the Scriptures and simple-hearted people know nothing about, and which make it a mere mummy to enwrap and entomb the truth, instead of a living temple where it may be enshrined. For this arrogant, intolerant, and unlovable theology, Mr. Beecher cherishes but contempt, and by no means stands alone. Bat for that which glows with love for God and light for man, his heart has always extended a warm welcome. In promoting that wisdom which is pure, peaceable, full of mercy and good fruits, his theology has been positive enough, while in the pedantic and cynical it has been decidedly negative. In other words, behind his theology has always stood the firm, true, brave man ; cool, self-poised, and self-possessed, yet as sensitive as a child. At times the sanctimonious in the- ology has evoked in him a keen, quiet sarcasm, never bitter but always pungent, and as much the overflow of affection as his tears, while its real sanctity has intensified and mellowed his courage and life. Both Mr. Beecher's preaching and general religious views have provoked much criticism, because of their highly emotional char- acter. This criticism would carry the greater weight if he evinced a relative forgetfulness of deep and abiding principle in his teaching. A fair mind must take in all sides of his ministr}^ in order to a right and comprehensive judgment here. Certainly he perpetually insists upon honesty, justice, truth, integrity and equality, not as matters of feeling, but on principle. Most ANALYSES OF HIS POWER, AND REMINISCENCES. 295 earnestly he treats of God and man, of human weakness and divine energy, of God's law and man's obedience, all of which must lead to right thinking and action, promoting good will to men with love to God. He regards it possible to reach thorough Christian character only after long and patient toil ; transient and impas- sioned effort cannot attain thereto. He teaches that the perma- nent and radical cure of man's moral nature is effected slowly and not suddenly, much as a confirmed invalid is restored. The only efficient remedy is seen in a steady abstinence from all wrong- doing, God-ward and man-ward, coupled with constant obedience to the law of God ; these are his proofs that a man is truly healed. Still, coexistent with this teaching, he refuses to be blind to the fact that God has endowed man with those potent emotions and passions which, in the nature of things, link themselves to all his other religious attributes. Not long since a New York daily, in reporting one of Mr. Beecher's sermons, on " The Love of\ God," remarked that : " He is nothing when he does not treat/ of love." Well, what would Jesus his Master be but for his love ? Doubtless it is true that where the will and moral faculties are weak and the animal nature controls them, great peril impends, for there, supposed seraphic feelings may lead their victim to iniquity, and the purest affection Avill become debauched. Hence we have cases where the refined, loving, and sincere fall into gross sin from a superabounding emotion in religion. Not only are proper guards against this tendency found in the exacting ethics of Mr. Beecher's preaching, but a second preventive centres in the whole tone and animus of his ministry, which draws upon the whole sphere of pure and healthful nature for its staple and life. He ever finds elevating companionships in flowers, fruits, birds, trees, music, poetry, and exalted mental sentiment. Music in nature floats through and refreshes his soul like breezes from the everlasting hills. An elevated lyric is as welcome to him as the pulsations of new life. And the poetry of a noble action lights 296 HENRY WARD BEECHER. up in him a deep of Christian experience and truth. All these shape and feed his utterances in argument, picture, parable, and incentive, till his productions abound with the signs and influences of an intense life in himself, and that of a wholesome and natural order. And, of course, all who prize such life — the child, the youth, and the man of maturity — become impressed with his own nobility and take up his convictions and impulses into their own nature, to cheer and enliven them by making a Christian life a reality, to be roundly lived in real men and women. Religious emotion so excited cannot be unhealthy, but must be stable, open- hearted, quickening, and winsome. It may contain something of a woman's softness, but it must be firm and intellectual, because it recognizes vitalizing life in everything and finds it everywhere. In a great and grand sense it may be said that Mr. Beecher "has served his generation by the will of God." He has not merely " filled his place." There is all conceivable difference between a man filling his place and " serving his generation." To fill his place requires a body, but to serve his generation by the will of God demands a soul — a soul measured by the imperious mandates of time and the outreaching behests of influence. To a man who has no convictions, no fidelities, no fixed aims, the grave is but the cell of a condemned wrong-doer, but on the time- filling and influence-creating man its ashes will shed new beauty. Mr. Beecher will be better understood in coming generations than in this, for now, to a certain extent, the universality of his work hides his universal success. Many admire him to-day, but all will be poorer when he finishes his work. Often men make a pretence of admiration over one who dares to think for himself and to say what he thinks, even if they cannot grapple with his conclusions or comprehend his methods of reaching them. But during his lifetime they never forgive him for his boldness and originality. He may be as free from rancor as Nathanael was free of guile ; the very soul of a noble life, without meanness, never having \ ANALYSES OF HIS POWER, AND REMINISCENCES. 297 injured any man. But all that does not shield him from blows which agonize a bleeding heart. If he blesses his race and pays the stipulated price for the privilege — if he is free, merciful, and catholic, hosts will rise up against him, as the great Brooklyn divine knows by all his bitterness of grief. Yet may he soothe his last years, as Garfield soothed his last days, with the thought which is ever sweet to man, that his name, his influence, and his work will pass into history and unborn generations will call him blessed. II. By JOSEPH PARKER, D.D., Pastor of the City Temple, London, England. I FEEL some difficulty in speaking about a man who has laid so deep a hold on my affections, because terms which are mere com- monplaces in the atmosphere of my love must seem to be exagger- ations of the most daring kind to persons who suppose themselves to be unprejudiced simply because they are uninformed. The first object that strikes me, in my dining-room, is Mr. Beecher ; the first object that strikes me in my drawing-room is Mr. Beecher ; the man who occupies the largest space in my albums is Mr. Beecher ; the man whose letters we reread to ourselves and to our friends is Mr. Beecher ; it is just possible, therefore, that per- sons who know nothing at all about him may accuse me of approaching my work with more or less of partiality. I first met Mr. Beecher during his visit to Manchester at the time of the American Civil War. An immense meeting flooded the Free Trade Iiall. The greatest expectation had long been raised, so great, indeed, as to become a practical injustice to any public man, and now it was at its supreme point. When Mr. 398 HENRY WARD BEECHER. Beecher appeared the scene baffled description ; the cheering, stamping, clapping, shouting, and partial groaning, made the hall shake again. Mr. Beecher rose to speak, but the audience must needs cheer ; once more he got to " Mr. Chairman," and once more the cheers rang out in wild and all but unanimous harmony. Mr, Beecher quickly caught the groans and hisses of a clique at the far end of the hall, and intuitively seizing the temper of his audience he laid aside his elaborate manuscript and went right at his work. For something like two hours he went on, making his triumphant but far from uninterrupted way through facts, statistics, policies, and arguments, without so much as referring to a memo- randum. As an effort of memory, as an effort of the voice, and as «. miracle of wisdom and good-nature, I never heard the equal of that massive and overwhelming oration. From that moment we knew, the greatness of the cause, and we felt that its advocacy was in the strongest possible hands. There was hfe in every tone, so much so indeed that the whole effort seemed to be part of the very battle which it described. Truly, it was no amateur elo- quence ; it was no attempt at scene-painting ; it was a fight, a heroic onslaught, and, from my point of view, a victorious assault at arms. I afterward met Mr. Beecher at a public breakfast and heard his reply to a congratulatory resolution, which was much like seeing Niagara two miles below the Falls. The next time I heard Mr. Beecher was at the Evangelical Alliance at New York. His subject was The Pulpit and the Age. Dr. Kidder and myself spoke on the same occasion, and on the same topic. Mr. Beecher had nothing before him but the briefest notes, yet for the greater part of an hour he poured forth a most copious stream of eloquence with an ease which could only be realized by life-long experience and use. The address summed up the lessons of a lifetime. I have often described Mr. Beecher' s face as being on that occasion the very type of an April day, for the smiles shone through the tears, and a subtle humor edged the most solemn thinking as a ANALYSES OF HIS POWER, AND REMINISCENCES. 299 ring of light often engirdles the most sombre of clouds. The whole genius of Mr. Beecher's own preaching was happily illus- trated by that many-phased address ; there was a line of deep clear thinking from end to end, again and again there was a figure which shone like a planet, in a moment there was a touch of humor not at all irreligious, and a broad human sympathy was expressed in tenderness which needed and secured the assistance of tears. The address was not something about preaching, it was itself preaching of the very highest order. Personally I have no doubt that Mr. Beecher's power is not a little enhanced by his almost unique gift of language. He could fill two octavo pages with the description of a cobweb, and yet there would be much more than mere words in the description. There is a subtle color in his words, so that they mass up into very striking impressiveness, however poor or contracted the sub- ject itself may be. Mr. Beecher would be as unquotable a speaker as Mr. Gladstone but for the innumerable figures which crowd to his help. Mr. Gladstone has no rhetorical imagination ; he expounds — unravels — and anatomizes his subjects with a precisioD and fulness truly amazing, and with an eloquence as pellucid as it is massive and forceful, but there are no flowers, no figures, no hints of an infinite background. Mr. Beecher is just as copious in mere language, but then how tropical is the luxuriance of his imagination ! When he concludes it is rather out of deference to custom or convenience than because the subject is exhausted. My sober impression is that Mr. Beecher could preach every Sunday in the year from the first verse in Genesis, without giving any sign of intellectual exhaustion, or any failure of imaginative fire. It is in religious imagination — in the wonderful apocalypse of the heart — that he beats us all and leaves us panting in weakness and fear. Other men are great logicians (if it is possible for a logician to be great), but they are caged and bounded by wires, whereas Mr. Beecher is as a bird flying in the open firmament. Is he not, 300 HENRY WARD BEECHER. .therefore, logical ? The more so, unquestionably ; the more so because the greater includes the less, and parable is larger and truer than fact. Facts may have all the effect of lies, Mr. Beecher uses the fact as a starting-point, or as the ground on which he rests the ladder whose head reaches high as heaven. The text is as a handful of corn on the top of the mountains, the sermon is as the fruit thereof shaking like Lebanon. I have seen something like a hundred of Mr. Beecher's notes of sermons to be used by him in the pulpit, and I have sometimes wished that some of them could be lithographed and published along with the fully-reported sermon ; what a contrast would then be reveal- ed ! For a few lines the notes and sermon go together with toler- able evenness, but suddenly the sermon bounds away from the notes, and probably never returns ! In the notes you may meet an occasional etc., and it is curious to turn to the sermon to see how much was wrapped up in that hieroglyphic ; a whole idyl, mayhap ; or a thunderstorm ; or a burial service broken up by the resurrection. In such instances we see what I may call the riotous povi^er of Mr. Beecher's imagination, a power that revels in strength, and that grows in wealth by giving its wealth away. All this I say, as a mere reader of Mr. Beecher's sermons ; I never heard Mr. Beecher preach ; but having heard him on the plat- form, I can imagine in some degree what he must be in his in- spired moments in the pulpit, when he sees heaven opened and the Son of Man standing at the right hand of God ! Every now and then we hear that Mr. Beecher has changed his theological position, or that he has modified his faith, or that he has been struck down on the road to Damascus and seen a new glory which must be typified in new words. Let no man be mis- led by such gossip. Mr. Beecher can never be other than ortho- dox. A heart like his does not know how to be li.eretical. Like all persons whom it is fiot in the power of time to make old, he is always seeing a new specimen of butterflies, a new instance in ANALYSES OF HIS POWER, AND REMINISCENCES. 301 botany, a new tone of color in the morning or evening sky ; he is always coming home with a new incident, a fresh idea, or a bold proposition ; but knowing that he sees everything through his imagination, or passes everything through the zone of his affections, and that in his nature there is neither suspicion nor resentment, we may be perfectly sure that at the last as at the first, Mr. Beecher will be found at the Cross, saying, as few others can say, that there is no name given under heaven among men, but Christ's own, whereby men can be saved. Mr. Beecher can never accept a four-cornered theology, and personally I thank God that he cannot. A four-cornered theology is the greatest hindrance I know of to the spread of the kingdom of heaven. There are people who know where theology begins, where it ends, through what lines it passes, what particulars it includes, and how neatly it gathers into itself themselves and their particular families. They think that to allow a simicolon in the Bible is to imperil the doc- trine of inspiration, and to see any good in another Christian communion is to hobnob with the enemy of souls and to enter upon a course of dangerous compromise. Mr. Beecher accepts no such detestable opinion, and his revolt from it is often expressed in terras which to literal minds must sound like blasphemy. To the same literal minds — Heaven pity them — Mr. Beecher sometimes figures as "an imprudent man." We often hear this in certain English circles. From my point of view there is nothing that is not of a vicious kind to be much more deplored than a narrow prudence. Imprudence is sometimes the highest wisdom, as it certainly is often the noblest unselfishness. Such is the supposed imprudence of Mr. Beecher. If he had been more selfish, he would have been more prudent ; being wholly un- selfish, he has been apparently imprudent. I know many six- inch-long souls who are living in comfortable obscurity because they calculate the possible effect of every action, and are afraid that if they did anything unusual they would disturb the universe. 302 HENRY WARD BEECHER. To such persons what a miracle of imprudence Mr. Beecher must appear ! But to such persons we must not appeal for just judg- ment. They do not know the larger truth, and, therefore, they have not entered into the larger freedom. Mr. Beecher must be judged by other minds, and especially must be judged by another generation ; in half a century after his death the children of his persecutors will build and dect his tomb. I feel how inadequate are these few sentences, yet in writing them rather than allowing the opportunity to lapse, I feel that I am accepting an honor at the hands of my friends the editor and publishers of this memorial volume. As to Mr. Beecher's place in the estima- tion of British Christians I believe it is as high as ever. Here and there, as I have said, are prudent persons to whom the earth owes nothing, who may be uncertain about him, but as they are uncertain about everything else it really does not matter what they think about Mr. Beecher. If Mr. Beecher will visit England he will have accorded to him a reception which will show that America has produced one of the greatest oreachers that ever adorned the Christian pulpit. III. By CHARLES E. ROBINSON, D.D., Of Rochester, New York. Here are some reminiscences of Mr. Beecher, "pro or con." The subject is so kaleidoscopic, so many-sided, that it is diffi- cult to make the reflections permanent. If you could fix him as the photographer arranges one for a picture, fasten his head in the tongs and keep him in one position, it would be easier. But when you secure one reflection, the expression is changed, and you are ready to throw away your first impression. ANALYSES OF HIS POWER, AND REMINISCENCES. 303 No one person could write Dr. Lyman Beecher's biography ; hence the unique book which his children have given us, where we catch different views of him, as artists complete their ideas of form and proportion. It will be harder still to obtain any satisfactory picture of his son, Henry Ward. The time to write his life has not yet come. A dispassionate judgment of him can be secured only in a succeeding generation. We are too near to get the proper proportions. We are now too much affected by our strong prejudices or preferences. So that your portfolio is perhaps the only way in which the present impressions can be noted. The kind of letter you wish from me leads one entirely into personal recollections. I suppose that that is just what you desire to know ; in what way Mr. Beecher has touched my life. His brother, George, was my pastor in my childhood, and I can just recall a "red-letter day" in the parish when Dr. Lyman Beecher, Dr. Charles Beecher, and Henry Ward all preached in the morning, afternoon, and evening. But the first distinct impression which Henry Ward made upon me was in the P>e- mont campaign, that inauguration of the great political move- ment which made anti-slavery principles popular, and rallied to its standard the generous enthusiasm of youth. There were feat- ures of that campaign which one loves to recall. My home was in a Western city. I was to decide the all-important question, to which candidate should I give my first presidential vote ? Mr. Beecher's speeches and extracts from his sermons which reached me I can hardly recall here ; but they exerted a controlling influ- ence over that decision, appealing to my intellect, heart, and conscience. I was particularly attracted by the generosity, manliness, and humanity of his political principles. About that time came the great revival which spread through the whole country. Two noble souls, bound to me by ties of kindred and strong affection, were then members of Plymouth Church, and tlue deepening of 304 HENRY WARD BEECHER. tlieir religious life under the preaching of their pastor made a strong impression upon me. " Plymouth Collection " had just then appeared, the first, and among the best of its kind. The hymns we sang from that book, the echoes from those daily morning prayer-meetings in the lect- ure-room, which reached me, through correspondence with these friends, the snatches of " Lecture-room talks," sent me, in the same way, long before they were regularly reported fot' the papers, awakening and confirming my own Christian hope*, and giving a freshness to praise and prayer which were new to me, will explain the peculiar aifection which grew up in my heart for Mr. Beecher, although at that time I had never met him. This affec- tion, with all my decided dissent, since then, from his philosophy and interpretation of the Scriptures, has never wavered, and grew the stronger for the fiery trial through which he was called to pass. Then, during my seminary life, Avhen preachers and methods of preaching were the frequent theme of review or discussion, Mr. Beecher' s sermons began to reach us in the Independent. At that time his — what shall I call it — Neo-Platonic philosophy ? if adopted by him, had not affected his doctrine, so that Presby- terian theologues were not so much struck with his divergence from the generally received teachings of the Evangelical school as with the lightning-like flashes of thought and the steady glow of warm feeling with which the old truths were illuminated. The richness of his vocabulary was, I remember, a ceaseless marvel to us boys. He has contributed to the wealth of our language, not only by showing its unlimited capacities for varied expression, but by the coining of new words. But those Independent sermons made other impressions upon us. There were not a few who felt that they were led by them into closer fellowship and friendship with Jesus. Our blessed Lord was a real presence to him, a Friend to confide in, and a Lover to adore. I own freely that he has added in this way greatly to the wealth of my personal ANALYSES OF HIS POWER, AND REMINISCENCES. 305 experience of the reality of things unseen. This is the secret or one of the secrets of his power over men, and the remarkable warmth and vitality of his preaching. I am glad to have this opportunity of paying a grateful tribute to him for the way he led me, in my early ministry, to a " closer walk with God ;" a better comprehension of the inspiring, sympathizing friendship, which it is the privilege of every Christian to cherish for his Master. In the disappointments and the successes of the minis- try, in the trials and the superabundant joys, this has been to me more than I can tell. The garrulity of personal reminiscence carries me on to my first pastorate in one of the most beautiful valleys of Litchfield county, Connecticut. Ruskin's " Modern Painters" was my vade- jnecum just then. I remember hearing Mr. Beecher tell how much that book had disclosed nature to him. It was certainly a benefit which he transmitted ; for the exquisite rural beauty of that country parish was as much revealed to me by his summer letters from Lenox as by Mr. Ruskin. Those were the days when * ' Aurora Leigh, " " Sonnets from the Portuguese, ' ' and Brown- ing's " Men and Women," were almost new. The walks under the grand old elms of Woodbury or the hours on the banks of the trout streams or the solitudes on Orenans: rocks were all associated with friendly communings with these authors. And I remember with peculiar pleasure that those letters of Mr. Beecher's from Lenox were woven in with the other influences which lifted me into a greater enjoyment and apprecia- tion of the country life about me. The drone of the bee, the buzz of the fly in the lazy summer air, the far-off thud of the threshing flail, the soughing of the wind in the pines of Orcnang, Woodbury's Pineta, the emerald dome of the elms, the voiceful silences of nature, the glory of the morning, the fervors of noon, the splendors of sunset, and the silvery tenderness of the moonlight in that valley, are all in 19 «' 306 HENRY WARD BEECHER. some pleasant way, which I can hardly explain, associated with him. Not even the peculiar beauty of his present residence at Peek- skill, with the fine view of the Hudson, and the suggestion of Switzerland on the farther bank of the river, and the exquisite varieties of trees on his own grounds, has drawn from him such letters as he used to write from Lenox. Is there not as much of nature in Peekskill as in Berkshire ? Or is it October now instead of June ? At that time the country was plunged into the excitement and turmoil of the civil war. The ring of the martial music, as the boys gathered from the hills and went off to the army, alternated with the deeper quiet of the long waiting in the dreamy valley for news from the front. The aggravating " quiet along the Potomac " reached up into New England, and we fretted against the barriers of the hills. The North was not sure of its friends. The dominant party of England stung us with their lack of sym- pathy. Never shall I forget the exhilaration with which we read there in the hill country of Connecticut, Mr. Beecher's famous addresses in England, and particularly his speech at Liverpool. This country owes more to him for the great aid which he rendered our cause in the Mother-country than the generation now coming on the stage of action realizes. When the war was over, many who remembered the power and passion of his advocacy of the nation's cause did not understand his generous words and friendly attitude toward the South, and accused him of changing his principles. But others saw that he was true to himself. With slavery gone and its adherents beaten, it was a knight's chilvalrous feeling for a valiant foe which asserted itself and gave direction to his sympathies. Looking back upon it now after sixteen years, one must appreciate and honor it more than ever. It would be impossible to close this letter without a reference ANALYSES OF HIS POWER, AND REMINISCENCES. 307 to the time when scandal endeavored to blacken his good name. On returning from a six months' absence from the country in the fall of 1872, the air was thick with the slanderous charges which, to my unutterable indignation, that burns yet when I think of it, were made against Mr. Beecher. Other pens than mine can best describe the Christian spirit which he exemplified through all those days and years of trial that followed. In the summer of 1873 there began a series of vacation supplies with Plymouth Church, which made me more familiar with Mr. Beecher' s courage and his people's confidence in him than I could have been otherwise. Those who knew anything about it were greatly impressed with the way he controlled his people in their great anger and excite- ment, with his calm, forgiving spirit. But there was one night when the excitement could not be repressed ; Plymouth Church was packed with a loving and enthusiastic people to hear the report of the Investigating Committee. I sat with Mrs. Beecher where I could best see the great audience. The air was electric. Both smiles and tears could be easily summoned. I remember how we laughed when Mr. Halliday, wishing the sexton to turn on the gas, asked that we might * ' have a little more light from above," and how quickly the smiles were turned to hot, indignant tears at the thought of Mr. Beecher and his suffering family. It was a thing to see and never forget, when, at the close of the report, expressing an entire belief in the integrity of their pastor, the people rose at once, whitening the air with their waving handkerchiefs, while the noise of the weeping was almost equal to the sound of the rejoicing, though both tears and smiles expressed the same feeling. It was the instinctive outbreathing of years of affection for their pastor, it was a splendid testimony to the fidelity of the people through all that protracted trial of their faith and love. I could write on all night, but your portfolio will demand room 308 HENRY WARD BEECHER. for other and worthier articles than my letter. While frankly dissenting from some of Mr, Beecher's theological positions, I am glad to pay this slight tribute to him, and to express my grateful remembrance of what he has been to me, and my admiration of his gifts and his nature. IV. By HON. AMOS C. BARSTOW, Of Providence, R. I. Mr. Beecher's " Lectures to Young Men," written in his young life, while a pastor in Indiana, first introduced him to me. I have not read them since their first publication, and could not now give from memory even a synopsis of the topics discussed ; but I have a distinct remembrance of the strong impression which they made on my mind. Though born m neighboring States and at about the same time, and though we spent our youth in two principal New England cities not far apart, we had never met. He went West, and entering the ministry, had become the active and influential pastor of a large church. I, on my native heath, was engaged in manufactures and trade ; but at the same time had become the superintendent of a large Sabbath-school, and was so much interested in this work and in the young that I read with avidity everything which promised me any aid in it. This book put me in sympathy with a young, fresh, vigorous mind, whose thought was uplifting, whose style was pictorial and captivating, and whose spirit was morally and spiritually magnetic. So I watched his course, and looked for other and fresh utterances from his lips or pen. In 184*7 he came to Brooklyn to become the pastor of Plymouth Church, where, on a larger theatre, his eloquence and faithfulness as a preacher, his ANALYSES OF HIS POWER, AND REMINISCENCES. 309 love of liberty, and his generous sympathy with suffering human- ity everywhere, soon attracted the attention and commanded the admiration of good men throughout the land. Being actively engaged in the great Christian works and moral reforms, which he advocated with such eloquence and zeal, I soon made his personal acquaintance. I met him in our great religious convocations — in temperance and anti-slavery conventions ; and later on in those political gatherings during the Fremont campaign of 1856, which developed and crystallized in so large a degree the moral opposition of the people to the system of American slavery. All know how distinguished a part he bore in the great struggles for the deliverance of the land from drunkenness and slavery. When the proud and imperious spirit of slavery touched the lips of so many merchants and the tongues of so many Northern editors, college professors, and Gospel ministers with a kind of moral paralysis, Plymouth pulpit was never dumb, and the columns of the Independent, of which he was editor, or the Lyceum platform which he often filled and graced, were never silent, nor did either utter an uncertain sound. His heroic courage, when to my persona] knowledge it cost something to be brave, and his manly sympathy for the poor, even of a despised race, no less than his eloquent utterances, commanded my homage, and are still remem- bered with affectionate gratitude. You ask me for facts and incidents of interest in Mr. Beecher's public life. The advice which he was said to have given to a mercantile firm, members of his congregation, who were threatened with the loss of their large Southern trade, because of their adherance to anti- slavery principles — "Tell them that your goods are for sale and not your principles''^ — marks the spirit of the man during those troublous times, when so many Northern merchants waited to know of their Southern masters what they should think or speak, and when and how ! 310 HENRY WARD BEECHER. Sitting near him at a great temperance banquet given to John B. Gough, in New York, twenty-five or more years since, I saw a lady pass to him a large plate of jelly, which was quivering in all its length, with the query, " Mr. Beecher, will you have some jelly ?" His ready response was, " I don't know about that. It looks as though it had delirium tremens !" To show the fertility of his resources, the celerity of his mental movements, and the peculiarity of his methods, let me give a few facts which have fallen under my own observation. Those who have heard him often and observed him closely, know how little he confines himself to his notes, even when they are full ; and that some of his most brilliant utterances are interjected into and sometimes supplant portions of his written discourse. On one occasion, when lecturing before a Lyceum, he was seen to turn over three or four leaves of his manuscript without read- ing. At the close of the lecture he was asked what was on those leaves. He answered, " I don't know. This is a new lecture, and I have hardly got the hang of it. The next time I give it, perhaps I will read those leaves." On another occasion, about twenty-five years since, when announced to preach before the Society of Missionary Inquiry in Brown University, on the evening before Commencement, a friend called at the hotel to accompany him to church, and found him in his room, with the table from which he had just risen covered with manuscript. Mr. Beecher explained. He had found no time to write a sermon, and had proposed to extemporize, but reaching the city in the early morning, and feeling a little afraid to trust himself, had spent the entire day in writing, the result of which was the twenty sheets before him, the ink on the last not then entirely dry. On another occasion, when here to lecture, I sent my card to his room half an hour before the time, when he asked to be ANALYSES OF HIS POWER, AND REMINISCENCES. 311 excused for a few moments as he was reading his manuscript. When he came down he apologized for the delay, and added that he left his room before he had completed the reading. Knowing from him a week before that he had not then selected his theme, 1 remarked that as he had written the lecture so recently, I supposed he would remember it all. He surprised me by saying, *' I did not write it !" I remarked, you do not wish me to understand- that you will read another man's lecture. " No !" he said, " but I had not time to do the manual labor, so I took a short-hand writer into my room, and while I extemporized the lecture, he took it in short-hand, and has since written it out in a plain, clear hand. There it is, and I have not yet read it all." This lecture, with such a history, was regarded by those who heard it as a remarkably fine one. When speaking to a friend in Brooklyn, a few years since, of these peculiarities in Mr. Beecher's mental methods, this friend took from his table a brief of Mr. Beecher's last sermon, written on several pages of letter sheet, and handing it to me said, take it home with you. I said no ; Mr. Beecher would hardly excuse such an act. Yes, he would, said the friend. He will never use it again. He always makes fresh preparation for his sermons. He left it here purposely. This reminds me of an incident which occurred about twenty-five years since. I was in the White Mountains for the second or third time with some of my family, and going up Mount Wash- ington from the Crawford House with a party of ten or fifteen on horseback — a ride of four hours — we met Mr. Beecher and his brother Thomas with other mutual friends on the summit. This Avas his first visit to the mountains. He had come up the carriage road from the Glen, but was to go down with our party to the Crawford. Learning that the ride down was a grand onp — more than half of it being down the steep, bare side of Washington, and over the bare ridges of two other mountains — Mr. Beecher 312 HENRY WARD BEECHER. desired to ride down alone, being willing, without guide, to trust the instincts of his horse to keep the trail. Selecting a fast- walking horse, and starting a little in advance of the large party, he was soon out of sight. While we were descending the steep slope from the bare summit of Mount Wash- ington in Indian file, by zigzag path, a single horseman was seen following far in the rear, who it was known did not belong to our party. The guide called a halt, and leaving his horse clambered by shorter path up the rough mountain side, until he could hail the stranger, who answered the hail by the query, " Is Rev. Henry Ward Beecher of your paity ?" Being told that he had gone ahead and was then out of sight, the stranger expressed his regret ; but having come up to our party, and concluded to go on, we made room for him to pass us in the narrow trail. On reaching the Crawford House at the close of the day, we found the stranger, who proved to be a deacon of one of the churches in Littleton — a village at the foot of the mountains, eighteen miles distant. Bcin«^ .'....1 *J'' r ,//>'/■./ V"* APR 2 1935 0 320 HENRY WARD BEECHER. tliouglit ; tliey batter against the barriers of the past and the pres- ent because they see springing life beyond the bounded space ; they are misunderstood because the time to judge them has not come ; they rise above petty criticisms because they have a broad outlook and have faith in the future greatness of God's world and people ; they cannot be sectarian ; they are not watchful of their own personal interests; they help men because they live largely and toward God ; they are not free from mistakes and faults and are liable to be ensnared by designing men. Such an one is Henry Ward Beecher in my thought. As true a Christian as lives, as pure a soul as thinks, as simple and trustful a spirit as God has in the world. Learned in the things of spirit- ual life, impulsive with the breath of the Divine Spirit, bating shams and all that is false and oppressive, loving the brotherhood and blessing those that curse and praying for those who despite- fully use him, such is the man as he shows himself to one who differs from him often theologically and often on questions of polity, but who has never lost confidence in the sweetness and beauty of his inner life, and whose witness of his tenderness and forbearance as shown through the years of trouble in the ministe- rial body of which he is a member, has often brought to mind the example of the aged John, saying, " Little children, love one an- other." All estimate of his life will be faulty that is made within a quar- ter of a century after he is taken to the skies, for his seed- thought and influence will not mature speedily, for it affects principles and truths that are to be the life and joy of ages to come. His prayers are the transparent glass through which the whole working of his spirit may be seen, and those who knelt with him at morning devotions in the Catskills, on a summer excursion, will ever recall with a thrill of emotion the marvellous glory that crowned that mercy-seat. ANALYSES OF HIS POWER, AND REMINISCENCES. 321 VII. By EDWARD P. INGERSOLL, D.D., Of Brooklyn, New York. Thirty years ago, a college literary society, of which I was a member, debated the question : " Which is father of the most brains, old Mr. Burleigh or old Dr. Beecher? " Lyman Beecher carried the day, both as to the quantity and quality of offspring. The logic of events has proved our boyish wisdom. Mistoria. testis temporum. In the midst of this Eschol cluster is Henry Ward Beecher, the most prominent and in many regards the most gifted of them all. It sometimes seems to 'me as if Mr. Beecher had lived forever. In my early boyhood I used to read about him. In my early manhood I occasionally heard him preach and lecture, and was wont to look upon him as a mighty Jehu — a fast but a safe driver ; higher still, as a fiery John the Baptist, preaching repentance to a nation. And now, though I am in njiddle life, he is still one of the foremost men of the land ; strong, clear, aggress- ive, his sympathies untouched by age. " His eye is not dimmed nor his natural force abated." His nature is wonderful in its com- binations. Such a marvellous harmony of body, mind, and soul ! So full of warm blood ! So kindly and genial ! So observant of the little things of nature and the little things of life that are transpiring ! How can such a man be a student ? And yet upon a more intimate acquaintance you find his intellect is finel}' poised. Every wheel and every cog is ready for work. He is like one of those old-time New England schoolmasters, who had eyes in the back of his head. He is an Argus, and every picture caught upon the retina is transferred by the quick chemistry of his mind with unfading colors, and hung in the gallery of his memory. What many wise men toil for he seizes without the tardy processes of syllogisms. There is, too, an " over-soul " in him which makes 20 322 HENRY WARD BEECHER. him kindred to everybody and to everything, A few years ago I was making my Monday trip to New York by the way of Fulton Ferry. It was a bleak winter day, and as is my wont, when a storm is raging, I hurried through the cabins to the front,, and there, standing well forward alone in the storm, was Mr. Beecher. I stood for a moment near him, hesitating to speak,, but presently seeing through the driving snow a sea-gull piercing its way against the wind, I touched him and said, pointing up- ward, "See that." "Yes," he said, solemnly, "he is mine.'* " Yours ?" I said, inquiringly. " Yes, I'm joint heir," and the color deepened upon his face and his eyes moistened as he fol- lowed the bird in its brave flight. God often raises up a ma?n for a specific work who is by no means perfect. Of Cyrus he said : " I girded thee, though thou hast not known me." Of others, such as Jacob and Elijah and Peter, there are characteristics which we cannot commend, and yet which we would be slower to condemn if our souls were fired as were theirs. With all his wonderful power and poise of nature, Mr. Beecher seems to me sometimes like the hunter of the wild chamois, who follows so swiftly and so far that he cannot get back without bruises. He is apt to forget, while aglow with a great truth and expounding it for the blessing of men, that any- thing else is true. He seems for the time to ignore its relation- ship to other truths, and even to disallow the same truth in other relations, thereby giving only half truths. His mind is analogical rather than logical. To him everything beautiful is a picture of divine realities, and he sweeps in too much of earthly resemblances as he burns with eagerness to persuade and comfort men. His methods of startling speech, his iconoclastic way of breaking old forms which to him have no life, seem sometimes ruthless ; they are so, especially when he swings so long and strong a staff as to bruise the good men who stand about the time-honored institu- tions of the Church. Nor can I agree with some of his views of ANALYSES OF HIS POWER, AND REMINISCENCES. 325 4 divine truth ; but I have reason to believe that the printed rep- resentations of his belief have often been gross misrepresenta- tions, and this especially because his statements have been broken from their moorings ; have been severed from the connections with which they must stand to be fairly understood. After he is gone, he will be measured as a philanthropist, as an orator, as a friend, as a preacher, as a man, by the great void he makes, and then he will be acknowledged to have been one of the rarest, truest, and most princely of men. He lives now misunder- stood by cold, phlegmatic natures, justly criticised, I think, by those who sweep the whole horizon of revealed truth, but, on the whole, he lives a great beating heart from which suffering men and the Christian world receive fresh, strong throbs of life. We love him because we believe he loves the truth with an unfeigned love. We grasp his hand, believing him loyal to the Master, with a holy ardor, saying that and only that which for the time he believes to be true, everlastingly true ; and hating shams as only they can hate them who are filled with a sense of enduring realities. It may be said of him, for the most part, " He has touched nothing he did not adorn." Hail to this pioneer ! All honor to this patriot ! Love and reverence for this ' ' great heart. ' ' Serus in coelum redeat. VHI. Bt J. 0. PECK, D.D.,' Pastor of Hanson Place Methodist Episcopal Church, Brooklyn, New York. Men have differed in their estimate of the ability, excellence, and usefulness of Paul, Moses, Luther, Calvin, Wesley, and most fiercely of all, in their opinions concerning Jesus Christ. Henry Ward Beecher could not, and probably would not desire to escape 326 HENRY WARD BEECHER. this diversity of liuman judgment. Any man who shakes the world, and, like the apostles, turns it upside down, will be loved and hated, glorified and denounced. This is one of the sequences of wielding large power. In Africa, the hunters sometimes chance upon a spot where the wild rice is all trampled down, the undergrowth is tangled and torn, and a huge trail looks as if the army of Hannibal had just marched past on a conquering cam- paign. They know by the signs that they are in the vicinity of a herd of elephants which have lately passed that way ! When I look at the life-work of Henry Ward Beecher for about forty years, preaching, lecturing, storming the American Bastile of Slavery, thrilling us at home, and cowering unfriendly audiences abroad, with his trumpet-blasts of patriotism for the preservation of the Union, the broken boughs and trampled wild rice and huge trail he has made in American history compel me to exclaim, "A giant has passed this way !" I realize how utterly impossible it is for me to portray Mr. Beecher. He is so many- sided in genius, so kaleidoscopic in the play of his great powers, that only another Beecher could make a just portraiture of a Beecher. Who can give a complete word picture of Niagara ? It must be seen and felt ! It must take its awful leap before our eyes, thunder in our ears, and spring its rainbows above our heads ! It brings the drops of dew to my forehead to attempt to think around this magnificent man ! I shall only try to represent how he impresses me, not assuming to characterize him dogmati- cally. And first permit me to say that while I admire and love Henry Ward Beecher, I do not esteem him a perfect man, or a model theologian. He often perplexes, and sometimes vexes me ! I don't believe all he says and teaches. But then other people don't believe all I say and teach ! I pity them in their obtuseness of course ! There is onl}' one infallible theologian in the world, the Pope ! Yet Luther voiced a great fact when he declared that every man at the bottom is a little Pope. Every man is so sure ANALYSES OF HIS POWER, AND REMINISCENCES. 337 that he is right. " Orthodoxy is my doxy : heterodoxy is other people's doxy." This assumption of infaUibility in theological dogma, with its accompanying uncharity, pains me. For no man knows that his or his denomination's interpretation of the Bible expresses absolutely the mind of God in the Word, so that his creed includes all truth and excludes all error. We are all heretics at the best ! While I heartily accept the creed and believe the doctrines of my own denomination as the best expression of the truths of Holy AVrit, I dare not say that I know that we are altogether right, and others wrong wherein they differ from us. I believe they are, but only God knows ! Now because I dare not assume infallibility, I dare not pronounce Mr. Beecher a heretic wherein he does not agree with my creed. At all events I will not stone him until I get to heaven, and no longer see through a glass darkly ! Theology, the science of God, must ever remain an incomplete science, since no finite mind will ever comprehend the Infinite. Mysteries will ever hang around our profoundest con- ceptions of God and His government, as clouds skirt the horizon. The oracle declared Socrates to be the wisest man in Athens because he knew that he did not know all things. Nescience is often wisdom. Therefore I shall not attempt to prove Mr. Beecher theologically unsound. My conviction is that he is more Dearly orthodox in his theology than the impressions of his pecuiiai methods of putting things indicates. Merely recording that I do not agree with my understanding of some of his theolog- ical views, I leave out any discussion of them. I. Mr. Beecher as a man. 1. The foundation of all he is, and all he has done is his phys- ical system. Without that he never could have been what he is, or have done his work. The basis of many of the finest qualities of raind and heart is in the physical organization. The effective wielding of these higher forces is almost wholly in proportion to the effectiveness of the body. The calibre of the gun largely 328 HENRY WARD BEECHER. determines the effectiveness of the ammunition. Hercules in a rotten boat would make a poor race ! Mr. Beecher has one of the best animal organizations in this generation. He has those quali- ties of fineness, elasticity, susceptibility, vigor, nerve, and endur- ance— I beg pardon, but in one word — thoroughbred. This is partly inherited and partly cultivated in him. He has done immense service to this and coming generations by teaching them how to develop and maintain the highest physical conditions, and thus to be fitted for the best work. I conceive that his undiminished popularity and power and freshness are due as much, aye more, to his unimpaired physical forces than to anything else. He is thus a perpetual admonition to the younger clergy, who read his Yale lectures and sermons, not to waste their physical resources, nor by neglecting the laws of hygiene to force prema- ture superannuation. The buoyancy and elasticity of his tempera- ment have their roots deep in his physical organization. In short, that is the rich soil out of which has grown and blossomed the thousand beautiful creations of his brain. 2. But this superb stalk is crowned with a more magnificent flower. His brain is not only massive but luminous — an intellect- ual kohinoor, ' ' a mountain of light. ' ' There may be a large brain — large and coarse as a sunflower. The massivencss of his brain, how- ever, is not more remarkable than the exquisite fineness of its quality. He has all the insight, imagination, and emotion of a poet. He is a prose-poet of great brilliance. But one quality of his mind has increasingly impressed me the longer I have known and read Mr. Beecher — his subtle metaphysics. He is not a metaphysician so much by intention as by necessity. It is in the texture of his mind. He is not forever parading his metaphysics to invite your admiration of the polished tools with which he builds his masterpieces. He is more anxious to have you enraptured with the finished temple of manhood, echoing with praise of God, than to have you captivated with the scaffolding. ANALYSES OF HIS POWER, AND REMINISCENCES. 329 But his masterly sermons could never be erected without that metaphysical scaflEolding. While the capacity of his intellect, from which he has poured for forty years one incessant stream of golden thought, fills one with amazement at the vastness of his resources in himself, Avhile the fertility and diversity of his genius are a perpetual marvel, the undimmed brilliancy, the unfading beauty of his eloquence are no less a source of grateful wonder- ment. His sermons are richer and more chastely beautiful now than in any preceding decade. He has poured forth more strong and beautiful thought during his public life in all the range of his pulpit, platform, lecture-room utterances and published writings, than any other man of the century, and yet the gems hang im- pearled on every utterance to-day as richly and beautifully as in any period of the past. Perhaps the one quality of his mind that makes him peerless and almost unapproachable is his power of illustration. In this he is unique. His strong individuality is not more marked in any quality of his mind than in the one just mentioned. Let one read promiscuously fifty illustrations from a half-score of the most brilliant preachers of to-daj-, on both continents, and a reader of Mr. Beecher will detect his as readily as a diamond connoisseur will discover " old mine" stones. Not that his illustrations are more beautiful and finished — they are often homely and rough as granite — but that their force and apt- ness, their clearness and strikingness bear the unmistakable stamp of his mint. We say not that his illustrations, many of them, are lacking in beauty. On the other hand, multitudes of them are unsiirpassed in exquisite beauty. But their appositeness is even more marked than their elegance. The range and inexhaustible freshness of his illustrations are remarkable. Perhaps I should not be transcending propriety, nor challenging dissent, in saying that in illustration of truth he is more like Christ than any other preacher on either side of the Atlantic. 3. Socially Mr. Beecher is charming. He is the farthest 380 HENRY WARD BEECHER. remove from being aristocratic or self-assertive among Lis fel- low-clergy of all denominations. Who that has mingled with him at ministerial clubs or associations, will not recall his gen- erous cordiality to all ? Perhaps popinjays, and peacocks, and patronizing bores have felt that he was not very sociable ! These he lets alone, unless they force from him a Parthian arrow ! Then they let liim alone ! His sparkling wit and humor, com- bined with an overflowing good-nature, and chastened by a gen- uine kindness, make him king of the feast in social hours. There men love him as elsewhere they admire him. 4. As a Christian, he perplexes many who know him only by reputation. The current conviction in some quarters, that he is theologically oblique ; the overplay of wit and pleasantry in the pulpit occasionally ; the apparent lack of seriousness and reverence for the traditional solemnity of the preacher's function which shocks some people ; the applause and laughter which sometimes greet his bursts of eloquent indignation or appeal, have created somewhat of an impression that he is not a spiritual man. My personal association with him in the later years of his minis- try compel me to testify to the conviction of his deep spirituality. His ordinary prayers before sermon are the most extraordinary evidences of real intimate communion with God. He seems talk- ing with God face to face, not as a pleading mendicant, but as a conscious and acknowledged son. And I know (how, I need not say) that his public j^rayers are but the reflection of his sincere abiding communion with God in private life. Never will the members of the Brooklyn Clerical Union forget a " conversa- tion " he gave us, by request, in May, 1880, on the relation of private to public prayer in a minister's life. As he spoke of his personal experience and of how he cultivated and fed his spiritual life, we all felt that the speaker was one who dwelt in the Holy of Holies in rich, blessed communion with God. When asked if those remarkable public prayers were prepared or studied before- ANALYSES OF HIS POWER, AND REMINISCENCES. 331 hand, he repUed, " No ! I never know a word I shall utter. All true prayer is an inspiration of the Holy Spirit. Sometimes I have a consciousness of great sympathy with men in their burdens, sorrows, and struggles. Then, I shall be likely to be led to pray in that direction. At other times, I am full of thoughts of the dear ones who have left us, and then I shall probably pray about heaven. That is the only hint I have of what my prayers may be. Real prayer, I repeat, is an inspiration." I may here sum up by saying that my conviction, as the result of personal intercourse and thoughtful study of his writings, is, that Mr. Beecher is a man of real deep spirituality. Perfect in life he is not ; for he has his share of faults, and has made his share of mistakes, and has sinned his share of transgressions, but that he has sought to live sincerely to the glory of God and labor earnestly for the good of man, I fully believe. An honest Christian, but not fault- less, I believe he is, and has always striven to be. A man dear to God, and to whom God is inexpressibly and savingly precious, is my conviction of Henry Ward Beecher as a Christian man. II. As a Preacher, I hesitate not to say that, in my opinion, Henry Ward Beecher is the greatest preacher in the world to-day, and is one of the score of greatest preachers in all history. Other men have excelled him in single points of strength. As a theological preacher I should not rank him high. In the severely logical line of preaching he is not pre-eminent. He does not aim at that kind of sermonizing. In evangelistic preaching he is not to be compared with George Whitefield. However, White- field's printed sermons are not to be compared with Mr. Beecher's discourses. The former are not remarkable, while the latter are sparkling and fresh as a May morning, at the same time that they are vigorous as mountain breezes. Mr. Beecher is a great teacher, more than simply a great orator, in the pulpit. He is a natural orator, but oratory is subordinated to teaching. He aims to build up Christian manhood. Men must be educated by religious 332 HENRY WARD BEECHER. truth, and this demands an inspiring teacher. His thought is not crude, but refined. What he reads he assimilates, so that every- thing he utters seems as original as if no one else had ever discov- ered the same thought. He has borrowed little from books, and his sermons are evolved from his own fertile brain. He reads much, but digests all. His sermons are pre-eminently practical. His object being to build men up in a large, broad, many-sided manhood, all his sermons and lecture-room talks are for use in daily life. His sermons are meant for service, and not for exhibi- tion. Metaphysical in subtle unfolding of truth, lightning-like in vividness of portrayal, picturesque and grand in illustration, pathetic or thrilling in application, eloquent and swaying in the power of utterance, he is the greatest preacher that America has ever produced. His influence has been large, outside of Plymouth Church, on the ministry and educated minds of the generation. All will not appreciate that influence at the same value. It has stimulated intellect to think independently ; it has worked to produce a larger catholicity ; it has glorified the father- hood of God and exalted the brotherhood of man. For greatness, brilliancy, and resources of pulpit power he is unequalled. HI. As a Lecturer, discussing political, social, and educational questions before the large constituency of the platform, to be repeated by the press, he has wielded a vast and salutary influence in moulding the thought of his age. His popularity and power on the platform have been very great, but have never equalled, much less eclipsed, his popularity and power in the pulpit. He has been a moral force in our civilization. IV. As a Patriot, he has engraven himself for immortality in American history. He has plead for the poor, the oppressed, and the despised, with more eloquence than he would have plead for his own life at the stake. He began his ministry with espous- ing the cause of the slave, when to be an abolitionist was to be execrated. He continued that devotion through storm and obloquy till the last fetter was broken, and the last chattel was an enfran- i ANALYSES OF IIIS POWER, AND REMINISCENCES. 3o3 chised citizen of tlie Republic. In the galaxy of illustrious philanthropists his name shines conspicuously. The wrongs of the African, the Indian, and the Mongolian, injustice to woman and the laboring classes, national intelligence, equal rights for all men, and the great cause of temperance, have always evoked his eloquent voice and pen. The service of humanity and his country with him has been the service of God. The distin- guished ability and grand effectiveness with which he served the cause of the Union during the Rebellion, by his impassioned loyalty at home, and with which he even more gloriously defended the undivided Republic before scowling and howling disunion sympathizers in Great Britain, entitle him to the ever- lasting gratitude of America. Not till the last African face has disappeared from American society — not till the memory of our struggle for an undivided Repubic fades out of history — not till the ingratitude of an effete and decaying nation consigns the loyalty and heroism of her noblest patriots to oblivion — will the sturdy and chivalric patriotism of Mr. Beecher be forgotten ! As an inspiring force in the history of the Republic his fame is assured. When we review his great qualities of manhood, eloquent on the platform, peerless in the pulpit, Christ-like in philanthropy, Roman in his patriotism, we are forced to exclaim, " One of the few immortal names, that were not born to die." He is loved almost to idolatry, and eulogized almost to apotheosis by hosts of ardent friends. Of course he has not escaped the poisoned shafts of foes ; but, like the now revered and sainted Dr. Payson and Archbishop Fenelon, whom the hounds bayed at while living, but whose sweet fame by Divine providence is a sacred depositum of humanity and history, when his foes are forgotten, the name of Henry Ward Beecher will shine as the stars for ever and ever ! "Nothing need cover his high fame but heaven ; No ijyramids set off bis memories ; But the eternal substance of his greatness, To WHICH I LEAVE HIM." 334 HENRY WARD BEECHER. IX. Bv PETER MACLEOD, Of Glasgow, Scotland. It was, I think, in the Autumn of 1863 that Mr. Beecher called on me in Glasgow. He had visited the Continent, spent some time in London, and wished to see a little of Scotland before his departure for home. He had fixed his passage from Liver- pool, and only a few days were left for Scotland. But, as Burns says, "The best laid schemes of mice and men gang aft a-gley. " Little did Mr. Beecher know the ordeal through which he wae to pass, or the results on the public mind which he was to leave behind him before he sailed from our shores. He appeared to me much downcast, very moody, grieved, and home-sick. The Southern Confederates at that time were at the best, steadily advancing North toward Pennsylvania. The Northern generals appeared unequal to Lee and Jackson ; and on the whole the prospect looked dark and ominous. Mr. Beecher never for a moment lost faith in the ultimate issue ; but the sad news of the slaughter of his countrymen vexed him sore. He could not speak on the subject or look across the Atlantic without his eyes filling. This, coupled with the general apathy, indifference, or opposition which he had met on his travels from press and people in the cause nearest to his heart, filled him with chagrin, if not disgust. He was very taciturn. He had just listened to Brougb am's scathing speech agaist the North, in Edinburgh. He arrived in Glasgow on Friday evening, and on Saturday he was urged to preach on Sunday, but refused on the ground that it was only to satisfy " the animal heat and pressure of curiosity," he had been asked. On being plied further, he said, ** Rathe? ANALYSES OF HIS POWER, AND REMINISCENCES. 335 than appear obstinate, lie would address a prayer-meeting quietly,'* but on being told that the evening papers were all now published, and that no notice of the sermon could be given, so that there would only be the regular congregation, he at length somewhat reluctantly consented to preach in the morning. It was remarked that the time was short for preparation, but that likely he had brought some sermons with him ; whereupon he replied, " I never look after a bullet when once it is fired." The news had somehow got wing on Sunday morning, so nmch so that even the pulpit stairs were crowded to such an extent that it was with difficulty he could wend his way up to the pulpit. He preached for upward of an hour ; and the sermon was one of the noblest ever delivered in that church. Not long before Thomas Binney, of London, had preached three sermons in the same pulpit, but at the close of Beecher's discourse a distinguished minister present whispered into my car, "That's worth Binney 's three I'" The senior deacon of the church, who was a little chary about Beecher preaching in that pulpit, in consequence of the warlike qualities in which the papers had represented him, said at the close, " He is the Prince of Preachers." I may add that I have heard Beecher often preach, but never with such power before or since as that day. His text was from Philippians 2 : 4-11, " Look not every man on his own things, but every man also on the things of ■, others. Let this mind be in you, which was in Christ Jesus, ■ who being in, etc., etc." \ number of Christian people gathered round Mr. Beecher, and on Monday morning a public breakfast was got up to his honor by the Scottish Temperance League, in the large rooms of the Cobden Hotel. This too was crowded. After breakfast the chairman gave an address, referring to what his father. Dr. Lyman Beecher, had done for Temperance, what his sister, Mrs. Harriet Beecher Stowe, had done against slavery, and what he himself had done and was doing as the advocate of liberty and human rights. Mr. Beecher in a long speech replied seria- 336 HENRY WARD BEECHER. tim to eacli of the points ; but when lie came to the question of slavery and the war and to the defence of the North, it was like the irruption of a long pent up volcano. Such an avalanche of burning oratory had seldom, if ever, been heard by any of the persons present. When several of the ministers in the company made speeches after him, one gentleman remarked, "That they all appeared like children beside him." Mr. Beecher invited questions to be asked for any further information they wished on the subject. After a good many questions were asked and satis- factorily answered, one decent, quiet-looking gentleman asked in a calm, confidential tone, " Now, Mr. Beecher, do you really think that tariffs had not a good deal to do with the disruption of the South ?" " If any man asked that question in the United States, he would be put in a strait-jacket right off," replied Beecher. Mr, Beecher's speech was telegraphed to London ; and next morning the Times was down upon him and his cause with a slashing editorial. This only seemed to rouse Beecher, and when he was urged by many friends of the North who had gathered around him to give somewhat similar addresses before he left to enlighten the British people on the whole question in dispute between the North and the South, he at last consented to give five lectures — one in Glasgow and one also in Liverpool, Manchester, and London, leaving a day for travelling between each of the cities. All he had intended to see of Scotland was now given up. Persons high in rank and in authority were telegraphed to that he would not be able to fulfil his promise to visit them. As he said himself, " Now for the work, and off with the coat, and may God help me." Meetings to be held in each of the cities were speed- ily arranged by the local friends of the North, and advertised for their respective days. The die was now cast and the campaign fairly opened. Liverpool and Glasgow were the worst places he had to encounter, because the Clyde and the Mersey furnished blockade- ANALYSES OF HIS POWER, AND REMINISCENCES. 337 runners, and other mercantile interests were also involved. On the day of his Glasgow lecture the city was emblazoned with large posters of what Beecher had said and what he had never said against Great Britain. A general excitement prevailed, and arrangements were made to secure the peace in case of a row. Beecher was spoken to in reference to the law that regulates public meetings. He listened quietly to what was said, and then giving an emphatic slap on his thigh, " If I can't keep them in order 1 am not fit for the place. ' ' Long before the hour the City Hall was crammed, and thousands could not gain admission. It was with great diflS- culty that Beecher" himself made his way through the dense mass of people to the Hall. Baillie Govan, who was appoint- ed Chairman, amid a storm of interruptions attempted to open the meeting. The Rev. Dr. William Anderson, a great fa- vorite on the Glasgow platform, had been appointed to in- troduce Mr. Beecher ; but, after a few preliminary sentences, was obliged to sit down, so uproarious, was the audience. It was problematical at this stage whether the lecture would be allowed to go on. After a short lull in the tempest, Mr. Beecher sprang to the front of the platform, and with a good- natured, kindly countenance, depicted the sublime beauty of our Scottish scenery through which he had passed, the heroism of our Scottish warriors, the world-wide fame of our bards and poets with such glowing eloquence, that a spontaneous burst of applause followed. This looked well ; but it was only temporary, for as Mr. Beecher proceeded to the main question — viz., a vindication of the government and the North against the rebellion of the South — this was by no means so palatable. For the first twenty or thirty minutes, indeed, it brought forth repeated storms of disapprobation, so much so that once he said, " that he would sit down-and rest until they got the hissing over." During the last hour, however, he had it all his own way. As a gentleman 338 HENRY WARD BEECHER. remarked," lie appeared like a driver having complete command of his four-in-liand team. " The exceeding readiness with which he retorted upon the persons who hurled their questions at him, turn- ing the laugh in every instance against the questioner, was a mar- vel of dialectic skill, and astonished everybody. Some one cried out exultantly, " that the South was beating the North." " Yes," replied Mr. Beecher, " and when we bring them back to allegiance, we shall think more than ever of them for the pluck they are showing." The cry of the majority then arose, " You shall never bring them back.'^ " But we shall bring them back, ' ' reiterated Mr, Beecher. ' ' Never ! never !' ' was the almost unanimous cry. Beecher saw it was useless to continue this lung warfare, and he naively told them a story which tliis contest between him and his audience reminded him of, and which put them all into good humor and made them laugh. Beecher took his advantage and calmly but firmly said, " We shall bring them back,^'' and went on with his lecture before they got time to reiterate their " never. ''^ As Mr. Beecher was proceed- ing he said something that looked like a touch of boasting, when an angry gentleman cries out, " Oh, you are great boasters in America." " Yes," replied Mr. Beecher, " we can do a trifle at that too ; at least we do as much as to show what nation we sprung from." At this time cotton was scarce and the demand great ; so a gentleman cries out, " Tell us when the war shall be over." " That depends," replied Beecher, " partly on how long you continue to give your sympathy to the South ; but as for us," he continued with deepening emphasis, " the war shall not cease so long as there is a slave in America on whom the sun of heaven can shine." Then another cried, " You need not waste your time telling us about slavery, we hate slavery as much as you." " So everybody tells me whenever I meet them, that they hate slavery ; but for all your professions, strange to say, you are all caught in very suspicious company with your arms ANALYSES OF HIS POWER, AND REMINISCENCES. 339 round the slaveholders' necks." Another interposed with, " I have been in the South and seen with my own eyes that the slaves are well treated. They get plenty to eat, are well clothed, and are allowed to sing and dance at night as much as they please." To this Mr. Beecher quaintly replied, " I have a pig at home ; she gets as much as she can eat, and as much litter as she can use, and I allow her to grunt as much as she pleases ; but still she is my pig." " Why not let the South go ? The country is large enough for you both," cries another. " All very well for you to speak, who live in an island that America could put in her skirt pocket ; but if you knew how our mountains go and how our rivers run, you would not talk so. Besides, if we were divided. Slavery on the one side and Liberty on the other, we would require a stand- ing army to watch each other. No, no ! we don't want the European system of standing armies to eat up a tenth of the produce of the land. Besides, standing armies are dangerous things; when a boy gets a knife, he's aye whittling with it." " But what will you do with your army when the war is over ?" " When our work is done in the field, they will return to their counter, their college, and their plough from whence they came, just as snow melts away at the bidding of spring." Another cried, " W^e don't sympathize with slavery, but we go for the South because they are the weaker party." " Go then and sympathize with the devil, he was the weakest party also when he rebelled and was turned out of heaven. Yours is a good enough argument for school boys ten years of age. Hold a string between them and see who is the strongest ; but when the princi- ples of Liberty and Slavery are the questions, it is a shame for a man of your age to talk that way." Such were a few of the interruptions and questionings which the lecturer had to encounter during the first half hour ; the rest of the time, as I have said, he had it all his own way ; the ques- tioners were dumb. At last the voice ceased, and the people 21 3-40 HENRY WARD BEECHER. dispersed — some convinced, others staggered or disarmed, most to take fresh stock of their convictions. Mr. Beecher left next morn- ing for Edinburgh to deUver his next lecture ; from thence he proceeded to Liverpool, Manchester, and London. In each of the cities he defended the principles and policy of the American government against the secessionists vrith marvellous power and tact. The British people began to see the case more clearly ; the press became more subdued as it prepared to wheel round ; and the Alabamas and blockade-runners building on the Mersey and the Clyde were suddenly stopped by the government by orders from Whitehall. Mr. Beecher's days in Britain were now numbered ; but the time was well employed. Christian people of all denominations clustered closely around him ; nothing but public breakfasts and evening meetings in London, Manchester, and Liverpool, all the way down to the day of embarkation ; even the morning he sailed a public breakfast was given him, where only a few days before he had encountered such a harassing opposition. Punch had a well-defined cartoon of Beecher in his oratorical attitude adminis- tering syrup to soothe the British Lion. Had Beecher only come two years sooner, there would have been little sympathy in Britain for the slaveholding South. X. By rev. CHARLES HALL EVEREST, D.D., Of Chicago, III. No more notable event has transpired in the Christian world during the last fifty years than the advent of this peculiarly gifted and brilliant ambassador for Christ. Sprung from a stock strong in mind and facile in expression, the very best traits seem to have ANALYSES OF HIS POWER, AND REMINISCENCES. 341 culminated in this " favorite son," and as Abraham Lincoln once said of him, that " he possessed the most productive mind of ancient or modern times," so we may add that he possesses a genius for moral ideas that has not been surpassed. In vindication of this eulogy we have but to point to the mani- fest effects of his yet unfinished life. The American pulpit has been emancipated from the scholastic hampers that were compel- ling it to keep pace with mediasval rather than modern thought and method, and while many may be reluctant to credit this liberty to the influence of any one living man, the fact is vStill patent, that the putting off '* Saul's armor," and the going forth with the simple but effective slings furnished by nature and common-sense, was not characteristic of the American ministry before his day. If, therefore, the presentation of the simple truth in the simple language of the day, and yet with the eloquent force that inheres in the vernacular, and if this pressing of the claims of Christ in the tongue in which men were born has produced Pentecostal results, we affirm that under God, our gratitude should be to him who more than thirty years ago struck the key-note in Plymouth pulpit. Any innovation like this referred to — though in fact it was but copying the Master himself — introduced by a man less strong in brain and less devoted in heart, might have caused confusion and a consequent weakening of ministerial influence, but the experi- ment of playing upon all the strings of the human soul boldly, and summoning the whole man daily to its best activity for Christ's sake as the highest expression of godliness, was in his own hands so large and permanent a success, that it swept the land, and scores of young men who had been trained to fit and polish creeds forgot the lessons of the schools, and gave them- selves to the more glorious work of forming characters and inspir- ing lives. Mr. Beecher's popularity has been so remarkable, that many 342 HENRY WARD BEECHER. have assumed that much of his zeal was for the sake of the incense that was offered to his genius, and that the natural love of power impelled him to seek the greatest possible eminence. But a personal acquaintance of more than twenty years has given me a far different estimate of his motives and ambitions. In giving private counsel, such as he would naturally impart to me as a member of his church, as one who had been ordained to the ministry in that church, and under his own auspices, and also allied to him by blood, the impression always abiding with me vpas, that the Lord Jesus Christ was "the chiefest of ten thou- sand " to him ; that he was more solicitous for his glory than any other, and that in an eminent degree the love of Christ constrained him in all his life work. This view of the depth of his devotion to the Master, and his conscious reliance upon him, was most forcibly conveyed to me soon after the memorable " trial " through which he passed. I was journeying to New York on the Hudson River Road, when at Peekskill Mr. Beecher entered the car, and taking a seat by me was my companion to the city. In the course of the conver- sation, that almost immediately drifted to the malignant trial referred to, I was expressing the deep satisfaction that all Chris- tian men felt, that the attempts to stain his name and impair his influence for good had been futile, when he turned suddenly and faced me, and with a most impressive manner said, " Everest, my deliverance is no mystery to me ; the whole case to my mind is summed up in those words of Jesus to Peter, ' Simon, Satan hath desired to have you that he may sift you as wheat, but I have prayed for thee,' and the same Master prayed for me." The influence of such a fervid, richly endowed, and yet consecrated man cannot be measured in its relation to the country as well as the church. The services rendered to the cause of humanity in the great anti-slavery struggle, and to patriotism both in this land and across the sea, during the fiery days of war, ANALYSES OF HIS POWER, AND REMINISCENCES. 343 have their record in the hearts of the people, and need no enumer- ation here. No good word or work during the last half century has failed to receive his earnest and eloquent endorsement. No sketch, however brief, of Mr. Beecher, can afford to omit a reference to that wealth of good nature and sociability that render his words as fascinating in private circles as in the great assem- blage. On a day of surpassing interest to me some twenty years ago, it being my wedding-day, I met the noon train at Hartford, Connecticut, to welcome and escort Mr. Beecher to the bride's residence. As most young men under similar circumstances would have done, I went to the upper end of the depot, so as to appear collected and not too eager for his coming. But to my dismay the sturdy form for which I watched did not appear, and it was only after several hours that I learned that he had jumped from the train before it entered the station, and not finding me, and supposing that the law of the State would not permit him, a non-resident, to marry me — though the obnoxious law had been repealed — he had gone to his sister's, Mrs, Stowe. Thither I hastened, and finding the much-desired parson, he met me with the cool proposition to take one of Mrs. Stowe's daughters, and thus save time and a long ride down to the city. " But, " he finally said, " if you really have a i~)reference for the other girl, I will go down with you." I had a preference, and the short but beautiful service that made that winter evening forever memorable to me was declared by Mr Beecher to a friend to have been " the best piece of ecclesiastical work " he ever did, in which opinion, I may frankly say, I most heartily concur. Long may the life that has ministered beside the altars of joy and sorrow for many hearts be continued to illumine the earth that it has so signally blessed, and sad will be the day for the earth when that life shall be received " into the glory that shall be revealed." 344 HENRY WARD BEECHER. XI. By rev. W. BURNET WRIGHT, Of Boston, Massachusetts. Let me say at once that I wholly houor and love Mr. Beecher, and have long counted his friendship among the best of my bless- ings. For some this fact will take away all value from anything I may say about him, since there are those who never trust the fidelity of a portrait unless it has been painted by an enemy of the man it pretends to represent, or at least by one who can view him with a stranger's eye. But I believe a man is never truly known except to his friends. Even if that were not so, the question would remain, "What made them his friends?" Until that is an- swered, the part of the man best worth our knowing must remain unknown. I will tell, therefore, as well as I can, what has made me love and honor Mr. Beecher. In the sermon which he preached at my installation over Berkeley Street Church, he remarked that he had rocked my cradle, I have also heard it said that when he was studying at Lane Seminary, he named my father's house the *' Beecher Tavern. " But I do not remember ever seeing him until my middle year at Andover, and before that time I never heard or read a sermon or lecture from him. He had just finished speaking in Tremont Temple, and v/as surrounded by a host of people offering their congratulations. I stood outside the press holding a note of introduction, and hesitating whether to present it or wait for a better opportunity, when he stepped toward me, took the note from my hand, read my name, and exclaimed : " Are you a son of Nathaniel Wright ?" "Yes, sir." "Then you ought not to be bringing intro- ductions to me, but giving them to other people !" I think ANALYSES OF HIS POWER, AND REMINISCENCES. 345 he tad not seen my father for twenty years, and they had not corresponded during the interval ; yet he threw so much genuine regard into that single sentence that I instantly felt at home with the great man I had a moment before been afraid to approach, I had been thinking, " A cat may look at a king." He made me feel how much better than a cat is a boy to his father's friend. The next day we went together to his home in Brooklyn. In- stead of destroying his interest in the friends of his early years, his long absence from the West appeared to have increased his love for them. He seemed to remember more Cincinnati people than I had ever known. He asked about them ; he described them with a vividness and accuracy which made me feel as if he were living there and had been away only on a visit. The impression made upon me then of the intense personal interest he feels in people, of his never forgetting anybody he has once known, of his always dwelling upon their lovely traits and forgetting their un- lovely ones, of his immense capacity of liking even those whom no one else can like, has been steadily deepening during a friend- ship of more than twenty years. This faculty of seeing things to love in individuals and of taking them into his personal regard, seems to me the top root of his in- fluence. He sways the masses and wins their heart just because to him there are no masses. He never lumps men nor thinks of them in bulk. He cares nothing for " being in general," but every- thing for particular beings. His preaching reaches all men because it is never aimed at all men, but at some special John or James or William whom he knows and loves. When the thousand other Johns or Williams listen, each feels that he is personally addressed by one who loves without having seen him. Thus the power of individualizing men and establishing a direct relation with .each one of a multitude comes from his interest in individuals. The reflex of it appears in the way in v/hich people generally in speaking of 346 HENRY WARD BEECHER. him call liitn by Lis Christian name, as if they felt he belonged to them as a member of their family, I can recall but three among the great spiritual teachers of this generation who have inspired this sentiment. Men speak of "Mr. Spurgeon," "Dean Stan- ley," " Dr. Parker," They say John Henry Newman to distin- guish him from another Newman, and "James Marti neau" to show tbey do not mean his sister. But they say George MacDonald, Phillips Brooks, Henry Ward Beecher, because they feel instinct- ively toward these men as I felt when the warm grasp held my hand in Tremont Temple. This vivid interest in persons is the source of Mr. Beecher's power of putting people at their best in his society. Some great men are in this respect like yard-sticks. Without in the least meaning to do so, they make you feel that you are indubitably but half an inch high. Other still greater men act upon you as heat acts upon mercury. You do not measure yourself by them, nor once consider whether you are large or small, but you feel that you are growing larger for being with them. You think your best thoughts, say your brightest things, feel your noblest impulses in their presence. These men do not flatter your pride, for pride always puts one at his worst. But they see in you more than you thought was there, and presently it comes out and justifies their insight. So spring affects plants. This is the source of the lifting power of Mr. Beecher's minis- try. The Master could save the world, because he saw in the worst men more to love than others saw in the best. The eye which discerned affection in denying Peter and womanhood in the daughter of shame, raised Peter to repentance and Magdalen to purity. But the great world is only many millions of sinners essentially like these. What has often amazed me in Mr, Beecher is the immense ex- tent and accuracy of his information. How he has gained it I can- not say. He never studies as other men do. He reads slowly. ANALYSES OF HIS POWER, AND REMINISCENCES. 347 indeed I count him the slowest reader alive. Slow reading often makes deep thinkers, but rarely has it produced broad scholars. But Mr. Beecher's knowledge of books is prodigious. I remember watching his skilful play on the croquet ground one summer afternoon, when I had for some months been study- ing Herbert Spencer. AVhen the game was done, in reply to a question I asked him, he gave me an account of Spencer and his writings with a wealth of biographical details and a knowledge of the man's entire system, which would have been remarkable in a carefully prepared and written lecture. I have often tested him in the same way on other themes, only to find him equally in- formed and ready. It has mattered little what subject was broached in conversation, he seems to have made it a specialty ; science, literature, art, politics, theology — in each he is equally at home. In his private conversation his speech is as perfect in qual- ity of thought, in richness of illustration, and in precision of statement as are his public utterances. This is true of only one other man I have known, and that man, Mr. Phillips, is the least like him of all orators that can be named. One may spend a day in converse with either of these men, then listen to the lecture or sermon, and feel that the conversation was fully equal to the speech. I believe that Mr. Beecher's finest sayings have been spoken in private. The slightest tinge of personal vanity would render this impossible. I think it also comes from their interest in individuals. For to each of these men, accustomed to the ap- plause of multitudes, a solitary child appears an audience worthy of all his powers. A distinctive characteristic of Mr. Beecher's preaching is his fidelity in the use of Scripture. He has been often thought careless in this respect. It has been said of him — among others by Mr. Barton, I believe — that he takes verses to head his sermons through habit, and then proceeds to say whatever he likes without regard to text or context. No judgment could be more false. 348 HENRY WARD BEECHER. Of all preacliers known to me Mr. Beecher sticks most closely to Ills text — not to its letter, but to its truth. Others may hold higher theories of inspiration, but a careful examination of his sermons will convince a competent critic that no other preacher treats the Bible more reverently. His method is to get the truth contained in bis text as accurately as he can, and then apply that and nothing else in whatever way may be most effective for the guidance of men. In this respect Robertson approaches him most nearly. The sermons of these two rr^en come out of their texts, and rarely are read into them. Perhaps among the celebrated preachers of this generation Mr. Spurgeon and Mr. Moody hold the liighest theory of verbal in- spiration. Yet I believe any single year's preaching of either will furnish more examples of reckless dealing with Scripture, more instances of texts explored as clothes-lines on which to hang the disconnected things they happen to think, than can be gathered from all the pulpit work of Mr. Beecher's life. I fear I have already passed the limite your courtesy has offered me, and will therefore close by recording one remark which illus- trates that quality in Mr. Beecher which I mentioned first, and which seems to me the noblest sentence I ever heard him utter. Some years ago when it was harder for me than it is now to make due allowance for the weaknesses of men, I was alone with him. A treacherous blow had- been dealt him by one who had long enjoyed his intimate confidence and cordial friendship. He was then passing through perhaps the heaviest trial of his life. I was aflame with indignation at what seemed to me then and does now a most deliberate and malignant treachery, and asked as men ask when they mean to get new fuel for a fire already too fierce, " "WHiat do you think of that man now?'^ He raised his eyes to mine. They were moist, but not a spark of anger was in his face, and his voice was softer and gentler than I had ever heard it, as he replied, " I have been forced to bury him." I have never ANALYSES OF HIS POWER, AND REMINISCENCES. 349 heard him alhide in any way to that person since, and it wonld still be impossible for mc to tell him my honest opinion of his ^* buried friend." XII. By rev. E. p. PUTNAM, D.D., Unitarian Pastor, Brooklyn, N. Y. Too much importance has been attached by many to Mr. O. B. Frothingham's utterances in relation to the radicalism of the day. Though his followers have become very much excited in consequence of what he has said and done, and have pronounced him " old" or " sick" or " weak" or " aristocratic" or " treacher- ous," it does not yet appear that he has really gone back from his former position, however he may for the moment call to his friends, " Halt /" But even had he essentially changed his views, he is but one among many cultivated men of the land who are drifting about amid the currents of religious opinion and Specula- tion, and the extent of whose influence is altogether a matter of uncertainty. The only significance of his new attitude is that, ■with a multitude of others, he seems to have come to a point be- yond which he cannot very well go in the direction of doubt and denial, let who will wander farther. What is of main interest to ns is that hundreds and thousands are beginning with him to feel that they are going nowhere and that it is high time to stop, if not to retrace their steps. But one thing is sure, they will not in any event return to the old creeds and systems of a bygone cen- tury. These have been demolished and pulverized beyond the possibility of reconstruction. Many agencies have co-operated to bring about the desired and needed result, many famous preachers and many powerful books, popular education, the progress of 350 HENRY WARD BEECHER. science, increased means of travel, and intercommunication, and what is commonly called the spirit of the age. Of all the men of our country who have wrought to this end, I doubt whether any one has done more effective service than Rev. Henry Ward Beecher. His influence has been all the more potent that he has stood and accomplished his work within the lines of the orthodox church, never going quite so far as to separate himself from the communion and fellowship in which he was born and reared, and yet going quite far enough to gain ample vantage-ground for the most damaging assaults upon the old faith. Through his long and remarkable ministry of more than forty years, he has so broken, one by one, with the old evangelical doctrines, that his orthodoxy has come to be a radically different thing from the orthodoxy of his celebrated father, Dr. Lyman Beecher. Not alone as a preacher to a vast congregation, but also as an editor of various widely-circulated weekly papers, a popular and industrious lecturer in many parts of the country, and a prodigious and untiring worker in the world of politics, philanthropy, education, and general liter- ature, he has constantly exerted his great influence in stimulating thought,' in setting men's minds free from ancient errors, in in- culcating new and nobler ideas, in humanizing religion, and in making the churches more and more recognize love as the essential and eternal element of it, and in enthroning the Fatherhood of God and the brotherhood of man as the great and paramount principles of the gospel of Jesus Christ. Dean Stanley, during his late visit to this country, acknowledged that Mr. Beecher, more than any other man, had taught him in all its fulness the truth of the Fatherhood of God. The orthodoxy of fifty years ago was hard and cold and dead. The orthodoxy of to-day, as modified and changed by Mr. Beecher, is warm and vital, and finds readier access to the hearts of the common people. Unita- rianism seemed incompetent for this work, not because it had not the truth as i^ is in Jesus, but from other causes which are sufB- ANALYSES OF HIS POWER, AND REMINISCENCES. 351 ciently well understood. What the masses would not hear from trained and cultured heretics of Harvard or Boston, they were quite willing to hear and also to accept from one of unsurpassed genius and eloquence, who belonged to the old communion, but who yet was instinct with sympathy for all, and who presented re- ligion in more engaging and attractive forms than she had worn for them before. Through all these years his word has gone out into all the world and found its way into myriads of churches and homes, liberalizing thought and creed, inspiring more of love to God and love to man, and diffusing everywhere a more genial light and life. "Who can measure the extent to which, under such kindlier influences, the iron systems of the past have yielded and melted away ? No mere processes of logic could have done it. Mr. Beecher is not, in the strict sense of the word, a logician or a theologian. In his presentations of truth and doctrine, he has often, as it seems to us, been inconsistent with himself. One of his emotional nature, vivid imagination, playful fancy, and inex- haustible wit and humor, could hardly be otherwise, while living so active a life and called to such multifarious tasks. Nevertheless, his has been a persistent force, and it would not have been greater, but less, had bis more nicely harmonized theological belief been purchased at the expense of the Shakespearian breadth and variety of his mental and moral endowments. The contributions which he has made to the religious thought and life of the world will pass into the church of the future, and will still grow to more and more when he himself has passed from earth. [ 352 HENRY WARD BEECHER. XIII. By rev. a. II. BRADFORD, Pastor of Congregational tViurch, Montclair, New Jersey, My remembrance of Mr. Beecher reaches back to the old " abolition days." Reared in the home of an abolitionist, it was inevitable that so conspicuous a worker in the cause of reform as the Brooklyn pastor should become to me a kind of idol. From that day to this I have admired his genius, been thrilled by his rare and glorious eloquence, and stimulated and strengthened by his presentations of spiritual truth, so practical and penetrating. My personal acquaintance with Mr, Beecher has been slight, although from the frequency with which I have supplied his pulpit, and the number of Plymouth Church people in my own church, it seems to me as if I knew him more intimately than I do. Of Mr. Beecher as an orator there can be but one opinion. He is the most perfect master of eloquence, in my opinion, that this country has ever produced. Others have been as witty, as pathetic, as convincing, as persuasive as he, but no other American ever possessed all these qualities in such harmonious combination. I well remember a remark made in my presence by Dr. W. M. Taylor, of the Broadway Tabernacle, when several of us were returning from the installation of Rev. S. H. Virgin in New York. After telling us about Mr. Beecher's speeches in England during the war, and of one great tussel which he had had with a mob which had tried to break up one of his meetings, Dr. Taylor declared with his peculiar emphasis, " I tell you I believe there has not been such eloquence in the world since Demosthenes." Any one who listened to Mr. Beecher's magnificent address in the Madison Square Church during the Evangelical Alliance, in I ANALYSES OF HIS POWER, AND REMINISCENCES. 353 1873, will never forget that incomparable effort, and will not hes- itate to accept the New York pastor's estimate of the Brooklyn pastor's eloquence. The most thrilling words I ever heard from man were some of the short speeches made by him during the memorable council in Plymouth Church in 1876. At times, as he spoke, the heads of those who listened bowed before the rush of his uttered feeling as a field of grain bends when a great wind sweeps over it. As a preacher, Mr. Beecher is most, at home ; and, for one, I wish he would stay at home more. Wlio could lead a revival with such persuasion as he ? Who could reach all classes with convic- tions so readily as he ? I always feel as if Mr. Beecher' s lectur- ing were a waste of power — like a man loading a columbiad to shoot a swallow. Dr. Lyman Abbott has classified four great American preachers as follows. He says : Dr. John Hall is expository ; Dr. Williana M. Taylor is practical ; Phillips Brooks is experimental ; Henry- Ward Beecher is philosophical. That Dr. Abbott's classification is correct I have no doubt, and yet Mr, Beecher's preaching seems to me to be expository, experimental, and practical, as well as philosophical. I cannot understand how any one who has heard Mr. Spurgeon can for a moment compare him with the Plymouth pastor. It is like com- paring Mt. Blanc with its foothills. Mr. Spurgeon is a great man — a worker, an organizer, a preacher, but he never dreams of the altitudes of thought and utterance in which Mr. Beecher con- stantly dwells. Canon Farrar is certainly one of the first of living preachers : but if any one is desirous of an illustration of the superior excellence of Mr. Beecher's preaching, let him read first Farrar's sermon on " Eternal Hope," and then Mr. Beecher's sermon on " The Background of Mystery." The contrast is V9,st and instantly recognized. But, much as I admire Henry Ward Beecher as a preacher, I 354 HENRY WARD BEECHER. cannot be blind to what seems to me to be serious defects. More than any man I Ivnow in the evangelical pulpit does he seem to me to occupy himself with making men of straw for the purpose of knocking them down. Often in hearing him preach you begin to wonder if he does not consider " Mediaeval Theology " as a roaring lion which, active and pernicious as the devil himself, is going around to destroy all good. But when I ask myself, Where shall I find that which Mr. Beecher has caricatured, I know not which way to look. This is a fault which greatly detracts from the .effectiveness of his preaching, and which rouses needless antagonisms. At times also lie uses a bluntness of expression which borders upon coarseness of suggestion, in a way that helps 'no one, and troubles, with cause, those who are sensitive about public utterances which savor of indelicacy. But these and other things are only spots on the sun. I am not a blind follower of Mr. Beecher, but I am stimulated and inspired by him as by no living preacher. And what an audience that man's words reach! On the borders of Puget Sound, in 1874, I met a former parish- ioner of his from Indianapolis. I said to him, " Well, what do you think of your old pastor now ?" He put his hand in his pocket, pulled out two or three copies of Plymouth Pulpit, and answered, " What does that look like ?" Soon after that I met a man way up on the Snake River. His home was in Idaho. I asked him about his church privileges. " Oh," said he, " we have no churches up there on the Palouse, but a few of us get together and read the Plymouth Pulpit, and we have pretty good preaching, I tell you." One other thing I will mention. In my intercourse with Plymouth Church people, I have noticed that while they are de- votedly loyal to Mr. Beecher as a man and a minister, they never hesitate to express dissent from his teaching. He has trained men and women to do their own thinking rather than to think as he does. Thus does he develop strong and independent characters. ANALYSES OF HIS POWER, AND REMINISCENCES. 355 George Ebers closes his historical novel, " Homo Sum," with the epitaph on the tomb of Petms, one of the principal characters of his story. It is as follows : " Pray for me a miserable man — for I was a man, ' ' So must we say of all, Mr. Beecher among the rest. All of us are men with human faculties and human frailties. But among men whom it has been ray good fortune to know, among preachers whom it has been my privilege to hear, for wealth of manhood and for power to move and mould men, I know not who to place beside Henry Ward Beecher. XIV. By PtEV. ALBEPtT H. HEATH, Pastor of First Congregational Church, New Bedford, Massachusetts. Mr. Beecher is a man who excites such a variety of feelings in those who come under his influence that it seems difficult to set down briefly your impression of him. He is a many-sided man. He is a full man. I had almost said an overflowing man. He absolutely overwhelms you with the multifarious manifestations of the power that is in him. You read him, you study him, and you think you know him, when lo ! some sudden turn reveals things of which you had not dreamed. He is a kind of human _ kaleidoscope at every turn falling into new and beautiful shapes. ■ I was a boy in college just beginning to think on religious themes when Mr. Beecher was at the very zenith of his glory. Every sentence that dropped from his fruitful lips was printed and read by the millions. I read and admired. I sat as a willing, a charmed pupil at his feet. At one time he held me heart and brain in his sweet thrall ; I loved him. His words came to me like dew to thirsty ground. He satisfied me — he filled me — he flooded me. Under the shadow of his luxuriant thought I 22 356 HENRY WARD BEECHER. dreamed and was happy. Nor did I dream only. I was lifted — inspired — moved to nobler action. He gave me new views of God and heaven. Christ and his cross as garlanded by his mag- nificent speech had new attractions for me. He also interpreted human nature to me. He gave me clearer views of religious experience. There was a " sweet reasonableness " in his por- trayal of the Christian life that won me mightily. Such was the influence of Mr. Beecher's printed words upon me when a boy. But all this was much intensified when I came under his personal infl,uence as a preacher. Sitting in the aisle chairs of old Plym- outh Church, as I did a portion of one year, a stranger — never knowing a member of the church and never passing a vp^ord with Mr. Beecher himself, yet it was a privilege, " quite on the verge of heaven," for me, a home-sick boy, a waif in the great city, to sit for an hour under the copious rain of Plymouth Pulpit. As I said, I did not know Mr. Beecher in those days, nor did he know me. I was but one among thousands who flocked to hear him, and yet, somehow, I came to feel that he had a personal interest in me, and that he was my friend. It seemed almost as if there had grown up between our souls a friendly intimacy. He preached to me and prayed for me. He was my personal friend. I wonder if others had similar experiences. But as I look back to-night to those favored days, I am of the opinion that it was not his .sermons that helped me most, but his prayers. His sermons touched me like shocks from a spiritual battery, but his prayers were like the very breathing of the Spirit of God — his prayers rose on a " bold and easy wing," and they seemed to bear jou on their ample pinions to the very foot of the throne. I think few men have been able so to open the window of heaven and talk with God face to face. Few ministers have been able to make their congregations feel that the very heavens were raining mercy upon their bowed heads. To do these two things, viz., to preach and pray, it seems to Across the Rocky Mountains. " Eyes and Ears." ANALYSES OF HIS POWER, AND REMINISCENCES. 359 me that Mr. Beecher lias had a life-long and special commission from Heaven. I measure him not by the standard of literary criticism, though the consummate beauty of his style is acknowl- edged by all. I think not of him as a theologian, though he has given theology to the masses, making it intelligible and palatable to the popular mind more than any other man of his time. He is not to me a logician, though I think those that have crossed swords with him have not found him weak in argument. Nor do I think of him as an orator, though I have heard him -when he seemed to touch the third heaven of eloquent speech, yet it is as a preacher and a priest making intercession for the people that he will ever stand before me. I believe this will be his place in his- tory. He is the voice of one crying in the wilderness, pointing with graceful speech to the Lamb of God who taketh away the sins of the world. He has voiced God's mercy, I feel, more grandly than any other preacher of his time, and he has also voiced the want of the human heart before the throne of God's mercy with equal, if not greater power. I believe that Henry Ward Beecher was called of God and endowed and inspired to preach and to pray, and most grandly has he fulfilled his calling. I have always loved him for the good he has done me. I have many times been unable to beheve with him, but I have always believed in him ; never for a moment hare I doubted him. When the clouds were darkest yet my faith never wavered ; I could not, I would not think him untrue, and with thousands, I thank God that hisaflaictions, long-pressing and severe, have only ripened him and mellowed and enriched him and made him a tenderer friend and truer minister of the grace of God. May the Lord bless him and long keep him, making the evening shadows to gather slowly. Let the night be tardy in its coming that shall hide from us so fair a life. 360 HENRY WARD BEECHER. XV. By rev. LEONARD BACON, D.D., LL.D., Late Professor in Yale Theological Seminary ^ Keio Haven, Connecticut. The world, it has been said, consists of mankind in general and the Beecher family. For many years past, the most conspicuous and, world-famous member of that family, not excepting the author of " Uncle Tom's Cabin," has been Henry Ward Beecher, I have among my papers — perhaps somebody will find it after my decease — a somewhat exultant letter which Dr. Lyman Beecher sent to me along with a copy of his Henry's firstborn book, " Lectures to Young Men." The book has long been out of my sight, lent, perhaps, to somebody who thought it too good to be returned, and was not sufficiently quickened by it to remember " what is forbidden in the eighth commandment." I remember reading that book with gTeat pleasure, admiring its force of thought and expression, its wealth of illustration, its insight into human nature under the various phases of individual character, its boldness of assault and denunciation, its earnestness in warning young men against moral dangers, and the electric force of its in- citements to manly aspiration and manly living. In every lecture I seemed to see sparks as from the red iron on the old anvil, and to hear the old Boanerges thundering with a youthful voice. It was evident that if the young preacher of those lectures should be spared to his generation, he would be heard from again and often. He has been heard from ; and his name to-day is familiar as a household name through the breadth of the continent. His dis- courses are read wherever the English language is spoken. I in- dulge in no criticism on the eccentricity or seeming eccentricity ANALYSES OP HIS POWER, AND REMINISCENCES. 361 of his career, further than to express my confidence that wlien the eccentricity seems greatest, the centrifugal force is checked and the star is held in its orbit by the attraction of the Sun of Righteous- ness. Nor will I venture to foretell what the total of his influence is to be on the age that is to follow him. To some extent, he has been a breaker-up of fallow ground, driving a strong ploughshare through the tangled roots of traditional dogmas and half -intelli- gent prejudices, and turning up the underlying truth to the sun- light. If in so doing he has sometimes wounded more than was needful the sensibilities of good people who cling with loving reverence to old phraseology in the statement of truth and to old rules and forms of behavior, let us forgive him, remembering that we also are human, and thanking God, who furnished him with great gifts and gave him great courage and great opportunities. In the great and painful crisis of his life — if some good men dis- trusted him — if many feared for him and were anxious — there was this testimony in his favor : wicked men and women, those who hate the Church and the Bible, and would emancipate society from the fear of God and the restraints of Christian morality, combined against him, and manifested their hatred of him. Was not this an illustration of what was in Christ's thought when he said to his disciples, " Woe unto you when all men shall speak well of you?" That the honored name of Henry Ward Beecher may brighten as his head grows hoary, that, with every year that passes over him, his soul may be more and more enriched with the knowledge which comes from experience of the grace of God, and that his testimony for " all things that pertain to life and godliness" may be prolonged through many years to come with ever-increasing efficiency, is the prayer of his friend and his father's friend. 362 HENRY WARD BEECHER. • XVI. By HON. FREDERICK DOUGLASS, Of Washington, D. C. No just man will deny to Henry Ward Beecher tlie possession of great qualities, and no generous man will wish to do so. His- tory will accord to him a high place among tbe laborers in every good word and work of his day and generation. He can never be numbered with the laggards in Church or State. Without awaiting the friendly pressure of popular sentiment, self-moved and self-sustained, he has dared to espouse the right side of every great question of the age. Against ignorance, superstition, and bigotry, he has long been a mighty power in the land. His ten- der heart and broad humanity has made him the friend of the poor, the weak, and the persecuted everywhere and of every race and color. As a colored man and one who has felt the lash and sting of slavery, I cannot forget the powerful words of this man in the cause of justice and liberty, and in righteous denunciation of slavery. Standing in his own place outside the abolition ranks, he probably did more to generate anti-slavery sentiment than he could have done by taking his stand inside those ranks. Through his influence and example the doors of Plymouth Church were open, when nought but a grand moral courage could have kept them so. It was in that church alone, in the darkest moment of the anti-slavery movement, when an enraged nation madly clamored for the blood of John Brown, that Wendell Phillips could be permitted to throw the shining shield of his eloquence over the bleeding head of the grand old hero and martyr. But the world knows of the good works of this mar. : how he welcomed and succored the panting fugitive from slavery ; how he denounced and stamped upon the Fugitive Slave Bill ; how he de- ANALYSES OF HIS POWER, AND REMINISCENCES. 363 nounced the border ruffian invasion of Kansas ; how in the face of mobs and violence he defended and protected free speech ; how he stood by the Union and liberty against a slaveholding rebellion ; how by his eminent tact and marvellous eloquence he turned the tide of British sentiment in favor of the integrity of his country, and defeated the machinations of traitors and rebels, are things all too familiar to be repeated here, I remember an incident which early opened to me the heart of Henry Ward Beecher. He had come to Rochester, N. Y., to deliver an address before the Literary Societies of Rochester University. While there he did me the honor to call upon me. During his stay my little daughter, long since dead, came into the room and laid her little hand lovingly on my knee. Mr. Beecher noticed the child. I said to him, How could any man with a human heart take that child from my arms and sell her on the auction-block ? I never shall forget his look at the moment. He begged me not to mention it. The thought made him sick, as if he were looking upon a tender sister being bled. I willingly give this leaf, for I wish the good that men do to live after them. XVII. REV. FRANCIS N. ZABRISKIE, D.D., Editor of Christian Intelligencer, Kew York. When a young man, between eighteen and twenty years of age, a law student in New York, I used very frequently to go to Brook- lyn on the Sabbath, and in the evening usually attended Plym- outh Church. It was in those days that the Spirit of God was striving with my spirit, applying to my conscience the counsels and influences of a Christian parentage and nurture. At length, I de- 364 HENKY WARD BEECHER. cided that I could no longer resist. I must lay hold upon eternal life, as well as make my present living a more worthy and restful thing by giving it to God. My training had been of the most strictly evangelical and ortho- dox kind, and I would say here, that my belief in those facts con- cerning God and man, which we usually designate as Calvinistic, have never ceased to commend themselves as the profoundest and most reasonable truth, and Mr. Beecher's manner and matter of preaching were quite different from that to which I had been ac- customed. But, perhaps for that very reason, his mode of putting the question of salvation made the way more plain and practicable than did any other preacher. And I always think of the help which he afforded me, in that supreme crisis of my destiny, with gratitude and affection. I was summoned to the Plymouth Church Council in 1876, as the pastor of the Old Saybrook Church, Conn., without any previous personal acquaintance with Mr. Beecher. I confess that I went there with a troubled heart and opinions somevvhat un- settled. And, in order to hold myself entirely free from special pressure or obligation, I declined to accept hospitalities or travel- ling expenses at the hand of the Plymouth Church people. But I left the council firmly persuaded (as were all who attended) that Henry Ward Beecher was not only unjustly accused, but that he was one of the noblest and, in this matter, one of the saintliest souls which the grace of Christ had moved and moulded. XVIII. By rev. C. N. SIMS, D.D., Chancellor of t^racuse Methodist Episcopal University, New York. Every intelligent minister of the present day must have observed the career and work of Mr. Beecher with sufficient ANALYSES OF HIS POWER, AND REMINISCENCES. 365 interest to form a decided opinion both of the man and his minis- try. Such I had formed prior to my coming to Brooklyn more than five years ago. But since that time it has been my privilege to revise my opinions in the light of a personal acquaintance with ]\Ir. Beecher, his parishioners, and personal observation of bis "work. The distinctive individuality of his ministry is no less marked than that of the man himself. It is wholly unique. To an out- side observer it would seem that the attendant upon Mr. Beecher's ministry is attracted to it entirely by the preacher and his utterances, and not because the church represents his theological opinions, affords him the usual church opportunities, or furnishes him with definite Christian employment. He goes there because he likes Mr. Beecher and what he says. There is not apparent to an outside observer any cohesiveness in Plymouth congregation which would hold it together if its pastor were removed. It, therefore, appears to lack that element of perpetu- ity which survives men and insures the continued life and power of a church, notwithstanding pastoral changes. This, I take it, indicates at once a power and a weakness in Mr. Beecher's ministry, a power of personal genius, an ability to instruct, comfort, and inspire human souls and to voice human experiences so as to interpret the heart to itself ; a weakness in failing to estabhsh in the minds and consciences of the members those distinctive elements of faith and well-defined classifications of duty "which give the church a permanent hold upon the member as hav- ing incorporated into it the expression both of his faith and duty. Probably this lack of definiteness and tangibility in the church "is the result of a want on Mr. Beecher's part of clear cut, positive views on the great evangelical doctrines of orthodoxy, and the great prominence he has given to the humanitarian side of Christ's teachings. In marked contrast to this apparent weakness he has the 366 HENRY WARD BEECHER. wonderful power of educating liis hearers to the highest concep- tions of and efficiency in performing the practical duties of Chris- tianity. The success of Plymouth Church in all manner of minis- trations to the poor, in the maintenance of mission schools, Bible readings, care for oi'phans, and contributions to outside benevo- lencies is both a surprise and example to the other churches of the city. There is, moreover, a broad charity in his teachings which lifts the minds of his hearers above denominational selfishness and fixes them with great steadiness upon the two great commandments : to love Grod with all our hearts and our neighbors as ourselves. Mr. Beecher's ministry has been of incalculable value in teach- ing the intelligent and reputable classes a more just appreciation of the condition and character of the ignorant, vicious, and home- less classes. In this respect he is for the degraded part of our population, for whom so seldom an advocate appears, and whose true condition is so infrequently voiced, what Henry Bergh is for the dumb brute. He has taught men to consider the environ- ments of the poor, the temptations of the degraded, the weakness of the erring, the dim and nebulous hopes of the wretched, and to pity and help where formerly they " passed by on the other side." The influence of the Plymouth pulpit upon moral-political questions has been very great. Its steady advocacy of freedom, the ballot, and all the rights of citizenship, has educated and elevated public sentiment on these questions. Mr. Beecher is a successful minister of the gospel of mere}', justice, and the rights of humanity, as well as of regeneration and pardon. One of the most important fruits of his ministry is the influence of his preaching upon other ministers ; to them, all over the world, he has been an inspiration, and an interpreter of spiritual truth. His illustrations have been both expositions and argu- ments. His directness and simplicity of style have helped to free ANALYSES OF HIS POWER, AND KEMINISCENCES. 3G7 thousands of ministers from narrow conventionalism and pulpit cant. He has educated them into broader thought and more unconstrained expression. For years, I have found his sermons on any subject I was studying among my best text-books. Altogether, though I do not think it will be given Mr. Beecher to live in vigorous life in the eflSciency of the Plymouth Church after his ministry shall cease, yet I do believe he will continue to live efficiently and helpfully in the pulpits of Christendom, in enlightened public sentiment, in quickened charities, in elevated political opinions, and a generally advanced condition of society. Concerning Mr. Beecher personally, my impressions have all been of the pleasantest character. Kind-hearted, approachable, hospitable, easily enlisted in any good cause, genial, full of humor and sympathy, he is socially one of the most charming of men. Personal intercourse with him cannot fail to confirm one's confi- dence in his purit}', integrity, and nobility of character. He wears his crown of increasing years with a grace which makes it a glory. Increasing acquaintance with him is synonymous with increasing confidence in him. I trust- his work and influence for good will be continued for years to come. XIX. By J. L. CUNNINGHAM, Of Dundee, Scotland. Speaking one day to a Manchester merchant about ]\Ir. Beecher and his work, he said he never heard him but once, " But I will ever retain the impression he then made upon me of his power as an orator and tact in conquering a hostile audience. He was announced to speak in the Free Trade Hall, Manchester, 368 HENRY WARD BEECHER. and having read of tlie rough treatment he had got in Liverpool,* thought I might go in and see this wonderful Yankee who had caused such a sensation among the cotton dealers and shippers in Liverpool. I certainly had no impression of him either favorable or unfavorable, and when I looked at the crowded and excited-like assemblage, I thought he would even fare worse with us than in Liverpool. When he commenced to speak, there was such a persistent and apparently determined effort to put him down, that I thought he would have to retire ; but there he stood calm ?ind fearless, dropping in a few sentences during the lulls in the storm of howling, the effect of which sentences on those who heard them was to convert them from opponents to active and earnest agents in procuring for him a hearing ; but ever and anon, the yelling and hooting would compel him to desist, but he never flinched till he fairly conquered that vast audience, and held them for a time, as it were, spell-bound, listening to his glowing appeal for sympathy on behalf of his suffering country. During the latter part of his address, if any one had ventured to create any disturb- ance I verily believe the audience would have thrown them out of the windows. I never saw any assemblage so completely won over by a speaker as that one was." I have little else to inform you regarding his visit to this country, save what will be already well known to you. One great result came out of it. The nation as a nation were so roused up to stand by the North, in their momentous struggle, that the government who were being wrought upon by Louis Napoleon to recognize the South were compelled to remain neutral, or give a tardy support to the North, who all along had the sympathy of the mass of the British nation, but which sympathy was quickened into action by Mr. Beecher's warm-hearted and stirring speeches, and for which the American nation owe him a debt of gratitude. * Evidently a slip of pen or tongue. Mr. Beecher spoke first in Manchester, afterward in Liverpool. ANALYSES OF HIS POWER, AND REMINISCENCES. 369 XX. By rev. frank RUSSELL, Fastor of the Congregational Church, Mansfield, Ohio. In 1864 I united with Plymouth Church, Brooklyn, at the same time that I became a student in Union Theological Seminary, New York. In 1874 I left a six-years' pastorate of Park Congrega- tional Church, Brooklyn, and during these ten years, and I may say for also the five following years, I was well acquainted with Mr. Beecher. I was also a teacher of short-hand reporting, and, perhaps, pretty well skilled in the art of taking the seminary lect- ures verbatim and also much matter from Plymouth Church and prayer-meeting and many notes from and about my well-beloved pastor. The recent burning of my home and its contents, includ- ing my library and manuscripts, may occasion some discrepancy of dates, but the following sketches and reminiscences are, I think, substantially correct. Together with scores of other young men I was the recipient of many helpful personal favors from Mr. Beecher. I first met him at the examining committee on presenting myself with a letter for membership. I have always remembered that meeting as not only a most appropriate and thorough examination, but also as a model church reception committee the functions of which seemed to be to become fully acquainted with each candidate personally, and to make them as fully acquainted with the church, its officers, its polity, and its various departments of Christian work. Previous experiences had brought the pressure of the harness a little upon me, but from that night I sensibly perceived that the traces were taut and that my business was to walk steadily and firmly forward. I had heard Mr. Beecher before both in the pulpit and on the 370 HENRY WARD BEECHER. platform, but never had he, and never afterward did he, appear either as great or as good as he did in that personal intercourse with me and with the other candidates. That I had come out of the fires of war and that I was struggling for the ministry was disclosed to the committee, and Mr. Beecher holding my hand to the door to bid me good-night, and God-speed, he pressed into my hand a bank bill, which with seeming carelessness he took from his vest pocket. As I attempted to decline it he roughly held my hand about it and said with some show of impatience in both, voice and manner, " You'll find out that we Plymouth people have a way of doing as we have a mind to." I supposed the bill was probably a two or a five, but I found it to be fifty dollars, and afterward had the pleasure of informing Mr. Beecher how well the Appletons' Cyclopaedia looked, as the result, for the beginning of my library. Alike with all new-comers I found a difiiculty in getting not only a seat, but sometimes standing-room beyond the threshold at church service, and sometimes I was among the number who had to turn away to find vacant pews in some other church, but on remarking it to Mr. Beecher he seemed delighted to give me a card which secured me a sitting at his family pew that I held for nearly two years. From the studies in the seminary and from my own personal reading and experience, I found necessary and practicable a stand- ing memorandum -page of items, which on occasional visits would claim the attention of my pastor, so that I often remarked what subsequent years confirm, that such interviews, together with the rich ministrations of the Sabbath and of the prayer-meetings, were of as much value to me as any one of the seminary professors, and this does not in the least depreciate their worth. And long after I became a neighboring pastor in Brooklyn, Mr. Beecher continued to be a much-needed pastor to me. Among the class at the seminary, fifty-two young men in number, were a I ANALYSES OF HIS POWER, AND REMINISCENCES. 371 few who did not conceal some theological, or envious, or other ignorant prejudice against the pastor of Plymouth Church. I am not able in very strong terms to affirm that the influence from some of the professors' chairs was always calculated to eradicate such bias from the minds of the young men. At least it seemed to continue with a few who scrupulously refrained their foot from Plymouth portals. I incidentally disclosed this fact in a casual conversation with Mr. Beecher. He asked me, a little thoughtfully, when the most students would be likely to be in attendance upon his church. I told him that most of the young men were to leave town with the close of the seminary year, soon after the 1st of May, and many of them I thought would treat themselves to hearing him about the last Sabbath evening in April. My conjecture proved quite correct, for on that desig- nated time in 1875 I saw an unusual number of familiar seminary faces in Plymouth audience. I will not stop here to recall whether anything of my sugges- tion was at all accessory to this fact. The sermon, however, was on " What kind of ministry do the churches of the present time need ? ' ' and such a scope of the subject, including all the range of the seminary work, and all the practical and pressing demands of the pulpit and the pastorate, I have never seen anywhere so vividly presented. The husks of ancient beliefs and practices were torn apart from the kernel and wxre held pungently forth, and possibly with some appearance of sarcasm. Some things yet lingering in seminary or theological forms, he thought, had been ' ' dead four days, ' ' and with a sudden dramatic flash, and a scene improvised, Mr. Beecher addressed himself sagely to the front seats occupied by his assumed class. The following exercises took place, ushered in with the one sudden remark : " I know how they educate young ministers sometimes." " Well, young brethren, you have been inclosed in these walls until you have finished the prescribed studies of the course. You 372 HENRY WARD BEECHER. are now to go forth into the world to do your holy work, and you will please attend unto your final examination." [To the first in the class.] " Brother, you may tell us what you have learned about the creation." [After listening as though to the reply.] " Yes, that is what you have been taught." [To the second student.] " And you, brother, may tell us about Adam and the Fall." [After listening.] " Yes, that is in strict accordance with our belief here." [To the third student.] " You may state what you know about the Flood and about Moses." [After listening and stroking his invisible beard.] " Yes, that is correct. Your preaching will not fail to be sound. So," said he, sweeping the class scene away with a gesture, " they make ministers by taking a little fore- ordained dough, unleavened, and carry it to the seminary, and the professors within the dingy walls roll it, and roll it, and roll it, and pat it, and pat it, and pat it, and stick just so many little theo- logical holes in it, each in exactly the right place, and then toss it up into the oven and bake it just twenty minutes, the prescribed length of a sermon — and out he comes a little cracker minister. Do you know how I would proceed if I had the training and the examining of these young men ? I'd ask them what they knew of the daily papers, I'd ask them what they think of the lizardly sneaks that make up the New York City Council." The effect of this strong presentation was not only stirring and salutary at the time, but I observed that it came with converting power to the souls of at least some of the previously prejudiced young men. Mr. Beecher has wonderful powers of analysis. His perception acts not only as with a flash, but the flash discloses not merely the body of the object, but to his intuitions the parts, with their relations, all lie clearly open. That which for other men requires hours of intense study and careful compilation, spreads before him at once, and with clear methodical arrangement. After having ANALYSES OF HIS POWER, AND REMINISCENCES. 373 preached a year I passed through the usual discouragement which I think characterizes beginners. I was troubled for subjects. It seemed to me that I had been over all the ground of both cardinal doctrines and practical duties, and I began to think that I was not calculated in such a degree as I had supposed for a preacher of the Gospel. I sought an interview with Mr. Beecher, and told him that after every sermon I had the same disappointment and was discouraged. He answered my plaint promptly and in these words : " Well, if this is so I begin to have some hopes of you. Your disgust with your efforts is a good symptom. It springs from three causes. 1st. Your nerves are tired. You have no business to judge of your work on either Sundays or Mondays. 2d. Your pride is touched and will often need this same kind of humbling as long as you live. The Lord alone gives any strength and he must have the giory ; and, 3d. Your feeling of not hav- ing attained is what every artist needs : if you felt that you had reached your ideal your progress would be at an end. ' ' I' While in my first pastorate in Philadelphia, Mr. Beecher closed a letter to me in these words : " I suppose you are now taxing your strength in the building of brick and mortar, and with com- mittees and contractors. Let me advise you if Friday drops at your feet finding you without your sermon subjects selected, and you feel greatly overburdened about it, just spend one of the remain- ing days fishing and you will preach all the better for it." In Mr. Beccher's brother, Edward, I had been interested through his writing, and after his coming to Brooklyn had many times seen his striking visage before I had personally met him. The latter pleasure was reserved for my enjoyment at Mr. j Beecher's house, with an introduction by Mr. Beecher himself. I had been a few minutes in the parlor waiting for Mr. Beecher while Dr. Edward Beecher himself was also in the room reading and with the sparest recognition of my presence. When Mr. Beecher entered, evidently perceiving that I was not acquainted 23 374 HENRY WARD BEECHER. with his brother, he said, drawing me by the hand toward him : ** Why, don't you know my brother Edward ?" I replied that I felt somewhat acquainted with him, but that I had never been in- troduced, '' Well, this is he," he said, " and if I had his brain and my present gift of gab, I could shake this whole world." I many times noticed one thing which I have often wondered was so little spoken of in Mr. Beecher's favor, especially when tbe troublous times appeared. I allude to the evidences in little things of his loyalty to his wife. I shall never forget the iirst time I ever saw her. It was after my acquaintance with her hus- band had somewhat matured. I was alone with him for a talk in the library. It was a cold day, and he was seated in a large chair facing the blazing grate, when the door opened across the room from his seat, and Mrs. Beecher, apparently in poor health, softly entered and with noiseless step came up behind him and reached her hand down over his shoulder, which he grasped and kissed as he would the hand of a child, and then introduced me to her. On many occasions afterward I noticed and also often heard i^ remarked by others that at times when it is quite customary for husbands and wives to change partners for purposes of conversa- tion, carriage-riding, promenading, and at the dining-table, Mr. Beecher almost invariably was distinguished with his wife by his side, and once I heard him remark when speaking of the pressure of his work, that he had no opportunity of conversing with her except when they went visiting. It has been a popular thing for some to charge Mr. Beecher with looseness of theology, with the easy inference that flowing from it there must be some looseness of practice, whereas a few have noticed that he has been abstemious in his habits of living as compared with some who have exhibited concern for him. It is not Mr. Beecher who has had his wine and ale at his dinner-table and his Havana afterward, but his rule has been, like Paul's, " not to vbe, under the power of any ;" for months, and perhaps for ANALYSES OF HIS POWER, AND REMINISCENCES. 375 years, even ignoring the common beverages of tea and cotfee lest their effect upon his nerves was not the best. From some incidents with which I was personally conversant, from a person who was a member of his household, and from some parties who had grateful reasons for remembering the same, the writer came into possession of many facts which confirm the impression, prevalent in all his history, that Mr. Beechcr's life is one of singular charity and generosity. It has often been said, and doubtless truly, that in this regard he is susceptible of easy imposition. I have seen him hand money to those asking alms, to some calling at his door with pitiful tales of distress, in amounts which I silently thought were far too large for the occa- sion. Among his mail were so frequently letters inclosing from one to ten dollars and sometimes a greater sum ; sometimes from near home, sometimes from far away, and especially from the far west. With the sums inclosed were expressions of deep and sin- cere gratitude for the loan at a time of great need, Mr. Beecher being generally unable to recall the particulars of the cases, and often asserting that it must be a mistake. A lady member of Plymouth Church, who for years was very active in work among the poor, has related many instances of dis- tress relieved by singular " providences" — the ton of coal, the barrel of flour, and the bundles of groceries left mysteriously at the dwellings of the needy, just at the time when the want was the sorest — and " when we get to the last pinch," said she, '' we can always help any one out by getting at Mr. Beecher." The remark was common among all who knew of the circum- stances, when his apparently large salary was the theme of conver- sation, that it made very little difference how much Mr. Beecher received, for he would give away all but his living, and his family had to watch pretty closely to secure that. Perhaps it should be stated in this connection that such an outflow of charities was not regulated in amounts by any principles known either to the tithing 376 HENRY WARD BEECHER. system of the Bible or to the science of book-keeping, but were always the spontaneous expressions of his generous heart. THE CHILD ASLEEP IN THE CHURCH. I recall a sweet picture from the once familiar congregation. It was in the evening. I cannot speak of the ventilation, for that room for some reason always seemed exempt from the ordinary criticism upon the ventilation and velvets, the light and laces, the draughts and dresses, the closeness and crimps, the heat and haugh- tiness, the bigotry and bonnets, and the slamming and snoring, and all the category of ills that ordinary congregations are heir to. I have often observed that there was no observance of these things by the people who gather to hear the preaching, but the preacher UY)on the platform is the only observed of all observers. So wliether the seven-year-old boy sitting with his mother in the gallery over Mr, Beecher's left was made sleepy by any imper- fection in the atmosphere, I am not able to say, but my range was such that I naturally followed the furtive advertisement of the speaker's glance, from wliich I knew that he was evidently annoyed at the frequent efforts of the overfaithful mother to shake lier boy awake when his weary eyes would close and his head would swing and drop forward like a hawk who soars a little time about the prey below and then darts straight upon it. Mr. Beecher ap- peared to glance up in that- direction exactly simultaneously with every successive maternal shaking which the little martyr received, always attended with the rather fierce shaking of the mother's head at him. The attention of the congregation would not have been interrupted had it not been that Mr. Beecher seemed to find it impossible to restrain his sensitiveness in that direction. There ensued more sleeping, liarder shaking, both of the child's form and the mother's head, and the timely glancing from the pulpit, until the last shake was answered by a muttered, peculiar, long- drawn-out groan which stopped the speaker an instant, while in a ANALYSES OF HIS POWER, AND REMINISCENCES. 377 pleading, tender tone he said directly to the lady, " 0, mother, let the child sleep ; it is one of the beatitudes — in church." THE woman's vote. If I correctly recall the circumstances, it was during the winter of 18(58 and 1869, at one of the Congregational meetings in a Brooklyn church, that the question was under discussion as to a memorial to the State Legislature to secure the vote of women in ecclesiastical societies. Some good and" able brethren were opposed to the measure. It had been whispered about that Mr. Beecher had promised some one to run into the meeting long enough to make a speech upon the question. One opponent, venerable and noted for the sweetness of his singing, expressed the hope that this question would not be settled by the heated persuasions of any charming eloquence, but urged that there be grave and thoughtful consideration of the dangers which he felt would mevitably accompany the innovation. Mr. Beecher came in, gained the floor, and spoke very calmly, merely setting forth several reasons why the proposition in his judgment was one of duty and of great advantage, and as he closed he took his overcoat and hat and went very slowly toward the door. Some one was immediately on his feet, and alluded to the remarks of the brother who preceded Mr. Beecher, and urged that careful deliberation rather than any elo- quence should rule the assembly, and seemed to carry an invidious reference to some of Mr. Beecher's closing words. Mr. Beecher turned about, slowly and thoughtfully retraced his steps to a posi- tion near the platform, and, as the speaker closed in a very humble tone, he asked if he might be permitted to add a few remarks to the speech which he had made. One or two of the opposition whispered " No," he had had his speech, etc. ; but the moderator reluctantly said he s-u-p-p-o-s-e-d h-e c-o-u-1 d s-p-e-a-k a-g-a-i-n i-f t-h-e-r-e w^-a-s n-o o-b-j-e-c-t-i-o-n. But a storm of voices cried " Beecher !" " Beecher !" with ccreat enthusiasm. As Mr. 378 HENRY WARD BEECHER. Beecher stood upon the platform he looked from liead to foot a different person from the Mr. Beecher who just before had stated some points in favor of the question. His face was flushed, his eyes enkindled, he glowed all over, and appeared restraining his emotion, and the " remarks" which he had gained permission to " add to his speech " were the most eloquent utterances I ever heard. It was evident that they were thoroughly impromptu ; he seemed to have an inspired vision of history, of society, of the work of the church, of the scriptural position of women. He showed what appreciation was accorded to the noted women of the Bible ; how Christianity had exalted and advanced woman ; how largely she had figured in diplomacy ; how though much be- hind the curtain yet her form could plainly been seen in all gov- ernments ; how society had never advanced only as she advanced, citing historical names in illustrative lists : he made a rich painting of woman's power, and showed the necessity of her co-operation in all movements for good. His intensity was great, his utterance more rapid than 1 ever heard before or since, his gestures were emphatic, he was surcharged with electricity, on fire, blazing. And there was no insulation of the pulpit end of the room — the cur- rent swept through all the tiers of the pews. When he had ceased and was again withdrawing, the silence for a moment or two was profound, until in different parts of the room several at length arose as though to speak, but before the floor was assigned to any applicant the cry of " Question, question," rang all along the lines ; no more speaking was possible ; they would vote upon the resolution, and as it was immediately put the very ceiling trembled above the ringing " Aye." The opposition forgot their opposition and voted aye with the rest, yet I believe there was a faint echo of one or two noes like the falling of isolated snow- flakes against the wall of a cathedral. It is my recollection that the movement at once gained favor throughout the State and quickly became a law. ANALYSES OF HIS POWER, AND REMINISCENCES. 379 THE LADIES IN THE MEDICAL COLLEGE. On the occasion of some exciting difficulty in a New York med- ical institution with regard to the admission of ladies to the course of study, Mr. Beecher came to plead their cause. A company of reporters seemed to have concerted with a band of the students, lewd fellows of the baser sort, and were seated together bent on disturbance. Mr, Beecher, with an earnest appeal to the sense of manhood, purity, propriety and progress, won the entire audi- ence saving this squad of intractables, who openly jeered at his portrayals of the influence of homes with their mothers and sis- ters. He suffered the disturbance repeatedly until it became too noticeable, and then gravely stopping his speech, he advanced to the edge of the platform in their direction, and solemnly address- ing them, said : "Young men, a few Avinters ago I had some spoiled vinegar in my cellar which I had to throw away ; it was just like you, it needed more mother, and I wish there had been more mother where you were born. You would not have become so spoiled." The effect cannot be explained. It was too solemn for the sense of wit, and it was too witty for solemnity. There was no more disturbance. FROM NOTES TAKEN IN LIVERPOOL. A gentleman, who perhaps more than any other Englishman was interested in Mr. Beecher' s great victory there in the time of our war (I believe in the autumn of 1863), took me up to Philhar- monic Hall, that ever memorable moral battle-field, and gave me an intense picture of the scene. This English gentleman had been marked as a friend to the Union Cause in America, in behalf of which he had been somewhat active, and had been persuaded by his friends of the danger of remaining in the city during Mr. Beecher' s visit. He sought out, however, a man of high rank in the police force, who had an active and important part in the management of affairs on that wild night. This police official was 380 HENRY WARD BEECHER. my enthusiastic and intelligent delineator. By a determined and systematic process, almost the whole city had been wrought into the infuriation of a mob. Newspapers had for days given increas- ing and diabolical misrepresentations of Mr. Beecher and also of the. object of his visit, until, as the time of his expected arrival was not far off, leaflets and tracts were freely scattered about the city, frothing with venom, and threatening disaster and death not only to Mr. Beecher, but also to whomsoever of his friends should essay to show themselves friendly. At last bold placards ap- peared, some of them deriding and belying the Union Cause, and all of them defaming Mr. Beecher and avowing that he should not speak in Liverpool. " The Free-love Monster," " The Nigger Worshipper," " The Clown Preacher," " The Arch Insurrection- ist," were specimens of the epithets flaming upon thousands of posters and paid for with rebel funds. Many of them also were laden with such alleged base quotations from purported speeches and even from sermons as would prove Mr. Beecher to be the father of all heresies and the instigator of all crimes, not one of which, I venture to say, savored of the least tincture of genuine- ness. The place was pointed out to me where Mr. Beecher was watched for to appear, every approaching vehicle scrutinized ; the place, also quite remote from this public entrance, to the rear and obscure, to which through an alley and in an indifferent convey- ance he was at last quietly driven ; the dingy halls and staircases, perhaps never before used by any prominent occupant of that great platform, to which they at last led him. The immense audi- torium was packed. It seemed that at least one half were stand- ing and jostling in a confused state of expectancy. Mingled jeers, oaths and threats filled the unsteady atmosphere, while the sight of bludgeons and brickbats and pistols openly exhibited aggravated the awful menace of the perilous situation. Long before the hero of the occasion appeared, the police had whispered among them- selves the utter futility of undertaking to quiet such a furious mass ANALYSES OF HIS POWER, AND REMINISCENCES. 381 of seething frenzy. Even the officers of the unusually large force felt inclined to yield the attempt, and communicated their fears freely to the managers of the occasion. Mr. Beechcr was for a little time held in abeyance, while earnest consultation was had, until, stating positively to them that he had not the slightest fear, he was suddenly ushered upon the platform and Charles Robert- son, Esq., the chairman, advanced to give some words of intro- duction, which stayed for a little the clamorous hosts of rebel chiefs, capitalists, refugees, sympathizing foreign friends, and hired bullies into something of attention. But this was only a little lull of the freighted storm which burst forth as Mr. Beecher was brought to the front. The uproar was terrific. Oaths, vio- lent threats and weapons, thickened the air. Some, panic- stricken, were making fruitless attempts to escape from the danger. Mr. Beecher's voice was for once powerless and he stopped. The chairman in vain tried to force back the impetuous Niagara with words, and to command silence. The fixed deter- mination that Mr. Beecher should not speak was the one decree of the mob. The chief of the police force informed the chairman that the attempt to secure order was useless, and that awful blood- shed was imminent, and the chairman at last went to the front to the relief of Mr. Beecher, proposing a retreat, and emphasizing the danger of the scene ; but was more amazed than assured by the calm reply that came with a smile, " Oh, they won't hurt me, and I'll get them to listen pretty soon." The waves of pandemo- nium rolled frothing and breaking toward the portly but mild figure upon the platform, whose words were like a straw shaken at the fury of the sea from Gibraltar. And this volcano did not cease its roaring for nearly forty minutes. At length Mr. Beecher suddenly squatted low, and asked a person nearly before him a direct, irrelevant question, which secured a spontaneous reply. The whole assembly was dashed with surprise. A second ques- tion quickly followed, and the answer to that quickly came ; then 382 HENRY WARD BEECHER. other questions rapidly — maintaining the same position. The few immediately in front of tlie platform in their intense effort to hear the " conversation " held up hands turned against the tumult, say- ing, " Hear, hear !" Wider grew the circle of those who really did hear. Mr. Beecher's questions with strange instinct grew gradually and adroitly more lengthy, while his position slowly grew toward the erect, until the mob was like magic transformed, against its solid will, into a listening audience, and soon even touched with smiles. ]SIy guide informed me that after the speech hundreds crowded forward to get a nearer view of their conqueror and possibly even to grasp his hand as the vast audience slowly dispersed with repeated expressions of profoundest regard for Mr. Beecher. He said also that when the room was cared for the next morning, a literal cart-load of bludgeons and brickbats were found upon the floor. It is doubtful if all the world's history of eloquence can furnish so great an instance as this " stooping to conquer." THE COMFORT OF SIMPLE WORSHIP. On one occasion about the time of the outbreak of the troubles in Plymouth Church, as I was entering the prayer-meeting through the hall at the rear of the platform, several of the breth- ren were lying in wait for their pastor, and as he hastily entered they very kindly and briefly .said to him that they did not want at all to dictate his themes, but only to say to him that in that room there were more than a thousand people who were suffering over the miserable rumors just afloat, and their grief " is really because they think you are suffering, and we wanted to tell you that if you can say some words of comfort to them it will do great good." "I'll do it," said Mr. Beecher, as he brushed along and passed into the room. It was quite time for commencing, and he had scarcely reached his seat, when, grasping the Plymouth Collection, he announced " 803." The piano started promptly and the con- ANALYSES OF HIS POWER, AND REMINISCENCES. 383 gregation sang with great spirit, " When I can read my title clear." Then followed his prayer, pleading that God in the person of his Holy Spirit would dwell in every heart, so enrich- ing the inner life that his own children might be superior to all of the crucifixions of the earth that are left for us. All eyes were moistened as they again sang, " Nearer, my God, to Thee," and then remarks evidently impromptu in the same thought as the prayer. He made not the slightest allusion to any rumors, but dismissed them with the expiration of the hour, and the brethren again sought him, evidently at a doubt whether their request had been ignored by him, or had been in the fullest degree complied with. So he broke the matter with one remark, " Well, I said enough about the rumors, didn't I ?" And they seemed satisfied that he had. REVULSIONS OF FEELING. It has been a matter of great interest to me to observe the singular and entire change of sentiment which comes about with those who have been bitterly prejudiced against Mr. Beecher, on their becoming personally acquainted with him and with Plymouth Church. Many are the families who have known him at a dis- tance and only through the newspapers, who with their neighbors have brooded over the alleged awfulness about him and fostered their bitterness until it was absolutely venomous, but who, on removing to Brooklyn or New York, and attending Plymouth Church at first as they would a menagerie, have forthwith in won- derful charm renounced their prejudice altogether, and become most enthusiastic admirers and friends of both the church and the pastor. Old neighbors on hearing of it draw a terrible sigh and say, " They, too, bewitched ! how can it be ? What a fearful influence that man does exert !" An ex-Confederate officer who was to spend some time in New York and vicinity said to me, " Yes, T am going to hear Beecher, for I never saw him. It would do me good to take a rifle along and just send a bullet through him as he stands in the pulpit pre- 384: HENRY WARD BEECHER. tending to preach the Gospel. If some one had done it years ago, the country would have been a heap better off, but now that his influence is all gone I don't know but he may as well live." Such was the expression of this chivalric man who was to be my companion to hear Mr. Beecher preach in the evening of the first Sunday in May, 1865, and to which I made only an indifferent reply. Seated in the church before the time of service, I could scarcely endure the whispered criticisms and the ebullitions of the rankest prejudice poured out against the crowd that was packing the building, the building itself, the organ, the style of pulpit, and its furniture, and even against the innocent flowers that adorned it. Even the incomparable singing did not seem to sub- due the evil spirit which held possession of the soul beside me. But the prayer touched upon those who carried bitterness in their hearts and were at enmity with men and with God, and plead for those who had been disappointed, and who had been hurt, and not profited by it, and the prayer, I could see, had quieted if it had not subdued. The sermon was not long commenced until the sneer had gone from the countenance. It was evident that a great struggle was taking place in the mistaken soul of my acquaintance, for tears several times moistened his eyes. After the service we walked to the ferry arm in arm and in entire silence. He was ve'ry serious and I waited for him to speak first. " I swear, I believe I have been most egregiously mistaken about that man," said he. " No proposition was ever clearer to me," was my reply. " It don't seem put on," said he ; " he seems to feel, and that deeply, everything he says." The next Sunday he desired an introduction to Mr. Beecher, declaring his intention to hear the greatest preacher in the two cities at every service and every prayer- meeting during his stay, and from that time to this, though nearly two thousand miles away, he will not brook that any one should say a word against Mr. Beecher. This case is only one of several of nearly the same interest that have come under vaj own obser- vation. ANALYSES OF HIS POWER, AND REMINISCENCES. 385 XXL By rev. father KEEGA.N, VICAR-GENERAL. Pastor of the York Street Roman Catholic Church, Brooklyn, New York. There are many subjects upon which Mr. Beecher and myself could not be in accord with each other. Our education and habits of life are very different. We have studied theology and ethics in schools almost in direct opposition to one another, yet I am proud to say that there are many things in which we are in perfect sympathy. In matters purely secular and in true philan- thropy, I regard Mr. Beecher as second to no man in the land ; he seems instinctively to love liberty and to hate tyranny and oppression. He has a heart to feel for the poor, and a hand ever ready to extend his charity to the distressed ; no matter to him when or where the cry of distress reaches him. Whether it be the sorrow and poverty at our own door, or whether the wail comes across the ocean, his mind is too comprehensive and his charity too cosmopolitan to make any distinction. I wish Mr. Beecher many years of happiness in this life, and eternal peace hereafter. XXIL By JESSE SELIGMAN, Of New York City. I EAGERLY cmbracc this opportunity to lay my tribute upon the altar of Mr. Beecher's fame. As a mere friend, one of the many warm admirers of the man and his career, admirers as numerous as the hundreds of thousands that at one time or another have been witnesses of his strength, I should hardly feel called 386 HENRY WARD BEECHER. upon to join in the cliorus of praise that so welcomes every occa- sion to do him honor. We have grown to look upon Mr. Bfiecher and honest, enthusiastic applause, almost as inseparable com- panions, and his place among the great public men of our day is unshakingly established. But it is not simply as a member of the same community, not simply as a fellow- American, that I seek to help bring home to him the admiration he everywhere commands. It is as the Jew, as one who speaks for that persecuted, long-suffering people, that at one time had almost forgotten to believe in aught but hard blows and misery. But, thank God, those old days of Ghetto and Inquisition are past ; ay, even the old days of Puritanism and tantalizing social oppression. Great, honest, sturdy, liberal- minded men have been at work, men with the spirit of God strong within them, to batter down the stubborn walls of bigotry and fanaticism ; men that felt the existence of the common father- hood of God and the brotherhood of man ; men that paved tlie way for a Declaration of Independence with its freedom and equality for all ; men, at length, of the mind and heart and soul of a Henry Ward Beechcr ! Even in these days of political enfranchisement, however, the Jew has known the galling yoke of social discrimination, and only yesterday the world had to protest against anti-Semitic agita- tions. Our people have had strong champions, stout defenders, but none more pronounced, more brave, more vigorous, none more emphatic in loyalty and friendship to this people than Mr. Beecher ; and therefore the Jew, as the Jew, demands as his special privilege the right to indulge his gratitude by bearing witness, not alone to the oratory, the learning, and the grace, but to the large heart, liberal mind, and public spirit of this eminent preacher. I am one of that large body who will always deem it a signal honor to be counted among the friends of Mr. Beecher. 1 ANALYSES OF HIS POWER, AND REMINISCENCES. 387 XXIII. By rev. T. J. CONANT, D.D. My acquaintance with the Rev. Henry Ward Beecher com- menced in the year 1847. It was on the occasion of his first Sabbath service with the Plymouth Church, of which he became the pastor. I heard him but once, and was struck with the fresh- ness and originality of his thoughts, then as ever since characteris- tic of the man. In the following year we again met at Hamilton, where I then resided. There, in the social circles in which w-e daily met, I saw much of his inward life ; and I observed in him traits of character that won my confidence and esteem, ripening at lenijth into a life-long friendship. For more than a quarter of a century he has been one of my most intimate and trusted friends, and no guest is more welcome in our family circle and at the fireside. Of the public labors and influence of a man so widely known, it is superfluous to speak. So far as I am aware, no other preacher in this country wields a personal influence over so many minds. Crowds throng the large assembly room, and crowds go away unable to obtain admission. His discourses are rich in practical instruction for old and young ; and his words of encour- agement, salutary warnings, and scathing rebukes of wrong, can- not fail of their effect. As I look round on that sea of upturned faces, I feel that the power he wields for good is not to be estimated. For though his speculative views are not all in accord with my own, yet in the main point, the scriptural doctrine of Christ as the central source of all spiritual life, the sinners' only hope of reconciliation with God and salvation from sin, is fully and earnestly set forth. Of his wide influence for good, beyond his own personal sphere, it is unnecessary for me to speak. His name will be held in long and grateful remembrance in our own and in other lands. 388 HENRY WARD BEECHER. XXIV. By prof. G. B. WILLCOX, D.D., Of the Congregational Theological Seminary, Chicago, Illinois. I HAVE long been .an admirer of Mr. Beecher and shall bewail the day when he shall be summoned away from among us. I say us, because he belongs to the whole country, not to Plymouth Church or Brooklyn alone. I suppose that is true of him, as a pulpit orator, which never has been true before of any preacher in this country, and, after his departure, never will be true again. It is this : if, in any company of intelligent persons, you should speak of the foremost preacher on this continent without mention- ing his name, nine persons in every ten would know whom you meant. We are not likely to see again a man who towers, in that way, like Saul, head and shoulders above his brethren. I suppose almost every one who has ever heard Mr. Beecher much has some one scene, or more, that is stamped indelibly on his memory. The one that I shall carry in memory to my grave was the speech in the old Tabernacle for the Edmonson sisters. You will remember that they were two of a party of seventy slaves who attempted to escape in the schooner Pearl from Alex- andria, Va. They were pursued, recaptured, brought back to the slave-pen, and these two young ladies (for they were ladies) were to be sold to New Orleans. They were attractive, and, as a thousand dollars apiece was demanded for them, while their labor would not be worth a third of that, everybody who heard of the case understood what fate awaited them. Bruin & Hill, the slave dealers, said they would as leave take an abolitionist's money as anybody's else. They gave the father of the young maidens a letter certifying their good character, especially as " Methodist Christians," and the old man, who was free, came North with his great burden of anguish, heavy as Pilgrim's load in the Slough of ANALYSES OF HIS POWER, AND REMINISCENCES. 389 Despond, begging for money to ransom his children from shame. He reached Mr. Beecher's house, which was the Mecca for all such pilgrims, and Mr. Beecher at once took him into his heart, and posters went out calling a meeting in the Tabernacle, with the Plymouth pastor as chief speaker. Of course the house was crammed. Mr. Beecher announced, early in his address, that he expected two thousand dollars from the audience before they left the house. He had the letter from Bruin (whose name ought to have been translated, he said) & Hill in his hand. He proceeded to read it, commenting as he went on. As he reached the phrase in which the writers commended the religious character of their chattels, " I can fancy," he said, " a scoffing demon standing behind to point over the shoulder of this trafficker in flesh and blood and the honor of womanhood, with long, skinny finger and a leer in his eye at this ' Christian slave ! ' " And then he went on to set forth the fact that all those qualities, which, if in the North they belonged to a free citizen, Avould raise his position and influence in society, would, in the South, if they belonged to a slave, only raise his price in the market. " Here," he said, " is a splendid fellow — a noble specimen of God's image carved in ebony — brought on the auction-block for sale. And the auctioneer tells ofi his points. He begins with his physical qualities. * A capital hand, gentlemen, six feet two in his stockings, well laced and braced with muscles, sound as a nut and stout as an ox — what do you bid?' 'Four hundred, '' five hundred,' bids coming slowly. And then he goes to the mental traits. * A quick-witted nigger, gentlemen ! As good a fellow for a driver as you ever had on your place. How much ? ' ' Six fifty,' ' seven hundred.' Then come the moral qualities. * As honest a fellow as the day is long, will take the proceeds of your cotton-crop to Charleston and in- vest, and bring back your bank certificates as well as you would do it yourselves — how much?' 'Seven fifty,' 'eight hundred.' ' And more than all that, gentlemen, they say he's one of these 24 390 HENRY WARD BEECHER. prayin' Methodist niggers, who bids ? ' 'A thousand ! ' * Fifteen hundred ! ' ' Two thousand ! ' ' Twenty-five hundred ! ' " I have seen audiences thrilled, but I hardly ever saw one so perfectly frenzied with excitement as they were, while that picture was drawn. He spoke for three quarters of an hour ; and then, hav- ing a secretary ready with writing materials, called for subscrip- tions. These ran up to about fifteen hundred dollars and then flagged. Mr. Beecher tramped the platform with another speech of perhaps fifteen minutes, and the pledge went up, with a bound, to two thousand. The sisters were brought North, and I attended a second meeting, congratulatory, at which they were present. My time fails, and I can add only in regard to the great Plym- outh Pastor, in whom I see faults, but in whom I have never lost faith, God bless him to the end of his days, and may his days be long. XXV. By rabbi LTLIENTHAL, D.D., Of Cincinnati, Ohio. The ancient rabbis used to say that " a wise man grows wiser and greater with his age." The adage applies to Henry Ward Beecher. Every one of his lectures and sermons, brimful of orig- inal thought, shows a continuous advance in " light and truth," that breast-plate motto of the High Priest in Jerusalem. There is not a spark of prejudice or intolerance in Beecher. We always find him on the side of liberty and liberality, of right against might, a stern, stout advocate of all the oppressed and per- secuted. We Israelites hailed with thanksgiving his thundering protest against the anti-Semitic agitation in Germany. He does not bow to public opinion ; public opinion bows to him. Wher- ANALYSES OF HIS POWER, AND REMINISCENCES. 393 ever a prejudice, and let it be never so deeply rooted, lurks in the dark ; wherever misuse or abuse, the inheritance of obsolete custom and ages, resists the bright influence of the nineteenth century, Beecher fearlessly enters the lists, and challenges the enemy with a boldness that has won for him the admiration and applause of both continents. There is life in his words, and the life questions which he handles and elucidates in his unique and masterly manner, continue to secure to him the hearts of the people. He is both American and cosmopolitan, and therefore the enlightened of every creed, race, and color, love and applaud this great thinker, preacher, and orator. My prayer is that as many years of such usefulness as have been vouchsafed to him in the past may yet be spared to him. XXVI. By rev. GEORGE DOUGLASS, LL.D., Of the Wesleyan Theological University, Montreal, Canada. The colossal grandeur of Mr. Beecher' s endowment and char- acter is such that I feel utterly inadequate to pen anything worthy his peerless powers. Nearly thirty years have come and gone since I first heard him on a bright autumnal morning. That dis- course on " The Trial of Faith " was to me a new revelation and is as fresh in my memory, while I dictate this, as the hour I heard it. For more than twenty years I read his discourses in The In- dependent and elsewhere. I have been obliged to study the his- tory of the pulpit from the post-apostolic, patristic, and mediaeval ages downward, and I declare my solemn conviction, a conviction which I constantly affirm, that the ages have never produced a man so marvellously endowed as Mr. Beecher. I hold that he unveils the character of God, expounds the principles of his govern- 394 HENRY WARD BEECHER. nient in its material and ethical relations, propounds tlie philosophy of human life with an original power that I, at least, cannot find elsewhere in literature ; while his perennial power of illustration, which springs from his mind fresh and clear as the crystal fountain, with the undertone of reverential regard and pervarling unction, makes him a preacher without an equal in the past or a compeer in the present. The pregnant future holds many a surprise, but I greatly doubt if a man, take him all in all, will be found in the pulpit so regally endowed for a thousand years to come. XXVII. By general CLINTON B. FISK. I HAVE loved Henry Ward Beecher for thirty-three years. When I was a boy-merchant and visited New York from the West to purchase goods, I did not fail to hear him preach one or more times during my frequent sojourns there. His words in- spired me with ambition to be a good man. I was by his minis- trations brought nearer to my Lord and Saviour, Jesus Christ. I was inspired by him to hate slavery, to love my country, and do all I could to promote the cause of Liberty and Union. I have ever regarded him as the most remarkable man of these times, as the ablest and most eloquent preacher of the gospel in his day and generation. In some things I have not been in hearty sympathy with him, and I have wished that he had done some things differ- ently ; yet I have remembered that he was human, and that words and actions I might criticise were but his title deeds to a place in our common humanity. Of his absolute integrity of heart and purpose, of his unquestionable purity of life and thought, I have never had a shadow of doubt, and when the storms beat upon him I drew the closer to his side, and there remain and expect to stay ANALYSES OP HIS POWER, AND REMINISCENCES. 395 until we strike glad hands of fellowship where all hearts will be open to the scrutiny of the just, made perfect in the pre&^nce of Him who has blessed the world by giving to it so noble and true a man. May the Lord preserve him for many years to prea^b the Gospel, and inspire his fellow- men to lead manly, Christian, b*ave lives, is the prayer of one who would be glad to say more for one whom he loves as a father, teacher, and guide. XXVIII. By JOHN G. WHITTIER. Henry Ward Beecher is unmistakably one of the most re- markable men of his time. His fame as a pulpit orator has gone wherever the English language is spoken. On the platform he has few equals. As a life-long friend of freedom he has gained what Milton calls " a freehold of rejoicing to him and his heirs" in the emancipation of the slave. I scarcely know how to class him as a theologian, but it seems to me that his influence has been felt throughout Protestantism in softening intolerance, and promoting brotherly love and charity ; as a citizen and patriot he has never been found wanting in acts of private beneficence or the public advocacy t>f the great interests of his country. His noble vindi- cation of the cause of the Union during our civil war against the denunciations of the English press and the violence of English mobs endeared him to all loyal hearts. The slave, the prisoner, the poor, the sick and afflicted are his friends. I had never the pleasure of hearing him but once. He was in his Plymouth pulpit, and in the midst of his immense and sympa- thizing audience. His sermon was a most eloquent presentation of the gospel of love, warm, tender and irresistibly attractive. Listening to it I could well understand the secret of his general popularity and the intense admiration of his immediate friends. 396 HENRY WARD BEECHER. XXIX. By rev. EUGENE BERSIER, D.D., Pastor of the Reformed Church of Paris, France. In response to your letter, in whicli you do rae the honor to address me on the subject of " Henry Ward Beecher, " I am eager to reply that, although few of his lectures and sermons have been translated into French, he is known to our people. I have often had occasion to speak about him in the journal published by my colleague, M. Pressense. I have cited several of his admirable protestations against slavery, and these citations have largely con- tributed to enlighten the thought in proving that the most energetic Christian faith is to be found in detestation of all oppression. This is the secret of his great force of thought. I remember, when quite young, in 1850, in the United States, I received a very vivid impression in hearing Henry Ward Beecher in the Plymouth Tabernacle. This sermon, so new, so vivid, so aggressive, revealed to me a new way of preaching, from which later on I tried to profit. I should feel very happy if this testimony can be placed in his biography. By rev. DAVID SWING, D.D., Of Chicago. [AN EXTEACT FEOM A SEEMON SENT BY THE AUTHOE FOR PUBLICATION IN THIS VOLUME.] Society is engaged chiefly in the effort to become established in the right path. It has always been pondering the way over which ANALYSES OF HIS POWER, AND REMINISCENCES. 397 it lias been making its long march. Politics is a pondering over the way of the State, agriculture a study of the fields, mechanics a study of forces and the application of these forces. Crossing into the moral world the author of these ancient proverbs advises all of us to ponder that peculiar path, and if possible find or make solid, enduring ways. The claim of Christianity that it is an inspired way and truth does not terminate this wonderment, for the in- quiry. What do the words of the sacred books mean ? rises and faithfully follows the mind of man. Man as a Christian or as a student of truth or as a religionist in the widest sense cannot per- haps ever reach a point in wisdom and virtue at which he can cease from his labors over the problem of religion. If he affirms that his Bible is inspired he will be perplexed with the question, What is that inspiration ? if he believes that his sin has been atoned for, he will not easily determine the question, What is that atonement ? if he becomes fully assured that there is a future life, he will be followed all through this world by many and varying surmises as to what may be the nature of the future lot of the righteous and the wicked. This debate, sometimes loud and some- times soft, will never close, for only the Infinite can know any- thing to perfection. Upon each part of man's landscape there falls something of shadow. Any one looking out at the present time must perceive that some new interpreters of Christianity have come and have come in quite a fulness of power, and have, as by the hands of giants, hurled upon our times new mountains of thought. We were all reminded a few days ago that one of these sons of a new thunder, and the greatest of all those who are speaking in our century, has been standing in one pulpit for thirty-three years. lie is now baptizing little children whose fathers and mothers he baptized when they were too young to speak or walk. Thirty-three years of religious eloquence rolling forth from an unrivalled mind and from a warm, tumultuous heart, what a spectacle even in our world 398 HENRY WARD BEECHER. of wonders ! Having descended by lineage and having ascended by his mind and soul from an old and quite iron-like shape of Christianity, Henry Ward Beeclier stands in a significant sense for oar Christian period, and with more or less distinctness pro- claims the quality of the recent interpretations of the religion of the Man of Nazareth. He possessed in the outset of his career a rare intellect, a mind like that of Goethe's, which is said to ha^^c looked out through a thousand eyes, and to such an all-sweeping sight he added a sympathetic heart which could see quickly and well the wants of the populace. In this one preacher intellectual greatness and emotional greatness met and fitted him for making a logical survey of the Christian theories and a benevolent study of man. Reason and kindness combined in this one priest at the altar. Imagination, fancy, wit, pathos, language, originality, great -enthusiasm, great happiness and great physical power are some of the virtues and blessings which a kind Heaven bestowed upon this most favored child. He almost contradicts that fable of the nightingale which teaches us that nature never grants all good to any one individual. Coming into the work of the ministry over forty years ago, he has from the beginning of his active ser- vice been a new interpreter of the words and laws and dreams of the prevailing Christianity, He has been revivalist and philoso- pher and philanthropist and poet and politician and theologian quite judiciously mingled, and thus has moved along, not as a cannon-ball, which cuts a narrow path, but as a gulf stream which finds room only in an ocean and which sweeps from a Mexico to a Labrador. This man has not made all of the recent interpreta- tions of Christianity, but he has been a very potent agency in the direction of reformed thought. Through the first thirty years of this significant ministry the condition and rights and hopes of the American slaves entered into each sermon to attract an audience and to thrill them when attracted, and thus what new renderings of the cardinal doctrines came from this popular orator enjoyed ANALYSES OF HIS POWER, AND REMINISCENCES. 399 tlie advantage of being decorated by charity and of being heard by an audience and a" country already fully aroused by sympathy for the oppressed Africans. Abolitionism or emancipation and full liberty and equality became the musical accompaniment of what was said by the same voice about the atonement or inspira- tion or hell or heaven. By the time the chains of the slave had fallen many theological chains had also fallen. While truth for the black man was being thought out there was in preparation at the same forge truth for the white man in the shop or field or church. The brain that was so busy with the effort to make the Gospels apply to the cabin of the negro was making religion apply to the cottage of the white man, and was making havoc in general of all abstruse and abstract theology. In seeking a religion for a few, Mr. Beecher uncovered a religion for all, and thus while de- vising a faith for a cotton-field he helped develop one for a conti- nent. In such a large and colossal form does Mr. Beecher seem to my own gaze stepping along through those thirty-three years he has just closed. It is diflficult to make a survey of such a career without ceasing to be a calm critic and becoming a worshipper. In the presence of such mental resources and such a fame the heart feels enthu- siastic in admiration, and would ask all the language of praise to come to memory and help compose a eulogy, but I must resist such temptation far enough to confess that Mr. Beecher has not been a clear or formal exponent of a new Christianity, not always a wise adviser, nor has he always been in harmony with himself ; but when we all remember with what a power of logic and rhetoric he has asserted and maintained the truths of right and charity, the existence of a personal God, the divineness of Christ, the nearness of the mortal to the gates of immortality, all the now re- membered errors or discords weigh but little in even the most exact balances. I see before me forty years of valuable service. I stand by a stream of eloquence which all through these many 400 HENRY WARD BEECHER. summers lias never once gone dry nor fallen low, but whicli has run bank-full of waters sweet and bright. To this greatest name upon one side of the ocean must be added some master minds upon that other margin of the sea whence came all our early good. Thomas Arnold of Rugby memory was a forerunner of the popular Christianity of to-day. He went out of the world's service just as Mr. Beecher was coming into it, and had done amid English graduates and learned men of the kingdom what our coming pulpiteer was about to begin among the people — make Christianity a life rather than a formula. Doctor Arnold had ho use for a strict theological system ; but for a religion that would make a student truthful and kind, and that would make a thousand boys all one in rank and all brotherly feelings, he had daily need ; and so powerful was that Rugby Master that what he planned for an academy became a revelation to an empire. As Mr. Beecher passed from a slave pen to a continent, so Arnold of Rugby uttered in a schoolhouse thoughts which spread out and col- ored a century. By rev. ATTICUS G. HAYGOOD, D.D., President of Emory College, Oxford, Georgia, and Editor of the "Wesleyan Christian Advocate ' ' at Macon. [DESCRIPTION OF A VISIT TO PLYMOUTH CHUECH, FKOM THE "WESLEYAN CHRISTIAN ADVOCATE."] In the morning we heard Mr. Beecher. The polite usher pointed out a sort of waiting seat where we, with many others, could rest and watch, till the regular pew-holders were provided for, promising a better place later on. It turned out well — our temporary seat gave a fine view of the congregation as the people came in, first by ones, then by twos, and a little before preaching, ANALYSES OF HIS POWER, AND REMINISCENCES. 401 by scores. No one came in after the services began that we saw or heard. Mark this ! Such a crowd as that which meets in Plymouth Church, Brook- lyn, is enough to inspire any man with a soul in him. There was hardly ever a plainer front to a better audience-room. Mr. Beecher's auditorium has this high merit in a Proliestant church — it was arranged for hearers and not for mere gazers. The Gothic, as it is called, belongs properly to the Roman Catholics ; it is adapted to spectacular exhibitions and to " aesthetic" effects. But Gothic architecture is no friend to the hearing ear. In Plym- outh Church people can hear every word ; our place was in the gallery, but the lowest tones of the preacher were distinct. Even his distinct and perfectly natural articulation could not overcome some audience-rooms we have seen. Much has been said of the singing at Mr. Beecher's Church, but not too mucli. Louder congregational singing we have heard, as at the Tabernacle Sunday night, more exquisite music, as at Grace Church in the afternoon, but Plymouth Church has the best combination of organ music, choir-singing, and congregational singing, we have ever enjoyed. It was a delight to join in the songs. How stirring and evangelical they were ! Nothing was so perfectly satisfactory to us in the preacher's part of the service as the prayers. We could say amen, all the way through, and every time. Simple, direct, comprehensive, reverent, tender, they went right into people's hearts. They must surely be answered. The reading of the Scripture lessons was as if one were reading a good and loving letter from a saintly friend to his family. What mouthing some men do make in reading the Scriptures to the congregations ! Twice after that morning ser- vice we heard wretched reading. Would that we could forget some tones we heard that day. Mr. Beecher's text was Gal. 5 : 22, 23. His style is strong, clear, pointed, suited to his thought, and, to the hearer's eye and ear, utterly without effort or 403 HENRY WARD BEECHER. pretence. There is no straining after effect either upon himself or his congregation. Ornaments there were plenty, if illustrations, fresh and dewy, and perfectly adapted to their purpose, are to be called ornaments. But there was no arranging of bouquets, that the flowers might be admired. His figures were as natural as were the lovely flowers on the rostrum — fresh that morning from some conservatory — before they were gathered. There was phil- osophic order in the sermon without a technicality ; joints where joints ought to be, but well concealed and as noiseless as were the hinges of the broad doors that opened to welcome the people. There was quick intuition without mystical vapors ; exegesis with- out the hint of it in terms, application without a reminder to the people that it was being made. Now and then a flash of genial, smile-evoking humor, without a taint of coarseness, and two or three. times a glow of pathos without passion. As to his manner of speaking, we wish that all young preachers could hear him, not to imitate him, for that would be as ridiculous as vain — but to catch a hint of the most perfect naturalness we have ever seen in any orator. The man who can avoid mere gaucheries and awkwardness and then be just himself in posture, gesture, tone, and emphasis can learn this lesson. It is the old lesson of David putting off even the splendid armor of a king, be- cause it was not his own and he had not " proved it." Fairly considered, the sermon was spiritual and evangelical. If we were to take some sentences and paragraphs out of their con- nection, they would be considered almost heresies. So taken they would be heresies. Take the sermon as a whole, and what he did not say that, from our standpoint, was necessary to the statement of complete truth, was implied. This question occurred to us while we listened with charmed ear and deeply moved heart. Does this great congregation bring these grand half-truths to- gether ? It is to be hoped they did. Mr. Beecher and his congregation have, we cannot question, so ANALYSES OF HIS POWER, AND REMINISCENCES. 403 acted and reacted upon eacli other, that no just estimate of one can be formed if the other be left out. Nothing is more natural than that so vigorous, so creative a mind as Mr. Beecher's, acting under the stimulus of the mighty- tides of life that rise and fall in this vast double city, like the tides in the sea, will be fresh in its weekly deliverances. But this fascinating power — as dangerous to the preacher as to his hearers — must pay this penalty ; there is a constant and almost resistless tendency to the utterance of half-truths. But there is a vast dif- ference : in some pulpits half-truths are due to meagrcness, in others to exuberance. Mr. Beecher's half-truths are not at all due to meagreness — his mind is as full of growths as an Amazonian forest. But in such a forest there are some hurtful growths. With such a mind the tendency is to push statements so far that the truth loses its full-orbed symmetry by exaggeration. We must believe that some sentences in the sermon we heard, remem- bered alone and out of their connection, were harmful. It may be they were not so remembered, for the attention of the great congregation seemed to be perfect. If there was any difference the choir people were the best listeners — a most rare circumstance. What we have here said of Mr. Beecher and his preaching relates only to what we heard from him on this one occasion, and not to what we have been hearing of him for more than twenty years. More and more — we have learned it from experience — we hesitate to form opinions from what we hear about men. This is Tuesday night ; perhaps we should say Wednesday morning, and our feeling is this : We want to hear Mr. Beecher preach again. THE MINISTER PLENIPOTENTIAEY. By O. W. HOLMES. (Prom the Atlantic Monthly, January, 1864.) Mr. Henry Ward Beecher went to Great Britain already well known at home as the favorite preacher of a large parish, an advocate of certain leading reforms, one of the most popular lecturers of the country, a bold, outspoken, fertile, ready, crowd- compelling orator, whose reported sermons and speeches were fuller of catholic humanity than of theological subtilties, and whose sympathies were of that lively sort which are apt to leap the sectarian fold and find good Christians in every denomination. He was welcomed by friendly persons on the other side of the Atlantic, partly for these merits, partly also as " the son of the celebrated Dr. Beecher," and " the brother of Mrs. Beecher Stowe." After a few months' absence he returns to America, having fin- ished a more remarkable embassy than any envoy who has repre- sented us in Europe since Franklin pleaded the cause of the young Republic at the Court of Versailles. He kissed no royal hand, he talked with no courtly diplomatists, he was the guest of no titled legislator, he had no official existence. But through the heart of the people he reached nobles, ministers, courtiers, the throne it- self. . . . Mr. Beecher's European story is a short one in time, but a long one in events. He went out a lamb, a tired clergyman in need of THE MINISTER PLENIPOTENTIARY. 405 travel ; and as sucli lie did not strive, nor cry, nor did any man hear his voice in the streets. But in the den of lions where his pathway led him, he remembered his own lion's nature, and uttered his voice to such effect that its echoes, in the great vaulted caverns of London and Liverpool, are still reaching us, as the sound of the woodman's axe is heard long after the stroke is seen, as the light of the star shines upon us many days after its departure from the source of radiance. 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 pro- nounced on the twentieth of the same month in Exeter Hall. He has himself furnished us an analysis of the train of repre- sentations and arguments of which this protracted and many- jointed oration was made up. At Manchester he attempted to give a history of that series of political movements, extending through half a century, the logical and inevitable end of which was open conflict between the two opposing forces of freedom and slavery. At Glasgow his discourse seems to have been almost un- premeditated. A meeting of one or two temperance advocates, who had come to greet him as a brother in their cause, took on " quite accidentally " a political character, and Mr. Beecher grati- fied 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 harangue. First, he very good-humoredly defines his position on the tem- perance question and then naturally slides into some self -revela- tions which we who know him accept as the simple expression of the man's character. This plain speaking made him at home among strangers more immediately, 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 strug- gle. I never could help doing it." 406 HENRY WARD BEECHER. 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 person 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 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 moment. Mr. Beecher is a strong, healthy man, in mind and body. His nerves have never been cor- rugated with alcohol ; his thinking marrow is not brown with tobacco-fumes like a meerschaum, as are the brains of so many unfortunate Americans ; 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 chief est among their foot-ball kickers. He has the simple frankness of a man who feels himself to be perfectly sound, in bodily, mental, 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, everybody feels after he .has addressed them once or twice, that they know him well, almost as if they had always known him ; and there is not a man in the land who has such a multi- tude that look upon him as if he were their brother. Having magnetized his Glasgow audience, he continued the sub- ject already opened at Manchester by showing, in the midst of that great toiling population, the deadly influence exerted by slavery in bringing labor into contempt, and its ruinous conse- quences to the free workingman everywhere. In Edinburgh he explained how the nation grew up out of sepa- rate states, each jealous of its special sovereignty ; how the strug- gle for the control of the united nation, after leaving it for a long THE MINISTER PLENIPOTENTIARY. 407 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 a 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." Ib 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 un- folded before his audience the plan and connection of his previous addresses, 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 conscience, 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 con- tending for its own existence and that of popular 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 the question gradually emerged, in politics ; the encroachments of the South, until they reached the judiciary itself ; he repeated to 25 408 HENRY WARD BEECHER. them the admissions of Mr. Stephens as to the preponderating in- fluence the South had all along held in the Government. An interruption obliged him to explain that adjustment of our State and National Governments which Englishmen seem to find so hard to understand. Nothing shows his peculiar powers to more ad- vantage than just such interruptions. Then he displays his felici- tous facility of illustration, his familiar way of bringing a great question 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. Having cleared up this matter so that our cousins understood the relations of the dough and the apple in our national dump- ling, to borrow one of their royal reminiscences — having eulogized 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. Beecher went on to show how the North could not help fighting when it was attacked, and to give the reasons that made it necessary to fight, reasons which none but a consistent Friend or avowed non-resistant can pretend to dispute. His ordinary style in speaking is pointed, staccatoed, as is that of most success- ful extemporaneous speakers ; he is " short-gaited ;" the move- ment of his thoughts is that of the chopping sea, rather than the long, rolling, rhythmical wave-procession of phrase-balancing rhetoricians. But when the lance has pricked him deep enough, when the red flag has flashed in his face often enough, when the fireworks have hissed and sputtered around him long enough, when the cheers have warmed him so that all his life I THE MINISTER PLENIPOTENTIARY. 409 is roused, then his intellectual sparkle becomes a steady glow, and his nimble sentences change their form, and become long- drawn, stately periods. " 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 who poured 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 succes- sors of those renowned men that were our own ancestors as much as yours, and whose example and principles we inherit to make fruitful as so much seed-corn in a new and fertile land, then you will understand 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 Englishmen listened to nobler words, fuller of the true soul of eloquence ? Never surely since their nation entered the abdominous period of its existence, recognized in all its ideal portraits, for which food and sleep are the prime conditions of well-being. Yet the old instinct which has made the name of Englishman glorious in the past was there in the audience before him, and there was " immense cheering," relieved by some slight colubrine demonstrations. He showed the monstrous absurdity of England's attacking us for fighting, and for fighting to uphold a principle. " On what shore has not the prow of your ships dashed ? What land is there wuth a name and a people where your banner has not led your soldiers ? And when the great resurrection reveille shall sound, it will muster British 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 410 HENRY WARD BEECHER. first had bows and arrows ; the second have shafts, but no bows to launch them. " How about the Russians ?" Everybody remembers 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 flirt- ing with Mr. Mason at your Lord Mayor's banquet." A cleaner and straighter "counter" than that, if we may change the image to one his audience would apj^reciate better, is hardly to be found in the records of British pugilism. The orator concluded by a rather sanguine statement of his change of opinion as to British sentiment, of the assurance he should carry back 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 meeting dis- solved, 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 powwows, 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 MR. BEEUHER COMPARED WITH OTHERS. 411 period of human existence. A new heaven is forming over our head behind the curtain of clouds which rises from our smoking battle-fields. A new earth is shaping 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. By H. R. HAWEIS. {From the Contemporary Review, Vol. XIX., 1872.) It would be no compliment to call Henry Ward Beecher the American Spurgeon. He may be that, but he is more. If we can imagine Mr. Spurgeon and Mr. John Bright with a cautious touch of Mr. Maurice and a strong tincture of the late F. W. Rob- ertson— if, I say, it is possible to imagine such a compound being brought up in New England, and at last securely fixed in a New York pulpit, we shall get a product not unlike Henry Ward Beecher. Mr. Beecher is quite as remarkable for what he lacks as for what he possesses. With the exception of a strong and energetic personality which is highly original, he is almost without origi- nality. He has no mental monomania, no idiosyncrasy, no new *' doctrine," no new " tongue," no new " revelation ;" and it is altogether remarkable that the two most prominent preachers in England and America respectively should be alike in this, that they have added nothing to the fertile field of theological d( gma- tism. Perhaps we ought to be thankful for the omission — it may r ~~'" 412 HENRY WARD BEECHER. dawning upon a world " weary of the heat and dust of contro- versy." .... The days of stilted preaching are over. If a man has got any- thing to say people are, and always will be, glad to hear him ; but if he has nothing to say let him hold his peace. Never was there a greater impatience with mere rhetoric than in these latter days. People may say that whole speeches of Mr. Gladstone are mere rhetoric, but what seems only rhetoric to persons out of sympathy with the Premier (1 S7l) is not rhetoric to him or to those who un- derstand him, it is merely the expression of a power to will and to do. When a man's words are understood to mean this he will be listened to in the Senate or in the pulpit, and he will have the priv- ilege of conveying his meaning in any way he pleases. Mr. Henry Ward Beecher fully avails himself of this privilege. Nothing comes amiss to him. As for the dignity of the pulpit, he knows of no dig- nity save the dignity of doing good, of winning men by all means, of talking common-sense in the most forcible manner possible. Like almost every great preacher, Mr. Beecher is a real humor- ist ; his satire burns, but it does not harden ; he will laugh men out of their sins if he cannot otherwise persuade them, and he will show how very ridiculous an action may be, when he feels that no other kind of denunciation is likely to affect his hearers. There is one very amiable and singular trait about his teaching. It is the justice usually done to his opponents. He will show what he thinks good in them ; he will state their case for them, perhaps better than they could state it for themselves, and when the point of an- tagonism is reached, instead of scolding them with polemical invec- tive, he will hold not them but their erroneous opinions up to the mildest, most good-natured, but most irresistible ridicule. . . . But it is now time to turn from general characteristics to the subject-matter itself of Mr. Henry Ward Beecher's preaching which we venture to say will bear a little close attention. His fertility and freshness are alike remarkable. SOLID COMMON-SENSE. 413 " I asked," says a casual attendant at Mr. Beecher's church, " -I asked a gentleman who sat behind me whether he was a regu- lar attendant, and if so whether he remarked any difference in the quality of the sermons or any repetition. He said, ' I have sat here five years and I never heard any man repeat himself so little. I have heard other celebrated preachers, and have heard no one equal to him ; as for the sermon to-day it was not better or worse than his discourses in general. It was an average sermon.' " And this is quite the impression left on the reader who chooses to study — we will not say wade through, for it is more light reading than wading — the six volumes before us. A man who undertakes to treat the whole of human life from the moral stand-point has set himself no easy task. He who would do justice to all the various theological tendencies of his own age has entered upon a field of difficult and perilous action, from which he can scarcely expect to issue perfectly unscathed. And yet it is astonishing how on the whole, Mr. Beecher manages to justify his own description of himself as reasonably orthodox. The late Mr. F. W. Robertson managed to draw the teeth of many an offensive dogma, by attaching a highly spiritual meaning to the doctrinal letter. This is not always Mr. Beecher's method, but the most exasperating shibboleths become harmless in his hands, owing to his singular faculty of seeing a common-sense side to every question ; in short, his Gospel is emphatically the Gospel of Common-Sense. In his highest flights of thought, in his deepest expressions of religious feeling, he never loses a certain solid sobriety. To combine this with an impetuous temperament and a burning enthusiasm, such as he undoubtedly possesses, is a rare if not an original gift. How well Mr. Beecher employs thought and passion, common-sense and a quite mystical religious fervor, perhaps they only can quite estimate who, to use a slang expres- sion, " sit under him." 414 ) HENRY WARD BEEGHER. By REV. W. M. TAYLOR, D.D.* (From the Scottish Review, October, 1859.) In Boston tlie liuman race is divided into ' ' the Good, the Bad, and the Beechers," and very quaintly does this division indicate that the Beecher family is distinguished from every other by cer- tain characteristic traits which yet defy all attempts at ordinary classification. Their greatest enemies cannot pronounce them to be positively bad, and their most enthusiastic admirers cannot declare that they are perfectly good ; therefore, by common consent, they have been put into a category by themselves. Now, that this should be the case, argues the possession of great mental ability as well as singularity, by the members of this famous family. They have made tTiemselves felt and known as something different from the common run of mortals ; they have grafted a new branch on to the tree of intellect, so that in New England it is suflScient to insure for a man a reputation for mental vigor, if he only be " a Beecher." And yet this family reputation is not of an entirely unmixed character, for the proverb to which we have referred places them between the good and the bad, as having certain peculiarities which would connect them with both. Nat, indeed, that there is anything morally questionable about them, or that there is any want of decision in themselves, for the reverse of this is notoriously the case, but rather that their great excellencies cast, perhaps from their very greatness, certain deep and dark shadows, which, in the estimation of multitudes, are very grave defects. In a word, the Beechers are reputed a " peculiar peo- ple," whose excellencies by some are accounted defects, whose de- * The parts omitted from this article, indicated by the asterisks, are those which have been quoted iu the body of the book. BEECHER STANDS UNRIVALLED. 415 fects by others are accounted excellencies, but who, as it respects both of these, are by all acknowledged to be different from others. Now, if we were required to define the position, as a preacher, occupied by him whose name stands at the head of this article, we could not doit better than by dividing pulpit orators into " the Good, the Bad, and Beecher. " He stands decidedly by himself ; he cannot be classified ; he is in fact a class by himself ; he is Beecher, and that is the most expressive description that can be given of him. But admitting that he stands alone, the sole rep- resentative of his school, the question presents itself, What is the character of that school ? To this question, alike in his native country and our own, very different answers have been given. Some have said he is trashy, flashy, and ridiculous ; and others have maintained that he is marked by silly affectation and high- sounding pretentiousness ; but since the publication of these twin series of " Life Thoughts," we greatly mistake if the general im- pression do not now become that he is one of the most earnest, sim- ple-minded, natural, impassioned, and many-gifted men this age has seen. He has things about him, which, like dead flies, may seem to mar the precious ointment, but it is precious for all that ; and though his occasional sallies of wit, or his strong, coarse, unrelenting denunciation of all oppressions and shams, or his un- disguised and not over-nicely expressed contempt for cant, may appear to identify him with the low and vulgar, yet his genuine sympathy with the down-trodden and neglected, his love of the beautiful in nature and art, his " poet's eye in a fine frenzy roll- ing," his child-like simplicity and guilelessness, his moral courage in the vindication of right against might, and his attachment to the simple gospel of the blessed God, ally him to the good and true of every age, and place him in the fore-front of his own. Indeed, this is already beginning to be admitted in America, as a thing conclusively established. When first he appeared in Brook- lyn, and crowds thronged around him, men shook their heads and 416 HENRY WARD BEECHER. said, " It's only novelty, it will soon cease ;" but now for nearly twelve years * it has continued, nay increased, and people feel there must be something in it. When the annual sale of pews has reached $25,000 ; when, Sabbath after Sabbath, boat-loads of people cross from New York to enjoy his ministrations ; when merchants from the Far West have it entered in their note-books when they come to the metropolis, " Mem. to hear Beecher ;" when even individuals from the Southern States, with all their deep-rooted prejudices against the anti-slavery advocate, have been so won over by his preaching as to seek an introduction to him- self ; there must, we repeat, be something in it ; and when we look into these " Life Thoughts," fragmentary though they be, we are at no loss to discover what that something is. The man from whose pulpit such precious jewels so constantly fall cannot be other than a man of genius, and if their setting be at all in keeping with their own intrinsic beauty, he has a right to the highest degree of popularity. It were easy to substan- tiate this by endless quotations from the books referred to, but as they must be already in the hands of all our readers, we prefer to gather up from them and other sources the various characteristics by which Henry Ward Beecher is distinguished, and thus bring into a clearer light the true position and mission of this remarkable man. It may serve, however, to gratify a laudable curiosity, as well as to illustrate the proverbial allusion with which we commenced, if, before going farther, we briefly enumerate a few biographical de- tails. Mr. Beecher was born at Litchfield, Connecticut, on the 24th of June, 1813 ; his father, the well-known Dr. Lyman Beecher, who occupies a high place among the theologians of America, was at that time a minister of the gospel there, but was afterward appointed to a tutorship in the Lane Seminary, Cincin- * Now about thirty-five years. HIS TEMPERANCE PRINCIPLES. 417 nati, at wliich, after graduating at Amherst College, his son Henry studied. The family were originally, on the father's side, from Kent, and on the mother's side from Wales, so that, as an American critic says, " the blood of the Beechers received a happy mixture of Welsh blood, with its poetry and music, and its insatia- ble love of genealogy, ' ' Mr. Beecher is one of thirteen children, the great majority of whom are now living. Ilis mother, who is described as a womf:n of rare endowments, fine taste, acute intellect, and delicate appre- ciation of the beautiful alike in art and nature, died when he was little more than a babe. Her calm, poetical, Madame Guion-like character impressed every one who came under her influence, and though our author was too young fully to comprehend its nature, he was yet old enough to be considerably moulded by its power. Frequently does he refer to her in his discourses, and if, in the strength of his intellect, one may read a likeness to his father, from his mother he inherits those finer affinities with the beautiful and imaginative by w^hich he is distinguished. The other mem- bers of the family are all more or less eminent in literature or theology. AVe may only mention Miss Catherine E. Beecher, Dr. Edward Beecher, author of the " Conflict of Ages," and Mrs. Harriet Beecher Stowe, the gifted authoress of " Uncle Tom's Cabin." Thus, in the case of the Beechers, as in that of the Gregories, the Abercrombies, the Browns, and others among our- selves, intellect and authorship seem to run in the blood, and are looked for as things of course. This appears to be true also of Mr. Beecher' s temperance principles. Every one has heard of those six sermons on intemperance, to which our old friend James Stirling owed so much ; but it may not be so generally known that the person from whom he takes his name, Henry Ward, his mother's father, honorably distinguished himself, when an officer in the French and Indian war, at the capture of Louisburg, by refusing to receive the usual rum rations. He obtained money 418 HENRY WARD BEECHER. instead and had it made into spoons, which were marked ' ' Louis- burg," and are still preserved in the family. Mr. Beecher commenced his labors in the ministry in 1837, as the pastor of a Presbyterian church at Lawrenceburgh, Dearborn County, Indiana. He remained here two years, and then removed to Indianapolis, the capital of the State, where he continued until he accepted the invitation of the new Congregational Church in Brooklyn, New York, over which he was installed in October, 1847. He is now in his 44th year ; but is described as much younger in his appearance, and possessed of great physical strength and liv6liness. His face at first sight is not very attractive ; but it is exceedingly susceptible of impression from within, and you may mark thought after thought passing over it almost as dis- tinctly as you perceive the shadow and the sunshine chasing each other across the field. The chief feature of his countenance is his large, full, blue eye, which, while at rest, has a dreamy look, but when he is excited flashes out with that true lightning that ever accompanies the thunder roll of eloquence. The first look at him will be sure to disappoint ; but if we will only have patience and wait until the impassioned inspiration comes, all possible descrip- tion will be far exceeded. As he enters the pulpit, or rather as he mounts the platform, for he has no pulpit, he might almost be mistaken for a butcher in his Sunday clothes ; but let him get into his subject, and anon, as some beautiful and feeling utterance comes welling up from the fountain of his soul, his face begins to shine as if it were an angel's ; or as he pours out the vials of his indignation on some flagrant wrong, the darkness of the storm gathers on his brow and the sternness of passion sits upon his lips. His forehead is high rather than broad ; his cheeks bare ; his mouth compressed and firm, with humor lurking and almost laughing in the corners ; his collar turned over a la Byron, more perhaps for the comfort of his ears (as he is exceed- ingly short-necked) than for any love for that peculiar fashion. FEATURES OF HIS MINISTRY. 419 His voice is full of music, in which, by the way, he is a great proficient. His body is well developed, and his great maxim is to keep it in first-rate working order, for he considers health to be a Chris- tian duty, and rightly deems it impossible for any man to do jus- tice to his mental faculties without at the same time attending to his physical. His motions are quick and elastic, and his manners frank, cordial, and kind, such as to attract rather than to repel the advances of others. With children he is an especial favorite ; they love to run up to him and offer him little bundles of flowers, of which they know him to be passionately fond, and they deem themselves more than rewarded by the hearty " Thank you," and the tender look of loving interest that accompanies liis accept- ance of their gift. Add to this that his benevolence is limited only by his means, and our readers will have a pretty good idea of his general character and personal appearance. * * * * * * * But another great feature of his public ministry is to be found in the importance and value which he uniformly attaches to man. He sees nothing in the world that can at all be compared in value to the human soul ; and he places man above all God's works. He believes, indeed, in the doctrine of depravity, but, as himself once expressed it, " he would not make his nest on it ;" that is to say, it is not with him the most important and central truth. It is not the key-note of his preaching ; the love of God in Christ, and not the sin of man strikes that, and he sings a major, not a minor tune. He lets others tell of the depths into which man has fallen, hh theme is ever one of hope and restoration. He believes that man, depraved though he be, has a value that is not possessed by other created beings, angels alone excepted. He weighs him in the bal- ance of the Cross, and reckons that the ransom which was paid on it alone can tell the worth of that which was redeemed. He looks 420 HENRY" WARD BEECHER. thus at the great fact of the atonement from the human side of it, as showing that men are " unspeakably precious, and vahiable be- yond all computation." To man, therefore, everything else on earth must be suhordinated, and whatsoever tends to injure, or oppress, or demoralize him, he holds to be not only injustice to him, but also, and far worse, a wounding of God where his heart is most tender and his sympathies are most acute ; it is, in fact, an undervaluing of that which God accounted worth the blood of His incarnate Son. Hence his deep-rooted abhorrence of slavery springs not more from his love to man than from his reverence for God, and to this source also must be traced that intense public spirit which he manifests, and which leads him to take part in all the important movements of his country and of his times. There must, indeed, to one of his temperament, be much that is alluring in the mere excitement which is connected with such struggles for justice, and truth, and righteousness as those in which he has engaged, but he has entered into them mainly because he felt that to refuse to do so would be to stand by and see dishonored that human nature which God's Son assumed, and which he came at once to dignify and redeem. His benevolence thus has sprung like the fabled flower of old from blood, and its root is at the Cross, for he reasons thus — if man was worth the blood of Christ, then he is immensely more valuable than any earthly thing, and every custom, law, or institution that degrades him thrusts an- other spear into the side of Jesus. These two principles, to wit, the power and life of religion, and the importance of man, run through all his discourses, and give a form and color to everything he does. They mark his ministry as a whole, and distinguish it from other men's, but in his assertion and treatment of them, many peculiarities appear which demand a passing notice. Foremost among these we place his originality. He has left almost entirely the beaten track of preachers, and pursues a pathway of his own. In the study of the word of God BEECHER'S ORIGINALITY. 421 he discards, someM'hat unceremoniously, the help of critics and commentators ; he has, in fact, no sympathy with exegesis, and very probably no great ability to engage in it. We do not think he troubles himself much about the original, or seeks often to amend the authorized version of King James. He complains, as we think somewhat unjustly, that commentators have "he- trashed" the Bible, and that "coming to it through comment- aries is much like looking at a landscape through garret windows, over which generations of unmolested spiders have spun their webs." Such an assertion, it must be confessed, is too sweeping and indiscriminate, yet the feeling from which it has sprung has contributed freshness and originality to his discourses. He never reads commentaries, and when one comes unexpectedly across his path, he says to it as Diogenes to Alexander, " Stand out of my light ;" hence if he says anything at all upon a passage it is sure to be his own. This may be very safe for him, with his exuberant abundance of material gathered from observation and experience, but we may warn all young preachers from attempting to imitate it, for, in ordinary circumstances, such a course would result in poverty rather than originality. It is not every man who can bend the bow of Ulysses ; and for common individuals to neglect the labors of our sacred critics would be great presumption and certain de- struction. We welcome Mr. Beecher's freshness in this respect, even though we disapprove of that which in a good degree has contributed to produce it ; but we have no patience with those who sneer at criticism and the study of commentaries, while yet they have nothing of their own to give instead. Mr. Beecher's own individuality is his richest commentary ; and the coin which issues from his mint is stamped with his own image and superscrip- tion. The truth comes to his hearers through himself, that is, through the medium of his voice, but shaded and stamped by his own heart-history and experience ; and if we have not rigid expo- sition, we have what perhaps is better, the self-revelation of a 432 HENRY WARD BEECHER. gifted and remarkable man. The same peculiarity marks his treatment of men which distinguishes his study of the Scriptures, and he addresses himself to the idiosyncrasies of his hearers. He believes that every man's soul is open at one door to the truth, and he makes it his business to find that out, and enter in thereby. What is usually called ** gospel-hardened " he believes to be practically, in most cases, only word-hardened, and as a conse- quence he sets himself to devise modes of expression, and to pre- sent phases of the truth to which men have not become accus- tomed. He excels, too, in the delineation of character. His life-pictures are most remarkable ; to use a somewhat hackneyed bat expressive quotation, ''he holds the mirror up to nature," and lets his hearers see themselves. His sermons thus are not mere firings into the air, like the " feu de joie " of a gala-day ; he is too good a marksman to be content with " drawing a bow at a venture," but he always contrives to have an aim, and takes care to hit in the white. Those who know him best say that he studies his sermons in the shops and stores, in the streets and in the ferry-boats ; and we believe it, for they are like the productions of a man who has gone through the city with his eyes open. They seem to have been struck out of him, if we may use such an expression, by the sights he sees and the sounds he hears in the midst of that whirling tide of human life that " bubbles, and seethes, and hisses, and roars" around him, and his purpose by them is to descend into its depths, and bring up thence the souls of struggling men, to him more precious far than the silver cup or glittering pearl in the diver's eye. ******* This almost unrivalled power of illustration is greatly aided by his ardent love of nature, which amounts with him almost to a passion. We know few men whose communings with the exter- nal world approach so nearly to those described by Wordsworth, when he speaks of one desiring to be absorbed into the scene, and MR. BEECHER'S LOVE OF NATURE. 423 to become '' a presence or a motion." Every tree, and flower, and rock, and stream has a language and a greeting for him, and be looks upon them all as friends. The notes of birds, the sounds of ocean, the sighing of the forest, and the roar of the waterfall, are all familiar to him, and each has in his ear a spiritual meaning of its own. Hence, no " clerical furlough " can be better enjoyed than his annual holiday, and none better improved. This appears in his " Star Papers," and also to a large extent in these " Life Thoughts." He is indeed a perfect child of nature's own, and when he withdraws from the city to the seclusion of the country, his delight is unbounded. It is thus he has succeeded so well in preserving the freshness and juvenility of his mind, for the expe- riences and feelings of his boyhood come again as he pursues his boyhood's sports. At such times his soul is at spring, tide, and all remaining traces of a lower level are swept up with it. In this way, he has secured what Coleridge calls " the moral accompani- ment and actuating power of genius," namely, " the carrying of the freshness and feelings of childhood into the powers of man- hood." But we must pass on to speak of Mr. Beecher's humor, without some mention of which any sketch of him would be signally incom- plete. This power is possessed by him in large measure, and like everything else about him, it is perfectly natural. He never goes out of his way to say a funny thing, nor does he ever say it merely for fun's sake, for it is with him a power more telling than the artillery of logic. We grant, indeed, that ridicule is not always a right test of truth, and we are disposed to admit that, in ordinary circumstances, the pulpit is not the place for the display of humor ; yet there are some arguments which can only be met by a reductio ad absurdum, and it does strike us as somewhat strange that the preachers who, like Rowland Hill, Berridge, Spurgeon, and many others have given loose rein to their wit, have been among the most eminently successful in their ministry. Whether 26 424 HENRY WARD BEECHER. this may be in consequence of their wit or in spite of it we are not prepared to say — we simply indicate the fact ; but we fear- lessly express our conviction, that a witty something, even in the pulpit, is by no means so sinful as a witless nothing, however solemn it may sound. Mr. Beecher's humor is always expressive, but it sometimes borders on the coarse, and in this, perhaps, more than in anything else, one feels disposed to question the fineness of his taste ; but, then, much allowance must be made for a man of his natural temperament and rollicking disposition. He says many of these things, we believe, before he is aware that anything out of place has escaped him, and in justice to his reputation it must be mentioned that many of his most grotesque and humor- ous expressions have occurred in connection with the public inti- mations he makes, and not at all in the body of his sermons. It is his custom to make such announcements before he gives out his text, and sometimes he will talk for half an hour on the topics which come thus incidentally before him, in a strain of bold and caustic criticism, which must often try severely the gravity of his audience. The great redeeming feature of his wit is the sturdy common-sense that constantly pervades it ; yet it must be con- fessed that the very sharpness of his " hits " tends, however para- doxical it may seem, to blunt the effect which they produce, and may not unfrequently take away from the power of appeals which otherwise would be absolutely irresistible. When, however, his humor is under the restraint of his pen, it is everything that can be desired, and the fine taste which in the heat of extempore utterance is for the time dethroned assumes its wonted sway. The -articles on Church Music, Organ-playing, and others of a similar strain, in the " Summer of the Soul," are exceedingly amusing, and most telling because most true ; but it is in personal controversy that the full force of this faculty comes out. It is Mr. Beecher's sting, and it is always ready in self-defence. Woe to the individual who becomes its victim ; it is bad enough to be MANLY INDEPENDENCE. 427 anniliilated, but to have it done so that men lau/«n of salvation. I have not talked about the atonement. I have not undertaken to sound ab- stract doctrines in your ears. I have done better than that ; and I call God to witness that it is better. I have preached a living Jesus, as a Brother, a Friend, a Saviour, an everlasting God." / The sermon entitled " Sin against the Holy Ghost" is one of ^ the most powerful and instructive doctrinal discourses upon that / solemn and mysterious theme that we have read ; and few sermons I that have ever been written have less of the husk of dogma and I more of the sweet fruit of spiritual doctrine in them, than his dis- course on " The Comforting God." But it is not as a doctrinal, it is as a moral preacher that he excels. As a moral pathologist he is wonderfully subtle in his perception of purpose and motive, understanding the bad tenden- cies as well as the nobler instincts of the human heart, following out a moral truth that another preacher would give in some dry, formalistic husk of statement into its living issues, of character, enlarging, developing, showing how it works in real life, in the family, the street, the church, tracking meanness to its hiding- places, unearthing concealed selfishness, rousing the indolent and sensual, encouraging the meek heart, helping the doubtful, seeing good where others would see only evil, and striving to build up a true manhood in the erring, imperfect, and lost. He thinks that Christianity has established a new social standard, and that men are not to be judged by their rank, wealth, or accidental circum- stances, but by their moral worth. He has practical faith in human brotherhood. It is time that we should say a word upon the rhetorical charac- teristics of Mr. Beecher's discourses. While Mr. Beecher's thoughts are not always marked by originality, and there are evi- dent signs that he seizes upon the living thoughts of the age, the best ideas in current literature, the fresh fruits of the advanced OLD TRUTHS IN NEW FORMS. 443 science and thinking of the best minds — that he is the expression rather than the original source of thought — yet his forms of thought and expression are only and inimitably his own. We can recall at this moment but a single quotation from a foreign source^ and that from Lord Bacon, in any of his discourses. With such an exhaustless fecundity of invention he has indeed no need to quote from others. Especially in his illustrations, in which lies one great element of his popularity, he employs every- thing that his hand can lay itself upon, from the last truth of sci- ence to the most insignificant fact or object in nature. One can almost seem to trace the natural genesis of his illustrations in any given sermon. Old truths are brought out in new and vivid lights. Abstract truth grows picturesque and concrete. It beats with the life- blood of the present. There is found to be instruction in ever}'- thing, good in everything. The elements of common-sense, of reason, of nature, of a large humanity, are in such preaching. When he says of a child that as soon as he knows how to love father and mother, and to say " dear father," and " dear mother," then he knows how to love and worship God — people say " that is true," and they think they have thought this them- selves before Mr. Bcechcr thought it, notwithstanding that they have acquired a new idea. He thus makes the people a part with himself ; he takes them into his confidence ; he strikes into the real current of their thinking ; he speaks as if speaking out of their thought. There is a strong propulsion given to his words by the combined unconscious consent of many minds who, as it were, listen approvingly as if to their own ideas. He has indeed found the great secret of popular power such as John the Baptist had, such as St. Bernard had, such as Luther had. He is a " king of men" in moral and spiritual things. He takes hold of all classes. Old men read his sermons when they can read noth- ing else out of the Bible. In the log-house of the pioneer the 444 HENRY WARD BEECHER. " Plymouth pulpit " is preacliing. Young men in the universities go to his discourses as to fresh springs, and many a young man who has lost interest in the old doctrines has been brought back to the life and substance of truth by perhaps reading in the news- papers the reports of Mr. Beecher's sermons. He is encouraging to those in doubt. He is a hope-bringer. He believes in man. He helps man. He is sympathetic to every kind of mind. He does not croak or scold. He is not solemn and stately, though he is in earnest, and sometimes terribly so. How impressive the conclusion of the discourse on " Preparation for X>eath" ! Few preachers have pursued this awful theme with a tread of more prophetic majesty and power, and }et with more of the sweetness and light of Christian truth. But no one can trifle with such preaching as that. The most careless and profligate youth would be arrested by it as by the strong hand of an elder brother who knows the world and the human heart, who speaks not with a weak sentimentality, but with the authoiity of love, of righteous- ness, and of communion with God. The influence of ^Ir. Beechcr as a preacher to young men who swarm to the metropolis by myriads, and who crowd the galleries of his church Sunday after Sunday with eager and attentive throngs, is of incalculable good. They cannot hear his shrewd and plain-spoken counsel, sent home to the heart by all that rouses and attracts manhood, and go away and plunge into vice. It is impossible. The impression must wear off, the moral sense must grow dull, the nerve of manly self- denial must be relaxed, before the youth can turn again to low pleasures with any zest. Mr. Beecher, doubtless, himself might select a fresher illustration, but we would liken him to a moral lighthouse standing on a dangerous reef, dashed by the waves that roar around it, and sending its Avarning and encouraging beams far over the wild waters ; and who knows how many a bark, half- wrecked and driving on to destruction, has been saved by its light ? Such preaching is better than the most dignified disquisitions on THE PRACTICAL ELEMENT. 445 scientific theology, arranged according to the approved models and methods of systematic discourse, cold, intellectual, shining like stars in the wintry night, millions of miles distant in the firma- ment of heaven. Not that doctrinal preaching does not have its valuable oflSce and place ; there must be the stars in heaven as well as the fires on earth for our guidance and light. And Mr. Beecher does not, it seems to us, sufficiently prize the need of a clearly-defined theological philosophy — a consistent system of truth — which prevents incongruous and rash statements, and which appeals to the reason. The practical element, which is so noble a one, is indescribably aided by being grounded upon the speculative element, and he who preaches from a well-wrought philosophy of faith will bring to bear more of solid weight upon any one point than the preacher can who is no theologian ; and, above all, he will not be obliged to construct a new philosophy every time he preaches. Such preaching has in it the prime qualities of instruc- tion, authority, strength, and is really conservative of the evangel- ical element, which must have a dogmatic form as a covering to preserve the tender life-seed of divine truth. The preacher who neglects or despises the study of theology is like the scientist at the present day who should attempt to investigate and teach the phenomena of the natural world by the instrumentality of his own crude, brief, and incomplete theory, knowing nothing of the theories upon which science has progressively advanced step by step toward the broader and clearer, and, at the same time, more intimate knowledge of physical truth. And men should have • given them by the preacher of the New Testament, in clear state- ments, the vital truths of the Gospel — not the formal plan of salva- tion it may be — but, at least, in what that salvation consists, and how it is attained. They should know Christ's real work, his true efficiency in men's spiritual redemption. They should be made to understand the way of eternal life, the mediation of the Son of God, and this should be definitely communicated, and not be lost sight of in generalities, however noble and eloquent. 446 HENRY WARD BEECHER. Mr, Beecher is an epoch-making man. We hold him to be the best exponent of that new style of preaching, providentially adapted to meet the wants and the new spirit of this age, and to reach the great masses of the people, fast falling away from the old forma] and unsympathetic methods of teaching. He will have exerted more of the moulding influence upon the style of preaching and modes of popular religious thought in his age than any other man. Far less scholarly and philosophically profound than Robertson, though with much of his spiritual earnestness and contempt of mere orthodox cant without the truth's reality, less solid in argument than Binney, less original in thought than .Bushnell, less learned as a theologian and exegete than hundreds of preach- ers in England and America, less brilliant than the great French preachers, dead and living, none of them may compare witb him in popular power, in his sway over tbe minds and hearts of living men. This is not only because of his powerful genius, but because of his true comprehension of the age and of the American mind, because of his large-souled human sympathy, because he preaches out of himself and his own intensely-felt and heart-wrought doc- trine instead of out of a mere doctrinal system, and, above all, be- cause he is thoroughly imbued with the spirit of the Gospel of Christ, and speaks, as it were, from the radiant centre of its divine heart of love and power. What Unitarian preacher or what radical reformer, even the greatest, can aspire to a tithe of his power in this country, or ever will ? The people are with him. They always hear him gladly. They throng after him in great multitudes that would fain be fed — might we dare to reverently hint the shadow of the shade of such a resemblance — fed in the wilderness of this barren world of selfish living with the bread of life ! It is because they believe that he dispenses the true Word of Christ, the nourishing, multiplying, divine word of life. MR. BEECHER A SOCIAL FORCE. 447 By REV. A. McELROY WYLIE, NEWTOWN, PA. (3-om Scribner's Monthly, October, 1872.) MR. BEECHER AS A SOCIAL FORCE. The forces which operate in the development and direction of human society are generally found to be abstract and aggregated powers, but occasionally a single man becomes a distinct social force acting upon an entire nation, or even upon the world itself. Such a force is Mr. Beecher. Men of all parties, and of the most divergent creeds, freely recognize him as an element of power in the nineteenth century. There are few residents of New York, or visitors to the great Metropolis, who are not more or less familiar with that wide, spacious, and intensely plain church structure which stands in Orange Street, Brooklyn, about eight minutes' walk from the Fulton Ferry. The building itself is admirably suited to the character of the occupant of its pulpit. It is capacious, light, thoroughly vs'ell ventilated, cheerful — having no sympathy with a " dim religious light," and while it has very little, indeed, to amuse the eye, or to challenge sensuous admiration, there is an air about it which addresses itself to the higher nature of man. If you are about to hear Mr. Beecher for the first time, it is more than probable that you go with some degree of prejudice, and with a disposition to apologize to yourself or to some one else for this indulgence, so doubtful in its propriety. And perhaps, too, these feelings will not be overcome after having once pressed your way through that crowd, but there will always be left the conviction that you ought to hear him again, and do him the justice of letting him speak for himself against your prejudices and those of the world. But when you have heard Mr. Beecher several times you will begin to recognize the fact that the occupant of Plymouth Pulpit 44:8 HENRY WARD BEECHER. is a distinct social force, or, we slioiild say, an embodied combi- nation of social forces. You will conclude that he possesses an organization wonderful for its complexity, and yet still more for its harmony of parts, and you will be led to ask : What are his peculiarities ? What are the secrets of his power and influence ? One who has enjoyed his acquaintance and often felt his power, would probably begin by speaking of the great breadth and ful- ness of the man. Mr. Beecher, to-day, is probably one of the roundest men living. He presents some side to every human being he approaches. More than this, he draws men toward him by the magnetism which seem to pervade all his powers. Every faculty seems to evolve an influence, and the mighty current composed of these concurring influences makes the man a niiignet, the force of which is such as to draw great masses of his fellow- beings toward his way of viewing the great problems of life and human destiny. His sympathies are as broad as his perceptions, and to use his own words, addressed to the writer in conversation, " All the roads in creation meet at my door, and I am like a cow owned and milked by a half-dozen families." In this particular he is a " debtor to all men," and, accord- ingly, all feel that they can come and put in a claim for the receipt of some benefit. All denominations can claim him, for he is broad enough in his sympathies and comprehensive enough in his sweep of the truth to afford a support for all. The Baptist may claim him, because, in his view, " the Congregationalist is a dry Baptist, and the Baptist is a wet Congregationalist." The Methodist may claim him because of the ardor and freedom of his speech ; his love of revivals ; his respect for the responsible agency of man. The Presbyterian may claim him, because of his education and his early church connection ; and because after a rigid examination by " good old Father Hughes of Ohio," he was pronounced so thoroughly ortho- dox that he " leaned a little t'other way." The Quaker, too. EMBRACING ALL SECTS. 449 may claim him, because of his high regard for the intuitions of the moral sense, and his standing declaration of independence from all bondage to outward ordinances, and slavish submission to the man- imposed bandages and badges of ecclesiasticism. The Low Church Episcopalian can claim him because of his intense love of the beautiful, and his admiration of order and symmetry. And even the High Church and the Catholic can find something in him for his touch of antiquarianism, and his open and avowed confession that between the world on the one side, and the Church in its comprehensive sense, embracing all forms and sects, on the other, there is enough of truth, enough of Christ in every denomination to save a man ; and one need not abjure his own sect in order to be saved, if he will but make the most of the Light and Truth which are conveyed to him in the channels nearest to his own hand. The best proof of the comprehensiveness of the man is found in the character of that vast congregation which twice every Sunday faces him as he stands on the Plymouth platform. Behind the neat little desk, made of olive-wood from Jerusa- lem, which bears the name of that ancient city carved in Hebrew characters, there is a focal centre in which are collected all the sympathies of human nature ; and from which radiate lines of communication that bear messages of peace and good- will to every name, age, class, and condition known to humanity. In connection with the mind-breadth and heart-breadth of Mr. Beecher, he is most happy in possessing that combination which the great Roman poet pronounced the necessary conditions of a perfect organization — the " mens sa7ia in corpore sano.''^ A bad digestion does not contribute to great clearness of thought, nor does the bile of a jaundiced constitution bring out the affectionate qualities of a man. Now Mr. Beecher stands before the world as a living demonstration of the advantage of a conscientious respect paid to the laws of the body, and the condi- tions which secure great strength and the continuance of ffood 450 HENRY WARD BEECHER. bealtli. That square, massive, compact form is thrilled in every member with the clear, rushing currents of Nature's best arterial blood, and is electrified by Nature's strongest nervous fluids. Not only is such a body no hindrance to the exercises of the soul, but it is the most competent instrument for the expression of all the thoughts and emotions of the higher nature. Mr. Beecher's intuitive faculty is another important element of his power. Other men have rapid and accurate intuitions, but they are either limited and partial, or they are not rendered effective upon other minds, because they are not supported and illustrated by the operations of reason and imagination. But Mr. Beecher, with his remarkable intuitions in respect to men, as well as in regard to truth, duty, and all that is necessary and becoming to times and places, can invariably summon his reason and powers of illustration (more especially the latter) to set forth his intuitions and to elaborate his conclusions„ Many men of genius fail as teachers because their splendid intuitions are not coupled with those powers which are necessary to make them plain to the average minds around them. One of the most gifted mathematicians of this country endeavored, for a few years, to fill a professorship in a univer- sity, but did not prove a successful teacher ; and the mortifica- tion experienced by his sensitive mind was unendurable. His genius strode along with the gait of a giant, while the capacities of the pupils toiled and sweated by his side, like infant toddlers a fifth chap- ter of Romans, and is again a falsifier of that chapter. No an- swer has ever been made to Dr. Edward Beecher's arguments, in the " Conflict of Ages," demonstrating that the doctrine of the fall of man in Adam had no foothold in Paul's writings. 7. Finally, the mediaeval representation of hell and the pimish- ment of the wicked is a spiritual barbarism worthy of having been invented in just such a place, and by just such demons as have been invented for it. That there will be pain and penalty in another world for those who have perverted their natures in this world I fully believe. But those gross representations of the Roman mind, especially those exquisite and infernal descriptions 484 HENRY WARD BEECHER. of the material and sensuous torments of the lost, rolling in waves of fire, writhing in the folds of serpents, gnawed by demons, pierced by fiery forks, clawed, dragged, tossed, roasted by an infinity of disgusting devils in an eternity of torments, increasing with every age, the capacity to suffer increasing likewise, till the whole infinite round of imaginable space is filled with the smoke and shrieks of their torments. Such a dogma is an insult to rea- son, to the moral sense of mankind, and if it shall be ascribed to God, it is a blasphemy that would justify the annihilation of its propagators. Yet this has been represented in art, as in Michael Angelo's " Last Judgment," and yet more abominably and inex- cusably by Cornelius in our own day, whose " Judgment " is coarser, cruder, and wickeder, because he lived in an age of light and better knowledge of God. These hideous and remorseless barbarisms are not dead. I have two books in i.iv possession, of recent composition, authorized by Catholic prelates, in which these sensuous and sensual ideas of future punishment are drawn out with an inconceivable and infernal detail, which cannot but amaze a sober and rational man by the filthy fertility of a rabid imagination. Compared to the solemn simplicity of Christ's warnings of future doom they are as a thousand-fold midnight compared with the rising of the all-revealing sun. I have thus fulfilled as far as I think necessary the request of the association to speak on spiritual barbarism. WHAT HE DOES BELIEVE. I now turn to other matters. The subject assigned me gave me oppoitunity to state my views negatively. In view of the step which I am about to take I desire to give affirmatively what I do believe and teach ; and what I have taught all through my ministry — lasting now more than forty-five years. I am working on the same lines and in the same direction, with only such difference as comes from larger experience and more knowledge. That my teaching has been widely misunderstood, that many who do not attend my ministrations are honestly perplexed, and that there has been blown about a world of misrepresentation, some saying thati believed innothing, was an infidel, a Unitarian, a Materialist, a man without logic, inconsistent, sometimes teaching one thing and at others its opposite, you all know as well as I do. THEOLOGICAL. 485 A word may be permitted as to the sources of this misrepre- sentation. I have nothing to hide. I never set myself up as a systematic theologian. I have for a long time believed that a time would come when theology would stand high among the sciences, but that as yet the knowledge did not exist which is necessary to build it upon ; that much light was to be revealed from science as to the divine method of creation ; that, above all, that terra in- cognita, the human mind, must be explored, not alone for its own relations to theology, but for the far more important reason, that only through the knowledge of mind as it is revealed to us among men. can we find the elements necessary for a right conception of divine attributes and dispositions. HIS MODE OF PREACHING. But even if I had that equipment which it has been widely denied that I have, if I had the scholarship and that logic which is so much praised and so little employed by better men than I am, I should still not have set myself up as the architect of abstract ideas, the builder of philosophic systems. My aim has been to inspire men to a higher and nobler Christian life. I have been a fisher of men. For this end I have employed much that belongs to reigning theology ; I have also rejected much. I never set up as a representative of orthodoxy ; I never set up as a representa- tive of Congregationalism. I am not an authority anywhere — never wanted to be, never dreamed of being. But I have had working lines, based on my own belief, and 1 have never hidden them ; and though I have never formulated them so as to make out a " Beecher system" of theology, yet I think it meet and right, for my sake and yours, that I should state them now and subject myself to any questions that any of my brethren choose to propound to me in regard to them. And let me say, first, that this wide cloudiness and misconception is partly my fault and partly not. I am what I am by the grace of God, thi'ough my father and mother. I have my own peculiar temperament ; I have my own method of preaching, and my method and temperament necessitate errors. I am not worthy to be related in the hundred thousandth degree to those more happy men who never make a mistake in the pulpit. I make a great many. I am impetuous. I am intense at times on subjects that deeply move me. I feel as 486 HENRY WARD BEECHER. thougli all the ocean were not strong enough to be the power "be- hind my words, nor all the thunders that were in the heavens, and it is of necessity that such a nature as that should give such intensity at times to parts of doctrine as to exaggerate them when you come to bring them into connection with a more rounded out and balanced view, I know it — I know it as well as you do. I would not do it if I could help it ; but there are times when it is not I that is talking, when I am caught up and carrried away so that I know not whether I am in the body or out of the body, when I think things in the pulpit that I never could think in the study, and when I have feelings that are so far different from any that belong to the lower or normal condition that I neither can regulate them nor understand them. I see things and I hear sounds, and seem, if not in the seventh heaven, yet in a condition that leads me to understand what Paul said — that he heard things which it was not possible for a man to utter. I am acting imder such a temperament as that. I have got to use it, or not preach at all. I know very well I do not give crystalline views nor thor- oughly guarded views — there is often an error on this side and an error on that ; and I cannot stop to correct them. A man might run around like a kitten after its tail, all his life, if he were going around explaining all his expressions and all the things he had written. Let them go. They will correct themselves. The average and general influence of a man's teaching will be more mighty than any single misconception, or misapprehension through misconception. THE REPORTERS. Then, too, yon must bear in mind that great as is the useful- ness— and I bear willing testimony to the great usefulness of the ubiquitous body of reporters — they are not all apostolic in theol- ogy, they are not Platos in philosophy, they are not all the most eminent disciples of the school of metaphysics, and they are set to do that which not one man of genius even in ten thousand can do — the rarest thing in the world — to put a discourse of one whole hour into a reading space of five minutes. To do that is one of the supremest works of intellectual genius. But they are sent to the churches as well as to other meetings, and they are expected to make a report that folks will read, and they catch here and they THEOLOGICAL. 487 catch there shining passages, grotesque ones, or some that raise a little laughter. They go over to the oflBce and the night editor says : " I want a quarter of a column of Beecher. " " Well, but I have got a whole column." " Cut it out, cut it out !" and they cut it here and they cut it there, and keep in things that they think will attract attention, and that is the report of my sermon. Well, I do not blame them ; but I tell you what I do blame. I blame the want of honor in ministers and editors who live within an hour's walk or an hour's postage of my house, and who could write to me and say : " I see in the papers this morning such and such things are reported as having been said by you. I wish to know whether that is a correct representation of your views." Not they ! They sit down and write a long critique and send it to the Congregationalist or the Advance or somewhere else, based on my views. If it is worth my while, and I turn around and say, *' I was misrepresented ; I didn't say so," they will say, " Oh, he is backing down as usual." So then, for more than twenty- five years, there is not a man on the globe that has been reported so much as I have been in my private meetings, in my street con- versations, on the platforms of pubhc meetings, and so steadily in the pulpit, a great many times admirably, many times less admi- rably, and sometimes abominably. This has been going on week after week and year after year. Do you suppose I could follow up all such things and rectify them ? I never revise my own ser- mons. I prepare them as best I may. I preach them, and you might just as well look for the sparks that were in your fire yester- day as to look to me for the contents of my last sermon when once it has gone forth. If I were to attempt to revise it the only thing it would do would be to set me going on a new one. I never could correct them. They go without correction in the public press, and have been for twenty-five years laid before the public in fragments in a hundred papers — all my thoughts and my feelings. And yet, at this day, men say I am holding back the truth and do not let folks know what I mean. If there ever was any man who has been especially frank to state everything he was prepared to say, it is I. But a man who runs to speech before his thoughts and beliefs are settled is a fool. Every man has be- liefs rising as nebulous stars rise ; and not until they have ascend- ed far above the vapors of the earth and are high advanced, and 488 HENRY WARD BEEL'HER. he has had an opportunity to study them, should he represent them to others. I have held a great many things in abeyance until they were rightly settled in my mind. Then I preached them ; and people say : " Oh ! he has got a great deal behind ; he has another idea yet ; and he doesn't preach it." Thank God, no ; I'm not quite such a fool. HIS PHILOSOPHY. Then I have an underlying, mental philosophy which difftis from that generally held by my brethren and which was held by those that framed what might be called modern aspects of theol- ogy ; and I think I am preaching consistently along the lines of my mental and scientific philosophy. I hear men say, "Why, the man says one thing at one time and another thing at another time ; there's no sort of logical connection about him." I am not ambitious to wear a crown of thorns of logic ; but one thing I say, that a man may be inconsistent when judged by a philoso- phy that he does not hold and you do, and perfectly consistent with himself when judged by his owi system of philosophy. This leads me to say that early in my college life, under the influence of Dr. Spurzhcim, I embraced the system of phrenology. It was nascent, and it has been nascent ever since. Biology, physiology are throwing greater and greater light on the subject of the human mind every year. I never undertook to preach by any system of philosophy based on phrenology, but the whole nomenclature of mental phenomena was so vague it had no individuality in it, no power of individualizing ; it generalizes all the way through ; while phrenology brought into view as distinct qualities, com- bativeness, self-esteem, pride, the love of approbation, the love of praise, conscience, hope, reason, that is, casual and analogical rea- son. It gave definite names, so that one could read a man ; just as you can by taking type spell out a word, so by taking the different faculties you get to know the man. This working appa ratus of phrenology I embraced. I analyzed essays by it. 1 could say to myself what sprang from that organ, here conscience is at work, here self-esteem, and so on. I do not undertake to say it was the most accurate, but I do say it gave definiteness, it gave a man an insight into his fellow-man. It told him just where to strike and just what to strike with, and it was altogether a more THEOLOGICAL. 489 practical, personal, and useable system than any of the metaphysi- cal systems that have been in vogue. Then, beside that, I early studied science with enthusiasm. I was a pupil of Professor Hitchcock at Amheist College. I was the first two years a dull scholar because I was studying literature, history, and belles lettres, but when I came to my junior and senior years I bent myself to mental philosophy and scientific studies, and I have kept along the line of the front of scientific investigation ever since, and these two elements have underlaid and been very potent to form my theological statements. When, therefore, I am judged I ask to be judged by my philosophy, and not by a very different one which my critic may hold. The result has been unfavorable in many cases. That is to say, unfavorable to my reputation in the com- munity. It set good men a great many times apart by misunder- standing. It has caused grief to some men that were closely con- nected with me. I know I have their confidence as to my personal piety and as to my general conduct, but they fear lam straying so far from the good old sound way thart it is a matter of mourning. I do not think so, I think I am coming nearer and nearer to the good old sound way. I think my views conform to Scripture a great deal more than those in which I was originally educated. In regard to scientific investigation, I see the day coming when one of the most powerful arguments for the inspiration of the Bible will be that it laid itself light along on the assumption of truths that were unknown at the time they were written and by the person by whom they were written. It is a remedial book. It lays itself along the line of human development and human want in a manner that no man can account for except by superintending Providence. My scientific and philosophical views lead me to a deeper and a deeper faith in the word of God ; but I shall speak of that in detail. HIS PERSONAL EXPERIENCE. Now, it may be permitted to me, in view of withdrawing from the association — as I shall — to tnak^ a statement of my views some- what in extenso. I do it as a brother to brethren. In the first place, let me say that my early religious experience has colored all my life. I was sympathetic by nature, I was loving, I was mercurial, I was versatile, I was imaginative. I was not a poet 490 HENRY WARD BEECHER. executively, but sympHthetically I was in Pinion with the whole universal life and beauty of God's world and with all human life. My earliest religious training was at home. My father's public teaching may be called alleviated Calvinism. Even under that the iron entered my soul. There were days and weeks in which the pall of death over the universe could not have made it darker to my eyes than those in which I thought, " If you are elected you will be saved, and if you are not elected you will be damned, and there is no hope for you." I wanted to be a Christian. I went about longing for God as a lamb bleating longs for its mother's udder, and I stood imprisoned behind those iron bars : " It is all decreed. It is all fixed. If jou are elected you will be saved anyhow^if you are not elected you will perish." AVhile in that state and growing constantly and warmly in sympathy with my father, in taking sides with orthodoxy that was in battle in Boston with Unitarianism, I learned of him all the theology that was cur- rent at that time. In the quarrels also between Andover and East Windsor and New Haven and Princeton — I was at home in all these distinctions. I got the doctrines just like a row of pins on a paper of pins. I knew them as a soldier knew his weapons. I could get them in battle array. I went from my college life im- mediately to the West and there I fell into another fuliginous Christian atmosphere when the old school and the new school Presbyterians were wrangling, and the church was split, and split on the rock of slavery, and my father was tried for believing that a man could obey the commandments of God, and Dr. Wilson was contending against him in church courts, that men had no ability, either moral or physical, to obey God, and the line of divis- ion ran all through the State, and there was that tremendous whirl of old school theology, old Calvinism and new Calvinism, and by the time I got away from the theological seminary I was so sick — ■ no tongue can tell how sick I was of the whole medley. How 1 despised and hated this abyss of whirling controversies that seemed to me to be filled with all manner of evil things, with everything indeed but Christ. And then on one memorable day, whose almost every cloud I remember, whose high sun and glowing firmament and waving trees are vivid yet, there rose before me as if an angel bad descended, a revelation of Christ as being God, be- cause He knew how to love a sinner ; not that He would love me THEOLOGICAL. 491 when I was true and perfect, but because I was so wicked that I should die if He did not give Himself to me, and so inconstant that I never should be steadfast, as if He were saying to me : " Because you are sinful I am yours. ' ' Before that thought of a God who sat in the centre and seat of power, that He might bring glory and restoration to everything that needed Him, I bowed down in my soul, and from that hour to this it has been my very life to love and to serve the all helping and pitiful God. HIS EARLY PREACHING. Well, that determined me to preach, for I had before about made up my mind I should go into some other profession. And when I began to preach it was said of me, "Why go to hear him? He's a smart young man, but he plays that one chord all the time. All he has got to say is about Christ." That was pretty much all I had when I went into the ministry. I went away from the city. I had the misfortune to be my father's son, and, therefore, every body was comparing me with Lyman Beecher. My first preach- ing was in a hall over the river in Kentucky, and there I preached several weeks. Then came a woman from Lawrcnceberg, saying there was a Presbyterian Church there with nineteen members, women, and one man. She called me to the pastorate of that church. She was its trustee and deacon and treasurer. I have good reason to believe in woman's rights. There I had a ministry of two years. I preached some theology, I had just come out of the seminary, and retained some portions of systematic theology, which I used when I had nothing else, and as a man chops straw and mixes it with Indian meal in order to distend the stomach of the ox that eats it, so I chopped a little of the regular orthodox theology, that I might sprinkle it with the meal of the Lord Jesus Christ. But my horizon grew larger and larger in that one idea of Christ. It seems to me that first I saw Christ as the Star of Bethlehem, but afterward He seemed to expand and I saw about a quarter of the horizon filled with His light, and through years it came around so that I saw about one-half in that light ; and it was not until after I had gone through two or three revivals of religion that, when I looked around, He was all and in all. And my whole ministry sprang out of that. I went in with this general guiding purpose in my mind : Whatever else I do not know, this 30 493 HENRY WARD BEECHER. I do knovv, that men are sinful ; whatever else I do not know, 1 know that men need to be born again ; whatever I do not know, I do believe that it is in the power of God to change the hearts of men ; and I gradually formed a theology by practice — by trying it on, and the things that really did God's work in the hearts of men I set down as good theology, and the things that did not, whether they were true or not, they were not true to me. In that way, from the practical standpoint, after I had thrown off in dis- gust all the old systems of theology, I felt my way back, until at last I came to a point in which 1 said to myself : " Why, all these theologies really agree in certain great aims and great facts, men agree as to the reality of sin, and yet differ as to its philosophy ; in the reality of conversion but not in the philosophy of it. Good men differ not so much in respecu to the great fundamental facts and doctrines — the great drift and end of things — as to the theory of them and their systematic value. So I came to have a catholic side toward other theologies, which has been misinterpreted into supposing that I hold one thing to be about as good as another, or that I had no system, and floated about here, there and every- where. FUNDAMENTAL DOCTRINES. Now, in order to make this a little more plain, to throw a little light on the operation of my mind, I came to think finally that there are three fundamental ideas of doctrine. That is to say, doctrine may be regarded as fundamental from three standpoints. First, from the standpoint of theology. Many things are funda- mental to a system of theology, necessary to complete the whole chain of thinking from the beginning clear around to the end. The most complete, interlinked, compact, and self-consistent the- ology in the world is the Calvinistic — the higher you go the bet- ter it is as a purely metaphysical and logical concatenation. Many doctrines are fundamental to this system which are by no means necessary to Christian life and character. A man may be a good Christian who accepts or who rejects many of the doctrines of Calvinism. Then, secondly, you may look at fundamental doc- trines from the standpoint of ecclesiastical organization. There are a great many things that are indispensable to the existence of a church that are not necessary to the piety of the individual THEOLOGICAL. 493 member of that church. You take the Roman system. Funda- mentalism there means not so much systematic theology' as it does the truth necessary to the maintenance and influence of the church as God's abode on earth ; and you might take or reject a great many theological points in that system provided you stuck to the church and held to it firmly. Now comes a question which I have always regarded as of spe- cial importance, viz. : Wliat doctrines are fundamental to the for- mation of Christian character and to its complete development ? There are many things that are necessary to a system of theology that are not necessary to the conviction or conversion of men. I have called those things fundamental which were necessary for the conviction of sin, for conversion from sin, for development of faith, for dominant love of the Lord Jesus Christ, and for the build- ing up of a Christlike character. That dispenses with a great many doctrines that are necessary for a theological system or for an ecclesiastical system. Now, let me go into details. A PERSONAL GOD. And, first, I believe in God, and never for a moment have faltered in believing, in a personal God, as distinguished from a Pantheistic God, whether it is the coarser Pantheism of material- ism, believing that the material universe is God, or from the more subtle view of Matthew Arnold, who holds that God is nothing but a tendency in the universe — a something that is not me that tends toward righteousness. Well, he can love such a God, but I cannot. I would rather chew thistledown all summer long than to work with any such idea as that. I mean personal, not as if He were like us, but personal in such a sense as that those that know personality in men cannot make any mistake in attempting to grasp and conceive of God. He is more than man in the operation of the intellect, larger m all the moral relations, infinitely deeper and sweeter in the affections. In all those elements, notwithstanding He is so much larger than man that no man by searching can find Him out to perfection, yet the humblest person can conceive that there is such a Being. They know in a general way what the Be- ing is, and that He is a personal Being, and accessible as other persons are accessible, to the thoughts, the feelings, the wants, the cares of men. So I have believed and so I do believe. Then 4^4 HENRY WARD BEECHER. as to the controversy as to the knowable and unknowable ; I be- lieve on both sides. It is not usual that I am on both sides of any question at the same time ; but I am here. I believe that there are elements that are distinctly knowable in quality but not in quantity, in nature but not in scope. I believe that when you say that God can do so and so, or cannot do so and so, you are all at sea. What God can do and what God cannot do in the im- mensity of His being lies beyond the grasp of human thought. The attributes are but alphabetic letters. We spell a few simpla sentences. But the greatness, the majesty, the scope, the variety that is in Him we cannot compute. It will break upon us when we shall see Him as He is, and not through the imperfection of human analogies and experiences. I thank God that there is so much that is unknowable. When Columbus discovered America he did know that he had discovered a continent, but he did not know its contents, what the mountain ranges were, nor what or where the rivers were, nor the lakes, nor the inhabitants. Yet he did know he had made the discovery of the continent. And I know God so that I walk with Him as with a companion ; I whis- per to Him, I believe that He imparts thoughts to me and feelings, and yet when you ask me : " Can you describe dim ? Can you make an inventory of His attributes ?" I cannot. I thank God He so transcends anything we know of Him that God is unknow- able. People say, " Some may believe tliis, but can you prove it ?" Suppose I were to have said in my youthful days to the woman of my choice, my honored wife, " I love you," and she handed me a slate and pencil and said, " Be kind enough to demonstrate that, will you ?" She would not have been my wife if she had. Are not the finest feelings that you know thuse that are unsusceptible of demonstration? Certainly by analysis, desciiption, language? Are not those things that make you not only- different from the animal, but from the men around about you, that lift you into a higher atmosphere, do they not transcend any evidence that the sense can give ? And is not that the instruction that runs through all of Paul's writings ? So I hold and so I have taught of God. Not seeable, not known by the senses, the full circuit of His being not discerned except by moral intuition, by the range of susceptibility, when the down shining of the Holy Ghost comes to me I know by an evi- THEOLOGICAL. 495 dence within myself that is unspeakably raore convincing to mc than eye or hand or ear can be, that there is a God and that He is my God ! THE TRINITY. I accept without analysis the tri-personality of God. I accept the Trinity ; perhaps because I was educated in it. No matter why, I accept it. Are there any difficulties in it ? I should like to know if there are any great questions of the structure of the uni- verse, of the nature of mind, that do not run you into difficulties when you go a little way in them. But I hold that while I can- not analyze and localize into distinct elements, as it were, the three Persons of the Trinity, I hold them— ths Father, the Son and the Holy Ghost. The theories, such as, for instance, in part are hinted mthe Nicene Creed and outspun with amazing ignorance of knowl- edge in the Athanasian Creed, I do not believe. The Athanasian Creed is gigantic spider web weaving. I leave it to those who want to get stuck on it, but the simple declaration that God exists in unity and yet in the tri-fold personality, I accept. A man says, *' Do you believe there can be three in one ?" Yes I do. It is not contrary either to reason or to the analogies in Nature. The first forms of life, the lowest, are found to be absolutely simple and unitary. Every stop of development in the succession of animal life is toward complexity— complexity of functions, of organs, of powers and faculties — and when we reach the higher animals the complexity of mental traits is discovered-^animal passions, then social instincts, affections, moral sentinients — until in civilized man we find a being composed not only of multitudes of parts, but of groups, so that unity is made up by whole families of facul- ties. I can conceive that in a higher range of being unity may be comprised of persons, as in the lower it is made up of groups of faculties. It is not proof of trinity in unity, but it dissipates the notion that three may not be one. I do not say it is so, but it runs right along and in the line of analogies of nature, and predis- poses one to accept the implication of the New Testament as to the mode of Divine existence. As to any attempt to divide the functions — the Father to His function, the Son to another depart- ment, and the Holy Ghost to yet another function, I leave it to those who are better informed than I am. 496 HENRY WARD BEECHER. FAITH IN CHRIST. But let me say first, that vvliile there are of course no doubts as to tlie existence of God the Father, in any Christian sect, there have been grave doubts as to tlie divinity of Christ, but not in my mind. I believe fully, enthusiastically, v^'ithout break, pause, or aberration, in the divmity of Christ. I believe that Christ is God manifest in the flesh. Is the whole of God in Christ ? Well, that is asking me. Can infinity be inclosed in the finite ? What I understand by His laying aside His glory is that Christ, when He came under the limitations of time and space and flesh was limited by them. I am limited. You are limited. If you go down into the , Five Points to talk with men, you la}' aside at home two thirds of that which is best in you. You cannot bring it before such persons. You are limited by the condition of their minds. In other words, it is quite possible that even God, though I know not how, should manifest Himself under limitations at times, and that the whole power and knowledge and glory of God should not appear during His earth life. During His life He made Himself a man, not being ashamed to be called a brother. He went through the identical experiences that men go through. He was born. He was a baby, with no more knowledge than a baby has ; a youth, with no more knowledge than a youth has. He grew in stature. He grew in knowledge. I believe that Christ Himself, at times, had the consciousness of His full being. There were days when it seemed as though the heavens opened and He saw the whole of Himself and felt His whole power. But the sub- stance of His being was divine, and He was God manifest in the flesh. That is my faith, and I never swerved from it. And I can go farther and say, I cannot pray to the Father except through Christ ; I pray to Christ. I must. The way the Spirit of God works with me makes it necessary that I should have something that I can clasp, and to me the Father is vague. I believe in a Father, but the definition of Him in my vision is not to me what the portraiture of Christ is. Though I say Father, I am thinking of Christ all the time. That is my feeling, that is my life, and so I have preached, so I have taught those that came from Unitarian instruction — never asking them to a technical argument or proof, but simply saying, " You say you can pray to the Father, but THEOLOGICAL. 497 oannct to Christ. You are praying to Christ ; you don't know it. That which you call Father is that which is interpreted in Christ. Since the Godhead has three doors of approach to our apprehen- sion, it makes no difference through which our souls enter." THE HOLY SPIRIT, Then I believe next in the Holy Ghost, or the Holy Spirit, as one of the persons of the Godhead. And in regard to that I believe that the influence, the Divine influence, the quickening, stimulat- ing influence of the mind of God proceeds from the Holy Ghost, and that it is uuiversHl, constant, imminent. The body of man receives all the stimulus it needs from the oiganized physical world — feeds itself, maintains itself ; the social affections receive all the stimulus and impulse they need from society, but whatever in man that reaches toward holiness — aspiration, love of truth, justice, purity — feeds upon the spiritual nature and is developed by the down-shining of the Holy Ghost. And as the sunlight is the father of every flower that blossoms — though no flower would blossom if it had not separate organized existence in the plant on which it shines — so " work out your own salvation with fear and trembling, for it is God that worketh in you," describes the work- ing of the Divine Spirit in producing right affections and good works in man. PROVIDENCE. I hold and I teach that there is a general and a special provi- dence of God which overrules human life by and through natural laws, but, also, I believe that there is an overruling and special providence of God in things pertaining to human life as well as to the life of the world by the direct action of His own will ; by such a use of laws in the first place upon us, such a use as may not be known to us, but is peifectly known to God, by such a use of natural laws as is wisely adapted to effect needed results. A great thinker can employ natural laws to create conditions of life that did not exist before, to change public sentiment, to repress indolence, to stimulate activity. Every man that is acting in the world is employing natural laws with cunning, with wisdom, with skill, by which he is enabled to change the whole course and cur- rent of things. God stands behind the whole system of natural 498 HENRY WARD BEECHER. laws and can produce special results in men whenever He pleases. Such a doctrine of the special influence of the Spirit of God makes prayer of benefit to man. I believe millions of prayers are not answered and that millions are — some directly, some indirectly. Man has the feeling and should have the feeling : " I have a right to carry myself and all that concerns me to God ; it is not in vain that I pray to Him." I believe in the efli^acy of prayer, partly by its moral reaction upon us, to be sure, but a great d^al more by direct answer from God. I believe, then, in Divine Provi- dence ; I believe in prayer, and out of the same view of God I believe in MIRACLES. I believe miracles are possible now ; they not only were possible but were real in tbe times gone by — especially the two great mira- cles that began and ended the Christian dispensation — the miracu- lous conception of Christ and His resurrection from the dead. When I give those up the two columns on which the house stands "will have to fall to the ground. Being of scientific tastes, believ- ing in evolution, believing in the whole scheme of natural laws, I say they are reconcilable with the true theory of miracles. I wrote in a book when I came to Brooklyn : "I foresee there is to be a period of great unbelief ; now I am determined so to preach as to lay a foundation, when the flood comes, on which men can build," and I have thus, as it were, been laboring for the Gentiles, not for the Jews, in the general drift of my ministry. BEGENERATION. Man is a being created in imperfection and seeking a full de- velopment. Second, I believe him to be sinful — universally man is sinful, but I do not believe he is totally depraved. I believe that to be a misleading phrase. Bat no man ever lived, and no man ever will live, that was only a man, that was not a sinner ; and he is a sinner, not simply by infirmity, though much of that which is called sin is but infirmity, but he is a sinner to such an extent that he needs to be transferred out of his natural state into a higher and spiritual state. He needs to be born again. If any man believes in the doctrine of the sinfulness of man I do, and 1 have evidence of it every day, and if ever a man believed in being THEOLOGICAL. 499 born again, I believe in that. The degree of sinfulness in men, I have always taught, is dependent on a variety of circumstances. Some persons are far less sinful than others. It is far easier for some to rise into the spiritual kingdom than for others. Heredity has a powerful influence. The circumstances that surround men by their influence lift some very high and leave others compara- tively low. God judges men according to their personal and their actual condition. [Here a member of the association asked if a man needed to be re- generated for anything beside his personal sin.] He needs to be regenerated to become a man. I hold that man is first an animal, and that then he is a social animal. He is not a full man and a religious being until he is lifted into that higher realm in which he walks with God. And every man needs to be lifted into that high estate, partly by parental instruction ; by the secondary or reflected light of Christianity upon the morals, cus- toms, and spirit of the age in which he lives ; some men are lifted nearer the threshold. There is not a man born that does not need to be born again, and it is a work which is as impossible to men as for a person to come suddenly to education, to knowledge, sim- ply by a volition. No man can ever lift himself up so. It is not within human power, but it is within the power of a man to put himself under instructors and grow up into education, and I hold man has not the power to regenerate himself. He is under the stimulating influence of the present and immanent Spirit of God which is striving with every man ; when he will open his mind to receive Divme influence, every man is helped, and the act of sur- render to God and entrance into the spiritual kingdom are the joint act of the man willing and wishing and the co-operative influence of the spirit of God enabling him. INSPIRATION OF THK BIBLE. As to the inspiration of the Bible, let me say that with a few exceptions I can accept the chapter in the Confession of Faith on that subject, which I think to be a very admirable compend. I will read it : " Although the light of nature and the works of creation and Providence do so far manifest the goodness, wisdom, and power 500 HENRY WARD BEECHER. of God as to leave men inexcusable, yet they are -not sufficient to give that knowledge of God and of His will, which is necessary unto salvation ; therefore it pleased the Lord, at sundry times and in divers manners, to reveal Himself and to declare that His will unto His church ; and afterward, for the better preserving and propagating of the truth, and for the more sure establishment and comfort of the church against the corruption of the flesh and the malice of Satan and of the world, to commit the same wholly unto writing ; which maketh the Holy Scripture to he most necessary ; those former ways of God's revealing His will unto His people being now ceased." That is my theory. The Bible is the record of the steps of God in revealing Himself and His will to man. The inspiration was originally upon the generation, upon the race ; and then what was gained step by step was gathered up, as this says, and put into writing, for the better preservation of it. " It pleased the Lord, at sundry times and in divers manners, to reveal Himself, and to declare that His will unto the church ; and afterward, for the better preserving and propagating of the truth, and for the more sure establishment and comfort of the church against the corruption of the flesh and the malice of Satan and of the world, to conamit the same wholly unto writing." I do not want any bet- ter definition of my view of inspiration — that is, inspiration of men, not inspiration of a book — and that the book is the record of that inspiration that has been taking place from gen- eration to generation. [Reading.] " The authority of the Holy Scripture, for which it ought to be believed and obeyed, dependeth not upon the testimony of any man or church, but wholly upon God (who is truth itself), the author thereof ; and therefore it is to be received, because it is the word of God. " I have no objections to make to that. [Reading.] " We may be moved and induced by the testimony of the church to a high and reverend esteem for the Holy Scripture ; and the heaven- liness of the matter, the efficacy of the doctrine, the majesty of the style, the consent of all the parts, the scope of the whole (which is to give all glory to God), the full discovery it makes of the only way of man's salvation, the many other incomparable excellences, and the entire perfection thereof, are arguments whereby it doth abundantly evidence itself to be the word of God ; yet, notvvith- THEOLOGICAL. 601 standing our full persuasion and assurance of the infallible truth and divine authority thereof, is from the inward work of the Holy- Spirit, bearing witness by and with the word, in our hearts." External arguments are good, that says, but the witness of God in your own soul is the best evidence, I believe that. No man can wrest the Bible from me. I know from the testimony of God in my moral sense. [Reading.] " The whole counsel of God con- cerning all things necessary for His own glory. " I do not believe that. Who knows what is necessary for God's glory ? " Man's salvation" — I believe that. The whole counsel of God concerning all things necessary for man's salvation, faith and life, *' is either expressly set down in Scripture or by good and necessary conse- quence may be deduced from Scripture ; unto which nothing at any time is to be added, whether by new revelations of the Spirit or traditions of men." Yes, I might believe that. I believe it with an addendum. " Nevertheless we acknowledge the inward illumination of the Spirit of God to be necessary for the saving understanding of such things as are revealed in the world." That settles that little question. It is the moral consciousness. It is the man as he is instructed by knowledge, and then inflamed or rendered sensitive by the spirit of God that sits in judgment upon the word of God. Talk about our not being allowed to come to the Bible with our reason. That is the only way we can go. Is a man to come with his ignorance, through a council or somebody else's thinking ? Must we not use our reason to know what the word of God is ? When a man says, " You must not dilute the word of God by any thinking of your own ; you must not trans- late the Bible or construct the doctrines of the Bible except by the Bible itself." Then I will turn and catechize that man say- ing, " Will you be kind enough to tell me from the Bible alone what a lion is ?" You cannot. *' Will you be kind enough to define from the Bible what a mountain is ?" You cannot. " Will you, out of the Bible, define a river, an eagle, a sparrow, a flower, a king, a mother, a child ?" You cannot do it. What do you do ? You go right to the thing itself outside of the Bible. When you see a flower, you know what the Bible means when it says a flower. In all things that are cognizable by man's senses, he finds what is the thing spoken of in the Bible by going to the thing itself, outside of the Bible. It is absurd to say that the 503 HENRY WARD BEECHER. Bible must be its own sole expounder. Now, that which is true in respect to miracles — in respect to the whole economy of human life — is it not also true in respect to the man himself and his own individual experience ? A man says : " You must not undertake to dictate to the word of God what conversion is." I should like to know how I am going to find it out except by seeing it ? I go to the thing itself. Then I understand what is meant by it. And so far from not going outside of the Bible to interpret it, no man can interpret it without a knowledge of what lies outside of it. That is the very medium through which any man comes to under- stand it. Dr. H. M. Storrs — You used the sentence just now, "We are not to substitute our reason for the Word of God?" Mr. Beecher — Yes, and in using it, I say you are not confined to the mere comparison of texts. You have a right to go out to things that lie within the reach of human knowledge, and study outward things spoken of, and then come back to the Bible with a better understanding of what the Bible teaches. Well, I shall not have time to say much more ; but, in the main, with such modi- fications as will be clearly understood now by what I have said, I accept the first chapter in the Confession of Faith of the Presby- terian Church as being a very wise and very full and very admir- able definition of my views of the Bible. ATONEMENT. [Mr. Beecher had spoken an hour and a half before reaching this topic. It became impracticable for the reporter to reduce it to writing both because he had become weary with the long session, and because the speaker was interrupted by a m.ultitude of questions from all parts of the house. Mr. Beecher has been obliged to write out his views for publication without regard to the reporter's copy.] The New Testament, instead of discussing the atonement — the word is but once used in the New Testament — confines itself to the setting forth of Christ, his nature, power, relations and com- mands. We hear nothing of a " plan," of an " arrangement," of a " scheme of salvation," of an " atonement," but everything of Christ's work. I am accustomed to say that Christ is in Him- self the Atonement, that He is set forth in His life, teaching, suffering, death, resurrection and heavenly glory, as empowered f THEOLOGICAL. 503 to forgive sin and to transform men into a new and nobler life who know sin and accept him in full and loving trust. He is set forth ;is one prepared and empowered to save men, to remit the penalty of past sins, and to save them from the dominion of sm. It is not necessary to salvation that men should know hoio Christ was prepared to be a Saviour. It is He Himself that is to be ac- cepted, and not the philosophy of His nature or work. I employ the term Christ for that which systematic writers call the Atone- ment. But Christ is not merely a historic name. It is a group of attributes, a group of qualities, a character, a divine nature, in full life and activity among men. When we accept Christ, we yield love and allegiance to that character, to those qualities, deeds and dispositions which make his name "to be above every name." The idea of faith is such an acceptance of Christ's heav- enly dispositions as shall reorganize our character and draw us into a likeness to Him. When it is said that there is none other name given under heaven whereby men can be saved, I understand it to be a declaration that man's exit from sinful life and entrance into a spiritual life, can only be through a new inspiration — a new birth — into these divine elements. What Christ was, man must become ; the way and the life He was. It is by the way of those qualities that every man must rise into a regenerated state. Christ is to the soul a living person full of grace, mercy and truth ; of love that surpasses all human experiences or ideals (it passes un- derstanding) a love that is patient, forgiving, self-sacrificing, sor- rowing and suffering not for its own but for others' sins and sin- ful tendencies. Christ is a living actor moving among men in purity, truth, justice and love, not for His own sake, not seeking His own glory, but seeking to open, both by His person, presence, actions, words and fidelity, the spiritual kingdom of God to men's understandings — in short, it is the moral nature of God manifest in the flesh — to " follow "' Him, to " learn of " Him. to become His " disciple " or pupil, to " put on the Lord Jesus Christ," to be " hid in Him," to have not our own natural rectitude, but " that rectitude or righteousness which is by faith in Him," to assume His " yoke and burden" — all these and a multitude of other terms clearly interpret the meaning of faith in Christ, or receiving Christ. I do not teach that this heart of Christ presented to men 504 HENRY WARD BEECHER. " gives tliem power to become the sons of God ;" that the ordinary human understanding could of itself develope the energy which is needed for the revolution of human character and life. I teach that there is a power behind it — the stimulating, enlightening, in- spiring spirit of God — the Holy Ghost — and that this view of Christ, when set home npon men by the Holy Spirit, this develop- ment of the Divine nature in Christ, " is the wisdom of God and the power of God unto salvation." It is asked whether I limit the effect of Christ's life and death to its relation to man, and whether it had no relation to the unseen world, to the law of God in heavenly places, to the administration of justice through the ages. In reply I would say, that I cannot conceive of the emer- gence from heaven of such a being as Christ, upon such a mission, without its ha\ing relations to the procedures of the unseen world. There are some passages of Scripture that bear strongly to that view. But whatever necessity there was for Christ's sacrifice apart from its influence on man, and whatever effect it may have had on Divine government, that part of the truth is left unex- plained in the Word of God. If alluded to, as I am inclined to think, it is left without expansion or solution. The Scriptures declare that the puffering of Christ secured the remission of sins. They do not say how it secures it. The fact is stated, but not the reason or phi!oso[)hy of it. The Apostles continually point to Christ's sufferings — they inspire hope because Christ has suffered ; they include in their commission that th^^ir joyful errand is to announce remission of sins by reason of Christ's work. But no- where do I see any attempt to reach those questions of modern theology. Whi/ was it necessary ? How did His suffering open a way for sinners ? I regard the statement in Romans 3 : 20-26 as covering the ground which I hold, and as including all that is known : ' ' Therefore by the deeds of the law there shall no flesh be justified in His sight : for by the law is the knowledge of sin. But now the righteousness of God without the law is manifested, being witnessed by the law and the prophets ; Even the righteousness of God which is'by faith of Jesus Christ unto all and upon all them that believe: for there is no dififerenoe : for all have sinned and come short of the glory of God ; being justified freely by His grace through the redemption that is in Christ Jesus : whom God hath set forth to be a propitiation through faith in His blood, to declare His righteousness for the remission of sins THEOLOGICAL. 505 that are past, througli the forbearance of God ; To declare, I say, at this time his righteousness : that He might be just, and the justifier of him which believeth in Jesus." That part of Christ's mission, or that part of the Atonement, if one choose that phrase, which flames through all the New Testa- ment, and which can be understood, is, that moral power which it exerts and those effects which, through the Holy Spirit, are pro- duced by it [At this point the report is resumed.] FUTURE PUNISHMENT. I will say a few words on the subject of eschatoloj^y. I believe in the teaching of the Scripture that conduct and character in this life produce respectively beneficial or detrimental effects both in the life that now is and in the life that is to come ; and that a man dying is not in the same condition on the other side whether he be bad or whether he be good ; but that consequences follow and go over the border ; and that the nature of the consequences of transgression — that is, such transgression as alienates the man from God and from the life that is in God — such consequences are so large, so dreadful, that every man ought to be deterred from venturing upon them. They are so terrible as to constitute the foundation of urgent motives and appeal on the side of fear, hold- ing men back from sin, or inspiring them with the desire of right- eousness. That far I hold that the Scriptures teach explicitly. Beyond that I do not go, on the authority of the Scriptures. I Lave my own philosophical theories about the future life ; but what is revealed to my mind is simply this : The results of a man's conduct reach over into the other world on those that are persistently and inexcusably wicked, and man's punishment in the life to come is of such a nature and of such dimensions as ought to alarm any man and put him off from the dangerous ground and turn him toward safety. I do not think we are authorized by th^- Scriptures to say that, it is endless in the sense in which we ordi- narily employ that term. So much for that, and that is the extent of my authoritative teaching on that subject. 506 HENRY WARD BEECHER. FAREWELL ! Now, Christian brethren, allow me to say that these views which I have opened to you, and which, of course, in preaching in the pulpit take on a thousand various forms, under differing illustra- tions, and for the different purposes for which I am preaching — allow me to say these views have not been taken up suddenly. I might as well say my hair was suddenly got up for the occasion, or that my bones I got manufactured because I wanted to go somewhe»-e. Why, they are part of my life and growth. I have not varied in the general line or direction from the beginning to this day — like a tree that grows and diversifies its branches, but is the same tree, the same nature. So I teach now with more ful- ness and with more illustrations and in a clearer light what I taught forty years ago. It is not from love of novelty that I vary in anything. I do not love novelty as such, but I do love truth. T am inclined to sympathize with the things that have been : rever- ence for the past lies deep in my nature. It has not been from any desire to separate myself from the teachings of my brethren in the Christian ministry. I should rather a thousand times go with them than go against them, though if I am called to go against them I have the courage to do it, no matter what the con- sequences may be. I have endeavored, through stormy times, through all forms of excitement, to make known what was the nature of God and what He expected human life to be, and to bring to bear upon that one point every power and infuence in me. I have nothing that I kept back — neither reason, nor wit, nor humor, nor experience, nor moral sensibility, nor social affection. I poured my whole, being into the ministry with this one object : to glorify God by lifting man up out of the natural state into the pure spiritual life. In doing this I have doubtless alienated a great many. The door has been shut, and sympathy has been withheld. I have reason to believe that a great many of the biethren of the Congregational faith would speak more than disapproval, and tliat many even in the association to which I be- long feel as though they could not bear the burden of responsi- bility of being supposed to tolerate the views I have held and taught, and it is on this account that I as a man of honor and a Christian gentleman cannot afford to lay on anybody the responsi- THEOLOGICAL. 507 bility of my views. I cannot afford especially to put tlicm in such a position that they are obliged to defend me. I cannot make them responsible in any way, and therefore I now here, and in the greatest love and sympathy, lay down my membership of tliis association and go forth — not to be separated from you. I shall be nearer to you than if I should be in ecclesiastical relation. I will work for you, I will lecture for you, I will personally do everything I can for you. I will even attend these meetings as a spectator, with you. T will devote my whole life to the Congre- gational churches and their interests, as well as to all other churches of Christ Jesus. I am not going out into the cold. I am not going out into another sect. I am not going away from you in any spirit of disgust. I never was in warmer personal sympa- thy with every one of you than I am now ; but I lay down the responsibility that you have borne for me —I take it off from you and put it on myself. And now you can say, " He is a member of the Congregational Church, but he has relieved his brethren of all responsibility whatever for his teachings." That you are per- fectly free to do. With thanks for your great kindness, and with thanks to God for the life which we have had here together, I am now no longer a member of the Congregational Association of New York and Brooklyn, but with you a member of the Body of Christ Jesus, in full fellowship with you in the matter of faith and love and hope. At the close of Mr. Beeclier'a addreps, after some informal debate, a committee of three, consistinjj of Messrs. H. M. Storrs, W. C. Stiles, and A. Wbittemore, was appointed to draft a resolution expressive of the sentiments of the Association, which, as finally amended, was carried without a dissenting voice. It was as follows : Resolved, That the memhers of the New York and Brookl3Ti Association receive the Rev. Henry Ward Beecher's resignation of his membership in this body with very deep pain and regret. We cannot fail to recognize the guncrons magnanimity which has led him to volunteer this action, lest he should seem even indirectly to make his brethren responsible before the public for the support of philosophical and theological doctrines wherein he is popularly supposed to differ essentially with those who hold the established and current evangelical faith. His full and proffered exposition of doc- trinal views that he has made at this meeting indicates the propriety of his continued membership in this or any other Congregational Association. We hereby declare our desire that he may see his way clear to reconsider and withdraw it. We desire to place on record as the result of a long and irtimate acquaintance with Mr. Beecher and afamiliar observation of the results of his life, as well as his preaching and pastoral work, that we cherish for him an ever-growing personal attachment as a brother beloved and a deepening eenae of his worth as a Christian minister. We cannot now contemplate the possibility of his future 'absence from our meetings without a de- pressing sense of the loss we arc to suffer, and unitedly pledge the hearts of the Association to him, and express the hope thiit the day for his return may soon come. 31 SPIRITUAL. now TO BECOME A CHRISTIAN.* There cannot be too much effort made to bring before the minds of men the truths of Christ. But, when men are made attentive to them, it seems to me that they should be made to feel the obligation to obey Christ, without so much urging, con- versatioa, and persuasive labor. Among uneducated heathen, it would be different ; but in a Christian country where you have literally known almost nothing else than the truths of the Gospel, presented not alone in the didactic and logical form, but presented evermore in that most blessed form in which the true Gospel is preached, namely, in the example of a praying father, a praying mother, a praying brother or sister, a consistent friend, wife or child, nothing more ought to be required. How men that have been taught in the household and in the church, by example as well as by precept, should fall into the mistake of supposing that whenever they begin to be inquirers they need then to go through another and special course of training, I cannot understand. I do not think that there is an intelli2:ent man in this conarreiJ^ation that is not abundantly qualified to- day, before the sun goes down, to become a true Christian in the spiritual and experimental sense of the term. More than that. Unless there has been some kind of an official touch, a man's conversion is scarcely thought to be complete ; unless some appointed class- leader, some elder, some deacon, above all, some minister, some eminent minister, has talked with him, explained it to him, upheld him in this hour, encouraged his hope and brought him clear out, he does not feel as though he were right. Whatever may be the hope he enjoys, there is still the =>• An Address delivered at a religious meeting in Burton's Old Theatre. Views — at the Peekskill Farm. SPIRITUAL. 511 impression that the work of grace requires the interposition of some official instruction. I wish you to be rid of this. A man who knows enough to take care of his business, to live obediently to the laws of the land, to live in the affections of the family, knows enough to begin a Chris- tian life. Religion and religious doctrines are very different things. We do not ask you to accept a theory of religious doctrine ; nor any system of philosophy. We ask you simply to begin a relig- ious life and to begin it now. Are you willing to be a Christian ? Are you willing from this hour to hold your disposition, your life-powers, and all your busi- ness, under the control of Christ ? Will you go to school to Christ and become a scholar, for the sake of learning how to live aright ? For, if you will, then you are a disciple of Christ. Disciple means scholar. A Christian is nothing but a sinful man who has put himself to school to Christ for the honest purpose of becoming better. It is not needful that you should have a great deal of feeling. Willingness to obey the will of Christ as fast as it is made known to you is better than feeling. It is not necessary for you to go through such a period of conviction of sin, as some men have. If you see the evil of your sinful life enough to wish to forsake it, that is repentance enough to begin with. Repentance is good for nothing except to turn away a man from evil, and you need not wait for any more than will suffice for that. The less feeling there is required to effect a moral revolution the better. I would not have you wait for ministers, or ^or Christians. You can be a Christian without help from either. They will gladly help you. But you ought not to lean on them. Go to your own work at once. It is a question between your soul and God. Will you acknowledge God as your Father ? Will you, from this hour, make it your business to conduct your whole life in accordance with God's v/ill revealed in the Gospel of Christ ? You may become a Christian now, and go home to your house- hold, and be enabled to ask a blessing at your table to-day ; you may stretch forth your hands, to the amazement of your wife and children, and, like a Christian man, ask a blessing upon your dinner, though it may be the first time in your life ; you may go home to night and begin family prayers where the sound of your 513 HENRY WARD BEECHER. voice In prayer has never been heard. I nrge you to take that course, and to take it at once. The word of God requires us to love the Lord our God with ail our heart, with all our soul, with all our mind, and our neighbor as ourself. Will you deliberately undertake to begin your life over again, from this hour, under this law ? Will you undertake to regard things as right or v/rong, as they agree or disagree with that rule ? Will you acknowledge yourself bound, henceforth, to act under that charter ? " Can I, then, do this by mere volition ?" Can you any more go down to the Battery by volition ? and yet you know that voli- tion will produce that result. For a proper volition always implies, not alone a choice of a thing, but also all the steps needed to accomplish this end. To determine that you will be warm, implies kindling a fire, or putting on clothing, or better yet, active exercise. You cannot be rich by wishing, but by choosing you can ; for choosing a thing always implies that you choose the appropriate means of obtaining it. And so every man may come into that state of love and benevolence required by Christ, if he will employ the word of God, prayer as the inspiration, and daily practice in ordinary conduct, as the means, " But can I suddenly, in a moment, reconstruct my character, change my conduct, alter my relations to things that are wrong, and be a thorough Christian in a moment ?" No ; you cannot be \ a perfect Christian in a moment, but you can begin to be an imperfect Christian in a moment. A man cannot make a journey in an instant, but he can begin instantly. A man cannot cleanse his hands in a moment, but he 'can begin to wash. A man cannot reclaim a piece of land in an hour, but he can begin the work, with the determination to perform the whole. The prodigal son could not go back to his father at one step, but he could deter- mine to perform the whole journey, and take the first step, and the next, and the next, perseveringly, and in right good earnest. Thus, to be a Christian is to enter upon a life which lias its imper- ifcct beginning, its rude development, its imperfections and mis- Vtakes, its successive states of growth, its gradual attainments, and its full final perfection only in another world. " But, is it right to call myself a Christian, when I do not do SPIRITUAL. 513 everj'tliing that Christ commands?" If you mean to obey in everything, if you are pained when you fail, if you resist evil, and seek deliverance from it, Christ will prove to you the most lenient and gracious teacher that scholar every had. A child is not ex- pelled from school for one poor lesson, nor for much dulness, nor for heedlessness, nor for disobedience, if the teacher knows that, on the whole, the child means to be a good scholar, if he confesses his faults and strives to amend. God brings up those who become his children with a great deal more patience, a great deal more forbearance, and tenderness of love, than any mother exer- cises toward a difficult and fractious child. No faults lead her to give him up, so long as there is hope that at length he will do better, and do well. And God is greater in love than any mother. And, if you will now accept this law of love, hold yourself bound by it, undertake to carry it out every day, not be dis- couraged by failures, persevere in spite of imperfections, you shall find in Christ such graciousness, such a forbearing and forgiving nature, as you will never find in any man. The moment that you realize this goodness of Christ, his help- fulness to you, his lenient, forgiving, sympathizing spirit, then you know what faith in Christ means. If such a Saviour attracts you and you strive all the more ardently, from love toward him, and trust in him, then you are a Christian : not a religious man merely, but a Christian. A man may worship through awe, or through a sense of duty, and I think there are hundreds of men in the churches who are only religious men, and not Christians. A man who feels toward God only awe or fear ; who obeys merely from a sense of duty ; who is under the dominion of conscience rather than of love, may be religious, but he is not a Christian. Such men live by con- science, they live by a bond, bound by fear. Their life is liter- ally one of service ; they are fatally servants of God, not in the sense in which the words are largely used in the Scriptures, mean- ing simply disciples of Christ, but they are most literally God's hired men, or worse — God's bondmen. Men must learn no longer merely to fear God, no longer to tremble as before the tyrannical master of a despotic government ; but to come unto him through Jesus Christ, and say, " Lord, I love thee, I trust thee, and T will serve thee because I love thee." 514 HENRY WARD BEECHER. Any man who knows enougli to love his cliildrcn, his father, mother, brother or sister, has theolog-jcal knowledge enough to know the Lord Jesus Christ. Now the question is this : Do you choose to do it ? If we were to put this question to any of you : Do you really choose to love the Lord Jesus Christ ? I suppose every man of you would say, " I do." But stop, there is a great distinction between desiring a thing and choosing a thing ; a man may desire without choosing. Do you suppose there is a man in the Tombs who does not desire to be an honest man ? But he does not choose to be ; there are other things which he desires more than that ; he desires money more than he does honesty ; he desires the means of debauchery and revelry more than he does honesty. Probably there is not a man given to his cups, in the city of New York, who, if you should ask him, " Do you not desire to become a reformed and temperate man ?" would not say, Yes, He desires it, but he does not choose it ; there are other things that he desires more, and he chooses the things which he desires most. Ask a poor ragged vagabond, " Do you not desire riches ?" Of course, he says he does. But he does not choose it, and you cannot make him choose it ; he does desire to be rich, but he desires to be lazy much more than that — therefore he is a vaga- bond. A man desires to be a scholar, but he does not choose it, because he likes his leisure much better than application. You desire an article of merchandise which you see along the street ; but when you inquire the price, you will not take it because you desire the money more. Almost every man desires something which he does not choose. We are full of desires, but we only choose those things for the possession of which we are willing to deny the solicitation of all antagonistic desires. That man who is willing to forego everything that stands in the way of the object which he desires, that man only can be said to have chosen it. Now I put the question to you. Do you desire the love of Christ ? Do you desire it more than you do your pleasures, more than ambition, more than selfish indulgences ? Are you willing to say before God, I desire it more than all things in the world ? If you do, I know not why you should not at once begin to be a Christian. You are competent to choose your business ; you do SPIRITUAL. 515 not need to ask any lawyers, doctors or ministers in order to do that. You are competent to choose your own course of Ufe ; you are competent to choose your own pleasures, and you never think of asking of others how to secure them. Why do you not stand upon your own power — or rather upon God's power, which woiks within yours — and become a Christian by your own voli- tion, just as you become a lawyer, a physician, a merchant, a traveller, a scholar ? Why do you not take three minutes of this sovereign power of choice, to become a Christian ? A man perhaps will say, " I desire to make that choice to-day." What he ought to say is this : " 1 make the choice. I make it now, and forever. I do in the presence of Almighty God, with all my soul determine that I will, through the love of Christ, make his wish the supreme law of ray life within and without. Not only in my relation directly to God, but in all my conduct toward my fellow- men, I wiU be governed by the revealed wish and law of God. Trusting to his mercy for pardon in all things wherein I come short, and depending on him for strength, I will make my work his work, and try like Jesus to find my meat and drink in doing God's holy will." Who of you can solemnly promise this before God ? Look at it all around and decide. Who can say, not that he will not be imperfect in carrying it out, but who can say, " That is to be my idea of life, that is to be my model, after which I am this hour and henceforth forever to strive " ? Is there a man who can take that step ? But, you say, " a man may take that stop, and may become by mere choice a Christian in that way ; but there is no love springs up — there is no grace in his heart or soul ; and how is he to have that peace, that joy, that rest, that we hear Christians talking about ? In other words, how is a man to have in his soul the sweet sense that his power is not in himself, but of Christ ?" I answer, the Lord will send that — but in his own way and tirne. Leave it to him. If feeling comes first, let it come. But do not wait for it. Move on. Follow your decision upon the path of duty, and you will by and by have all the feeling you need. Jesus Christ sits on the throne of the universe for the very purpose of giving sym- pathy and effectual help to every man who says, " Lord, I am needy ; Lord, I am bestormed and out of my course, and I come 516 HENRY WARD BEECHER. to tliee for sympathy and assistance." Upon that ground we are to look to Christ ; we have the power to choose him, and, if we do, we shall feel that mighty love, that conscious sympathy and presence, that power of God upon the heart of every man, which shall give him peace and joy. If you doubt, come unto Christ and you shall know whether it does not make you blessed. This willingness on your part, this faith in Christ, is the element that shall bring you in the right direction, to a consciousness of peace in Jesus Christ. But the great trouble is, I think, that you do not wish to be Christians so much as you wish other things. One of the most memorable things that took place last winter was the opening of a place as an eating-house, free to the hungry, in one of the streets of this city. The kind actor in this charity thought that he had no better way to use his money than to feed the hungry and the poor ; so he opened a room and made this dec- laration : " If any are hungry, here is food for them ; let them come and cat." Now, in the case of certain grades of men, there was no trouble about it. The man vvho was in the ditch, and so low that he knew that he was a miserable, degraded creat- ure, would scramble up quickly when he heard of this place ; run to it and betake himself to the food with almost indecent haste. And the man who had been dodging around from one expedient to another, till now he was nearly famished and did not know where to go to keep from starvation, hears that here there were great, bountiful rounds of beef and glorious loaves of bread, any quantity, indeed, of provision, and away he runs to see if it was really so ; he would not talk much, or preach much, but he would practise a great deal ; for, let me tell you that your hungry men care very little for the theory of eating or digestion. It is the practice which they dote upon. But here comes a man who has been more respectable ; he has lived in genteel society and given dinner parties in his prosperous days ; the times have been rather hard upon him, but he expects that the spring will set him up all right again ; he has been home with everybody who asked him to eat, has been to everybody's house but his own, for there was nothing to eat there ; he has borrowed all the money he could, but now no one asks him to dine, and he can borrow no more. He has gone to bed hungry at night, and oh ! what dreams he has had out of that SPIRITUAL. 517 gnawing stomach ; he wakes up in the morning and says to him- self, " I wonder where I can get any breakfast ?" He thinks to be sure of that dining-saloon just opened, where there is plenty of food to be had for nothing ; but he says, " I cannot go down there, I cannot humble myself so much ; I, who have been able, and in the habit of giving charity, to go down there and get my food, and become a beggar ? I can't do that !" So, he wanders about till noon, and though the hunger gnaws at his stomach, and he is faint and weary, he will not go in yet, so he wanders on till about sundown. But at sundown he says to himself — and hunger is an excellent logician — " After all, am I not acting foolishly ? I am so weak I can hardly stand, and it does seem to me that I cannot sleep to- night for the gnawings of hunger. Oh, how I want this food ; I think I will just go down the street." So away he goes, like a great many men who have come in here to-day, saying that they just came in to see what was going on, but who know that down deep in their own hearts there is something else beside curiosity which they cannot resist. Well, away he goes down the street, and looks in to see who is there ; then he watches to see if any- body is looking at him, or if anybody knows him ; he goes away and Avalks up the square, but he is reminded frojn within that he had better come back again. This time he walks right by the door, and looks in askance to see if anybody is in there ; he hears the cheerful noise of the knives and forks, smells the wholesome food, hears the laughter of joyful men, hungry men doing work meet for hunger. Now, suppose that, as he stands there, he should see, among those going down, the butcher and baker loaded with great piles of meat and bread, and should stop them to say : " I am almost dead with hunger, I have been invited here to take something to eat, but before I go down I should like to know the precise process by which flour is made into bread !" — just as men come to me, wishing me to explain to them the doctrines of justification, sovereignty, atonement, and other things, when they are dying for want of Christ's loving help ! So this man stops the baker to ask him how bread is made, but the butcher and the baker step in with their load. He listens again to the cheerful music of the rattling dishes — and there is no such music to a hungry man's ear, and says, " I 518 HENRY WARD BEECHER. cau't go in yet ; I am not satisfied as to the way these things are made." So he walks away, but hunger gives him another turn, and back he goes and looks in again, and says, "If it wasn't for — if it wasn't for — " then he looks up the street to see if any- body is looking at him, and says, " I will just go down one step." He steps down, and the attraction is so great that he goes in ; nobody seems to know him, nobody seems surprised ; he reaches out his hand and takes hold of a dry crust, and the tears come into his eyes as he puts it into his mouth. Oh, how sweet it is ! With that he sits right down and makes a feast, and as he rises up again, he says to himself, " Oh, what a fool I was, that I did not come long before and often." Are there not just such fools in this congregation ? You go up and down, to and fro, before Christ's table, when there is bread that will cause that hunger to cease forever, and water drawn from the river that comes from God's throne ; and yet you have gone back, thinking wliatyour wife would say, what your father would say, what your partner would say, what your gay companions would say. But you feel the gnawings of hunger, and, as you look at the spread table, you say, " Oh, how we need this food, but we dare not come and take it." Oh, it is shame, pride, or fear, that keeps you thus back. Oh, if there was only hunger enough to bring you to the right point, then, having once tasted, you would rise up from that feast, with the blessed assurance that yet once again you should sit down at a still nobler table, at the marriage supper of the Lamb ! Now, if there are any in this congregation that have seen the bounty spread forth in the love of Christ, which they can have " without money^ and without price," as promised by Jesus Chi-ist, do not let them wait for somebody to explain it any more. Try it yourselves to-day ! I am ashamed of myself, often, to be an object of more faith than my Saviour ; yet I have persons coming to me every day of my life, with their wants and troubles, instead of going to Christ. How eagerly they believe every statement I make ; how they hang upon my sympathy, and hope I will let them come again to- morrow. I say to myself, if you would only come to Christ with half the faith that brings you to mc, you might be rejoicing in half an hour. Suppose now, that instead of a man sinful and erring SPIRITUAL. 519 like yourselves, 3-ou should put in my place tlie august form of the Lord Jesus Christ, full of benignity, glorious with goodness, and with a sweetness that is more than any mother ever knew for her darling child, waiting patiently, bending over you and saying, " Come unto me and take my yoke upon you ;" " learn of me and ye shall find rest to your souls," " for he that cometh unto me I will in no wise cast out." Suppose you should hear Jesus Christ saying, " I have been out to seek and search for lost men, and I have found you, and I am j^ersuading you to come to me ; believe me that I love you, that I love you now," If there is a man that has one thought toward God, it is because the love of God is drawing him sympathetically to himself. It is a blessed thought that Jesus Christ is longing for you, and I would that you might turn still more earnestly to Jesus Christ and say, " Lord, I believe thee, I believe thou lovest me ; I believe thou desirest to make me thine, and from this hour it shall be the object of my life to please thee, and the one firm object of my live to serve thee." Will you try the effect of that vow, some of you, to- day ? Try it at once, even now, while I am speaking. I always feel most for those who are furthest from grace, perhaps, because I see in them some likeness to myself. But my Master also had a special regard for such. One of the most touching things in the life of Christ, is the way in which the wretched looked at him. The literary, the philosophical, the lich, the great political men of that day did not think much of Christ ; but he had such a sweet way of carrying himself in all Jerusalem, that whenever he went into a house to sit down and rest, all the vagabonds and wretches came round about him, as though he was their patron. They felt " somebody cares for me ; somebody, instead of thumping me with a truncheon, instead of putting my hands in manacles, loves and cares for me." They did not know what to make of the quiet, gentle effect of the character of Christ ; and wherever he went all manner of wicked men poured round about him. Such was his sweetness that all the wretched and miserable came to see him ; such was the impression he made upon the lowest class in Jerusalem. Why should we not all be like him ? Whenever I know of a man that nobody else prays for, it seems as if my heart would break for him. If I hear of a man 520 HENRY WARD BEECHER. that has broken away from all instruction, instead of saying, " he is a devil, I would much rather say he is my brother, and 1 must heartily pray for him." When I walk up Broadway, 'tis a pain to me to look up and down the street and see so many, with apparently nobody to care for their souls. Now, if there is in this house to-day any man who is wicked and degraded ; if there is any man who sells rum — and that makes about as bad a man as can be in this world — I don't say this to hurt your feel- ings, but because, as a servant of Christ, I must talk plainly to every man — if there is a man in this congregation that has gotten his living by stealing, from the most vulgar form of steal- ing up to the most respectable, genteel way in which so-called honest men steal, and call it financiering ; if there arc any who live in any way discreditably in the eye of the world or in the eye of God ; any who make catering to lust or passion their means of livelihood ; if there are any who have stood upon these boards, not to instruct, but simply to amuse or degrade their fellow- men ;. actors, managers, or any others — give me your hand, you are my brethren ! It is the blood of Christ that makes you and me related, which is more precious than the blood of your father or my father. My soul goes out for you ; and I long that you should know how Christ feels for you. Oh ! wandering sheep, be not ye lost ! Christ calls to you by my voice. He sends me here to say to some man who is on the point of decision, but who thinks it is of no use to try to be good any longer — drink, per- haps, may be taking you down ; or your passions are dragging you down, and do not know how to resist the insidious pleasures which surround you ; or your companions are taking you down, and nobody, as you think, cares for you — nobody prays for you or gives you instruction. Yes, there is one man who does — I care for you ; not out of my own nature, but because the spirit of my Master makes me thus care for your soul. He sent me to tell you that He — glorious as He is — that He cares for you ten thou- sand times more than I do. He loves you — He longs for you ; and there shall not be one man who makes one faint motion toward a better life whom He will not stand ready to receive. He shall send forth the angels, saying unto them, " Take care of that man, and bear him up lest at any time he dash his foot against a stone." SPIRITUAL. 521 But, let me tell you, in this matter you inust be in earnest ; you must be thoroughly resolved. Prayers have this morning been asked in your hearing for a Christian woman who, at the peril of life, has Hed from slavery. Now, I want to know if there is a man in this congregation who desires to get rid of his sins as much as this poor woman did to get rid of her slavery ? She was willing to put her life in her hand, and, for days, without food, without drink, to seek for liberty as for her very life. Is there a slave in this congregation ? A slave to Satan or to his own passions ? Is there any who wants to escape as much as this poor woman did ? AYho strikes for liberty in Jesus Christ ? Who desires to say to-day, not about one habit, but of all bad habits, " I desire to reform — I will reform '"? It is easier to reform all at once than it is to reform one thing at a time. It a man wishes to wash a spot, big as a penny, clean on a dirty hand, he will find it much easier to wash the whole hand than that one spot. This gradual repentance is like a man who wants to be taken out from a burning building, but who says to those about him, " Xow, don't take me out too suddenly ; take me down first to a room where it is not quite so hot as it is here ; and then to another room, where there is still less heat, and so take me out gradually." Why, the man would be a cinder before you got him out ! A man who wants to reform should reform perpendicularly ! If you mean to quit drinking, quit it at once, and become a Christian ! If you want to be an honest man, go to God ! Begin there. It is easier to reform any vice by becom- ing a Christian at once, than to attempt it from a lower motive. Take upon you the highest bond of truth ! A man who tries to reform without the help of God, is like the man who tries to breathe without air. Now, is there any man here who seeks for reform ? — there is hope for you ; there is prayer for you ; and better than that, there is God for you — there is Christ for you ! I hope and desire that in consequence of these remarks, some man who has been bound in sin may be converted. Who shall it be ? Shall it be you ? Some of you whose friends have been laboring for you, SHALL IT NOT BE YOU ? POLITICAL. SPEECH IN LONDON. Of the circumstances attending the speech in London, given below, the last of Mr. Beecher's historic orations in England, a full account has been given in the preceding chapters, both by Mr. Beecher himself and by others who were present. It is enough here to say that the meeting was held in Exeter Hall under the auspices of the Emancipation Society, that it was crowded to its utmost capacity, and that it was presided over by the Chamberlain of London, while on the platform were a number of distinguished Englishmen, both clergymen and laymen. There is room here only for a part of this speech, which is printed here both to indi- cate the character of Mr. Beecher's English speeches, and also the general characteristics of his political addresses. As this is my last public address upon the American question in England, I may be permitted to glance briefly at my course here. (Hear, hear.) At Manchester I attempted to give a history of the external political movement for fifty years past, so far as it was necessary to illustrate the. fact that the present American war was only an overt and warlike form of a contest between liberty and slavery that had been going on politically for half a century. (Hear, hear.) At Glasgow I undertook to show the condition of work or labor necessitated by any profitable system of slavery, demonstrating that it brought into contempt, aftixing to it the badge of degradation, and that a struggle to extend servile labor across the American continent interests every free working-man on the globe. (Cheers.) For my sincere belief is that the Southern cause is the natural enemy of free labor and the laborer all the world over. (Loud cheers.) In Edinburgh T endeavored to POLITICAL. 523 sketch how, out of separate colonies and states intensely jealous of their individual sovereignty, there grew up and was finally established a nation, and how in that Nation of United States, two distinct and antagonistic 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 Government was in future to be administered by men who would give their whole influence to freedom. (Loud cheers.) In Liverpool I labored, under difficulties — (laughter ' and cheers) — to show that slaverj' in the long run was as hostile to commerce and to manu- facturers all the world over, as it was to free interests in human society — (cheers) — that a slave nation must be a poor customer, buying the fewest and poorest goods, and the least profitable to the producers — (hear, hear) — that it was the interest of every manufacturing country to promote freedom, intelligence, and wealth among all nations — (cheers) — that this attempt to cover the fairest portion cf the earth with a slave population that buys next to nothing should array against it every true political econo- mist and every thoughtful and far-seeing manufacturer, as tending to strike at the vital want of commerce — which is not cotton, but rich customers. (Cheers.) I have endeavored to enlist against this flagitious wickedness, and the great civil war which it has kindled, the judgment, conscience, and interests of the British people. (Cheers.) 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 momen- tous topics ; and there have been some other circumstances which made it yet more diflacult to present a careful or evenly balanced statement ; 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. (Cheers.) 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. (Hear, hear.) I have tried to show that in this contest the North were contend- ing for the preservation of their Government and their own terri- tory, and those popular institutions on which the well-being of the nation depended. (Hear, hear.) So far, I have spoken to 524 HENRY WARD BEECHER. 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. (Hear, hear.) That is, I wish you to take our stand-point for a little while — (cheers) — and to look at our actions and motives, not from what the enemy say, but from what we say. (Cheers.) 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. (Hear, hear.) Now there has been some disagreement of feeling between Ameri- ca and Great Britain. I don't want to argue the question to- night which is right and which is wrong, but if some kind neigh- bor 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 be mistaken." (Loud cheers.) You may not thus get a settlement of the difficult)/, but you will get a settlement of the quarrel. (Hear, hear.) I merely ask you to put yourselves in our track for one hour, and look at the objects as we look at them — (cheers) — after that, form your judgment as you please. (Cheers.) The first and earliest form in which the conflict took place between North and South was purely moral. It was a conflict simply of opinion and of truths by argument ; and by appeal to the moral sense it was sought to persuade the slaveholder to adopt some plan of emancipation. (Hear, hear.) AVhen this seemed to the South- ern 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 argument. It was said, " The evil is upon us ; we cannot help it. We are sullied, but it is a misfortune rather than a fault. (Cheers.) It is not right for the North to meddle with that which is made worse by being meddled with, 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 preach- ing 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. (Cheers.) The next stage of the conflict was purely political. The South was attempt- ing to extend their slave system into the Territoiics, and to POLITICAL. 525 prevent free States from covering tlie continent, by bringing 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 enormous power and influence of the Central Executive, but also to engraft into the whole Federal Government a slave state jiolicy. They meant to fill all offices at home and abroad with men loyal to slavery — to shut up the road to political preferment against men who had aspirations for freedom, 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 uniform 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 external aggression — worse, to fill the courts with Southern judges — (shame) — 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 principles, the North would have to submit to slavery, or else to oppose it by violating the law and Constitution as construed by servile judges. (Hear, hear.) They were, in short, little by little, injecting the laws. Constitution, and policy of the country with the poison and blood of slavery. (Cheers.) [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 longing for its extinction throughout America, was unable until this war to touch slavery directly. The North could only contend against slave policy — not directly 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 State jurisdic- tion. A direct act on the part of the North to abolish slavery would have been revolutionary. (A voice : " We do not under- stand you.") You will imderstand me before I have done with you to-night. (Cheers.) Such an attack would have been a vio- lation of the fundamental principle of State independence. This 32 526 HENRY WARD BEECHER. peculiar structure of our Government is not so unintelligible to Englishmen as you may tbink. It is only taking an English idea on a larger scale. We have borrowed it from you. A great many do not understand 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 — (cheers) — by which local matters belong exclusively to the local 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 members 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 constituted. The interior economy of the house belongs 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 chil- dren opium, but all the doctors in London cannot say to a man that he shall not drug his child. Tt is his business, and if it is wrong it cannot be interfered with. I will give you another illus- tration. Five men form a partnership of business. Now, that partnership represents the National Government of the United States ; but it has relation 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 the man may be a drunkard, a gambler, a lecherous and indecent man, but the firm cannot meddle with his morals. I cannot touch anything but business interests that belong to the firm. Now, our States came POLITICAL. 527 together on this doctrine — that each State, in respect to those rights and institutions that were local and peculiar to it, was to have undivided sovereignty over its own affairs ; but that all those powers, such as taxes, wars, treaties of peace, which belong to one State and are common to all States went into the General Government. The General Government 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 ? (Cheers. ) It was only that part of slavery which escaped from the State jurisdiction and which entered into the national sphere which formed the subject of controversy. We could not justly touch the Constitution of the States, but only the policy of the National Government that came out beyond the State and appeared in Congress and in the Territories. (Cheers.) We are bound to abide by our fundamen- tal law. Honor, fidelity, integrity, as well as patriotism, required us to abide by that law. The great conflict between the South and North, until this war began, 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. (Cheers.) 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 politically 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 — fidelity, though not a shining qual- ity— are fundamental to manly integrity. (Cheers.) 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 forbearance 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 Government, and at her own life — her determination to hold fast pact and constitution, 528 HENRY WARD BEECHER. and to gain her victories by giving the people a new National policy — will yet be deemed worthy of something better than a contemptuous sneer, or the allegation of an " enormous national vanity." (Cheers.) The Northern forbearance is one of those themes of which we may be justly proud — (" Oh," and cheers) — a product of virtue, a fruit of liberty, an inspiration of that Chris- tian faith, which is the mother at once of truth and of liberty. (Cheers. ) 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 tc^enforce emancipation. She went to war to save the National institutions — (cheers) — to save the Territories ; to sustain those laws which would first circum- scribe, then suffocate, and finally destroy slavery. (Cheers.) That is the reason why that most true, honest, just, and conscien- tious magistrate, Mr. Lincoln— (the announcement of Mr. Lincoln's name was received with loud and continued cheering. The whole audience rose and cheered for some time, and it was a few minutes before Mr. Beecher could proceed.) From having spoken much at tumultuous assemblies I had at times 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. (Laughter.) How then did the North pass from a conflict with the South and a slave policy, to a direct attack upon the institutions of slavery itself ? Because, according to the foreshadowing of that wisest man of the South, Mr. Stephens, they beleaguered the National Govern- ment and the national life with the institution of slavery — obliged a sworn President, who was put under oath not to invade that institution, to take his choice between the safety and life of the Government itself, or the slavery by which it was beleaguered. (Cheers.) If any man lays an obstruction on the street, and blocks up the street, it is not the fault of the people if they walk over it. As the fundamental right of individual self-defence cannot be withdrawn without immorality ; so the first element of national life is to defend life. As no man attacked on the highway 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 POLITICAL. 529 destroy the enemy, by which otherwise it will be destroyed. (Hear.) 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. (Loud cheers.) 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 constitutional governments ; it has no power to touch slavery while slavery remains a State institution. But when it lifts itself up out of its State humility and becomes banded to attack the nation, it becomes a national enemy, and has no longer exemp- tion. (Cheers.) But it is said, " The President issued his proclamation after all for political effect, not for humanity." (Cries of " Hear, hear.") Of course the right of issuing a proclamation of emancipation was political, but the disposition to do it was personal. (Loud cheers.) 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. (Applause.) He is bound to ask, " What is the law ?" — not, " What is my sympathy ?" (Hear, hear.) And when a judge sees that a rigid execution or intei-pretation of the law goes along with primitive justice, with humanity, and with pity, he is all the more glad because his priv^ate feelings go with his public office. (Cheers.) Perhaps in the next house to a kind and benevolent surgeon is a boy who fills the night with groans, because he has a cancerous 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. (Hear, hear.) But at last the father says to him, " In the name of God, come in and save my child ;" and he goes in profession- ally and cuts off his leg and saves his life, to the infinite disgust of a neighbor over the way, that says " Oh, he would not go in from neighborly feeling and cut his leg off." (Loud applause.) I should like to know how any man has a right to cut your leg or mine off except professionally — (laughter and cheers) — 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 530 HEXRY WARD BEECHER. 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. (Applause.) Now I promised to make that clear ; have I done it ? (" Hear, hear," and applause.) It is said, " Why not let the South go ?" (" Hear, hear," and cheers.) " Since they won't be at peace with you, why do you not let them separate from you ?'" Because they would he still less peaceable when separated. (Hear, hear.) Oh, if the Southerners only would go ! (Laughter.) They are determined to stay — that is the trouble. (Hear, hear.) We W(juld furnish free passage to all of them if they would go. (Laughter.) But we say the land is ours. (Cheers.) Let them go, and leave to the nation its land, and they will have our unanimous consent. (Renewed cheers.) 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. (Hear, hear.) 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. (Applause.) The attack made upon us was under circumstances which inflicted immediate severe humiliation and threatened us with final subjuga- tion. 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 important offices in the army and navy. They had the vantage of having long anticipated and prepared for the conflict. (Hear, hear.) We knew not whom to trust. One man failed -and another man failed. Men, pensioned by the Government, lived on the salary of the Govern- ment only to have better opportunity to stab and betray it. There was not merely one Judas, there were a thousand in our country. (" Hear, hear," and hisses.) 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. (Loud cheers and some hisses.) Secondly, the honor and safety POLITICAL. 531 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 ena- bling 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." Oh, Englishmen, would you let a minority dictate in such a way to you ? (Loud cries of " No, no, never !" and cheers.) Three thousand njiles off don't make any difference, then ? (" No, no.") 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 overthrown by which States have been settled 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 application to counties as in the appli- cation 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. (Cheers.) This doctrine of Secession is a huge revolving millstone that grinds the national life to powder. (Cheers.) It is anarch}^ in velvet, and national destruction clothed in soft phrases and periphrastic expressions. (Cheers.) But we have fought with that devil " Slavery," and understand him better than you do. (Loud cheers.) No people with patriotism and honor will give up terri- tory without a struggle for it. (Cheers.) Would you give it up? (Loud cries of "No.") It is said that the States are owners of their territory ! 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 Connecticut objected. The New Englanders were State-right men, and the South, in the first instance, seemed altogether for a National Government. 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. (A voice : " When was that ?") It was in the Convention of 1787. He wants to help me. (Laughter.) I like such interruptions. I am here a friend among friends. (Cheers.) Nothing will please me better than any question asked in courtesy and in earnest to 532 HENRY WARD BEECHER. elucidate this subject. I am not afraid of being interrupted bj- questions whicli are to the point. (Cheers.) At this convention the resokition of the New England delegates that they should form a Confederacy instead of a Nation was voted down, and never came up again. (Cheers.) 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 among the North and South on the subject, when the draft came to the committee for revision, and they had simply to put in the proper phraseology, they put it " for the purpose 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 np again until this secession, when it was galvanized to justify that which has no other pretence to justice. (Cheers.) 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. (Hear, hear.) The men who cry out for secession of the Southern States in America would say, "Kent seceding? Ah, circumstances alter cases." (Cheers and laughter.) The Mississippi, which is our Southern door and hall to come in and go out, runs right through the territory which they tried to rend from us. The South mag- nanimously 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." (Cheers and laugh- ter.) But there was another question involved — the question of national honor. If you take, up and look at the map that delineates the mountainous features of that continent, 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 pai't of Georgia. (Hear, hear.) Now, all the world over, men that live in mountainous regions have been men for liberty — (cheers) — and from the first hour to this hour the majority of the popu- lation of Western Virginia, which is in this mountainous region, the majority of the population of Eastern Tennessee, of Western Carolina, and of North Georgia, have been true to the Union, and POLITICAL. 533 were urgent not to go out. They called to the National Govern- ment, " We claim that, in fulfilment of the compact of the Consti- tution, you defend our rights, and retain us in the Union." (Cheers.) 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 wars and disturb- ances, 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— (cheers and hisses)— and when Elijah found this Ahab in the way, Ahab said, " It is Elijah that has disturbed Israel." (A laugh.) 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 vio- lences, and take possession of the continent in the name of the Devil and slavery. (Cheers.) One more reason why we will not let this people go is because we do not want to become a mili- tary 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 becomes a militaiy nation, and the North is compelled to become a military nation. Along a line of 1500 miles she must have forts, and men to garrison them. These 250,000 soldiers will constitute the national standing army of the North. Now any nation that has a large standing army is in great danger of losing its liberties. (" No, no.") Before this war the legal size of the national army was 25,000. That was all ; the actual number was 18,000, and those were all the soldiers we wanted. The Tribune and other papers repeatedly said that these men were useless in our nation. But if the country were divided, then we should have two great military nations taking its place, and instead of a paltry 18,000 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 array, like a boy with a knife she will always want to whittle with it. (Laughter and cheers.) 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— (cheers, and cries of " No, no") — 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 insult- 534 HENRY WARD BEECHER. ing foreign nations. (Cheers.) But that is not all. The relig- ious-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 Geld, 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. (Cheers.) Therefore we undertook to rid the territory of slavery. Since slavery di- vested itself of its municipal protection, and has become a declared public enemy, it is our duty to strike down the slavery which would blight this far 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 asked, " 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?" Wliat 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, independent 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. (Cheers.) Yet how many are there who up, down, and over all England are saying, " Let slavery go — let slavery go " ? It is recorded, I think, in the biography of one of the most noble of your own countrymen. Sir T. Fowell Buxton — (cheers) — 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 efforts, dashing hither and thither against wall and fence, held him until help could be got. If theie 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 POLITICAL. 535 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 ? (Cheeis.) We will peril life and limb and all we have first. These truths are not exaggerated — they are diminished rather than magnified in my statement ; 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 feeling 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. (Cheers.) But it is said, " What a ruthless business this war of extermination is !" I have heard it stated that a fellow from America, purpoiting 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 exter- mination. Well, if he said so he will stick to it — (cheers) — but not in a way in which enemies put these words. 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 principjles of liberty and slavery — (cheers) — that it is the cause of the common people all the world over. (Renewed cheers.) We believe that every struggling nationality on the globe will be stronger if we conquer this odious oligarchy of slavery, and that every oppressed people in the world will be weaker if we fail. "(Cheers.) 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 w^hole 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 civilization. " (Cheers.) If we say this of ourselves, shall we say less of the slaveholders ? If we are 536 HENRY WARD BEECHER. willing to do these things, shall we say, " Stop the war for their sakes" ? If wo say this of ourselves, shall we have more pity for the rebellious, for slavery seeking to blacken a continent with its awful evil, desecrating the social phrase, " National Indepen- dence" by seeking only an independence that shall enable them to treat four millions as chattels? (Cheers.) Shall we be tenderer over them than over ourselves ? 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. (Cheers.) 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 de- termination to fight this war through at all hazards and at every cost. (Immense cheering, accompanied with a few hisses.) I am obliged for this diversion ; it rests me. Against this state- ment of facts and principles 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 Britain that bave deliberately and knowingly spoken what is not the truth. (Applause, and loud cries of the Times. " Three groans for the Times .f^) It is declared that the North has no sincerity. It declares that the North treats the blacks worse than the South does. (Hear, hear.) 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, unphilanthrnpic squabble of men gone mad with national vanity. (Cheers and hisses.) Oh, what a pity that a man should " fall nine times the space that measures day and night" to make an apostasy which dishonors his closing days, and to wnpe out the testimony for liberty that he gave in his youth ! But oven if all this monstrous lie about the North — this noedlcss slander — were true, still it would not alter the fact that Northern success will POLITICAL. 637 carry liberty — Soutliern success, slavery. (Cheers.) Fdr when society dashes against society, the results are not what the individ- ual motives of the members of society would make them — the results are what the institutions of society 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 life behind, and the genius of that renowned kingdom which sent that army to victory — meant and thought, (near, hear.) And even if the President were false — if every Northern man were a juggling hypocrite — that does not change the Constitution ; and it does not change the fact that if the North prevails, she carries Northern ideas and Northern insti- tutions with her. (Cheers.) But I hear a loud protest against war. (Hear, hear.) 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 warfare, 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. ("Hear, hear," and cheers.) But excepting them, I regard this British horror of the American war as something wonderful. (Renewed cheers and laughter.) W^hy, it is a phenomenon in itself ! On what shores has not the prow of your ships dashed ! (Hear, hear.) What land is there with a name and a people, where your banner has not Jed your soldiers ? (Hear, hear.) And when the great resurrection reveille shall sound, it will muster British soldiers from every clime and people under the whole heaven. (Cheers.) Ah ! but it is said this is a war against your own blood. (Hear, hear.) How long is it since you poured soldiers into Canada, and let all your yards work night and day to avenge the taking of two men out of the Trent? (Loud applause.) Old England shocked at a war of principle I She gained her glories in such wars. (Cheers.) Old England ashamed of a war of principle ! Her national ensign symboh'zes her history, the cross in a field of blood. (Cheers.) And will you tell us, who inherit your blood, your ideas, and your high spirits — (cheers) — that we must not fight ? (Cheers.) The child 538 HENRY WARD BEECHER. 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." (Cheers and hisses.) Perhaps you think that the old island will do a little longer. (Hisses.) Perhaps you think there is coal enough. Perhaps you think the stock is not quite run out yet ; but whenever England comes to that state that she does not go to war for principle, she had better emigrate, and we will give her room. (Laughter.) 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. (Groans for the Times ; groans for the Telegraph.) You cut my poor sentence in two, and all the blood runs out of it. (Laugh- ter.) I was just going to say that, like most of you, I don't believe in the Times, but I always read it. (Laughter.) 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 argument is the last thing that was in the Times. (Laughter.) 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 sympathy of Great Britain had gone for the South. (" No, no.") 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 shafts 3000 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. (Hear.) 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. (Hear, hear.) I shall have a different story to tell when I get back. (The assembly rose, and for a few moments hats and handkerchiefs were waved enthusias- tically amid loud cheering. A voice : " What about the Russians ?" Hear, hear.) A gentleman asks me to say a word about the Russians in New York harbor. As this is a little POLITICAL. 539 private, confidential meeting — (laughter) — I will tell you tlie fact abuut tbem. (Laughter.) The fact is this — it is a little piece of coquetry. (Laughter.) 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 ? (Laugh- ter.) New York is flirting with Russia, but she has got her eye on England. (Cheers.) AVell, I hear men say this is a 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. (Loud cheers.) Xow you know what we felt when you were flirting with Mr. Mason at your Lord Mayor's banquet. (Cheers.) Ladies and gentlemen, it did not do us any hurt 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. (A laugh.) 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. (Cheers.) And 1 stand here to declare that America is the proper and natural ally of Great Britain. I declare that all sorts of alliances with Continental 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 civilization 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 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. (Cheers.) 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 between father and son and mother and daughter, you will be able to say, " Show us how he is sowing discord ?" If I had 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 maintaincrs 540 HENRY WARD BEECHER. of the monstrous policy of the South. However, since I have come over to tliis country you have told me the truth, 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. (Loud cheers.) Then there are the weighty words spoken by Lord Russell at Glasgow, and the words spoken by the Attorney-General. (Cheers.) 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 furtherance of the gospel and for the happiness of mankind. (Cheers.) I thank you for your long patience with me. ("Go on !") 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 let yon go away wishing I had spoken longer than go away saying, " What a tedious fellow he was !" (A laugh.) And therefore if you will not 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 occa- sions under difficulties, within seven or eight days, and I am so exhausted that I ask you to permit me to stop. (Great cheer- ing.) Professor Newman then rose and moved the following resolu- tions : " Resolved, That this meeting presents its most cordial thanks to the Rev. Henry Ward Beecher for the admirable address which he has delivered this evening, and expresses its hearty sympathy with his reprobation of the slaveholders' rebel- lion, his vindication of the rights of a free Government, and his aspirations for peace and friendship between the English people and their American brethren ; and as this meeting recognized in Mr. Beecher one of the early pioneers of negro emancipation, as well as one of the most eloquent and successful of the champions of that great cause, it rejoices in this opportunity of congratulating him on the triumphs with which the labors of himself and his associates have been crowned in the anti-slavery policy of Presi- dent Lincoln and his Cabinet." (Cheers.) This motion was spoken to by Professor Newman, Rev. POLITICAL. 541 Newman Hall, and G. Thompson, Esq., and was unanimously carried. The following account of the scene outside the Hall is taken from a volume containing a report of the English speeches, pub- lished at the time in Great Britain, hut now out of print. OUTSIDK THE HALL. The scene outside Exeter Hall last evening was one of a most extraordinary description. The lecture of the Rev. Mr. Beecher had been advertised to commence at seven o'clock, and it was announced that the hall doors would be opened at half-past six. The crowd, however, began to assemble as early as five o'clock, and before six o'clock it became so dense and numerous as com- pletely to block up, not only the footway, but the carriage-way of the Strand ; and the committee of management wisely determined at once to throw open the doors. The rush that took place was of the most tremendous character, and the hall, in every available ])art, became filled to overflowing in a few minutes. No percep- tible diminution, however, was made in the crowd, and at half-past six there w^ere literally thousands of well-dressed persons strug- gling to gain admission, despite of the placards exhibited announc- ing the hall to be " quite full." The policemen and hall-keepers were powerless to contend against this immense crowd, who ultimately fi led the spacious corridors and staircases leading to the hall, still leaving an immense crowd both in the Strand and Burleigh Street. At ten minutes before seven o'clock Mr. B. Scott, the City Chamberlain, and the chairman of the meeting, accompanied by a large body of the Committee of the Emancipa- tion Society, arrived, but were unable to make their way through the crowd, and a messenger was despatched to the Bow Street Police-station for an extra body of police. About thirty of the reserve men were immediately sent, and those aided by the men already on duty at last succeeded in forcing a passage for the chairman and his friends. Mr. Beecher at this time arrived, but was himself unable to gain admittance to the hall until a quarter of an hour after the time appointed for the commencement of his address. The reverend gentleman bore his detention in the crowd with great good-humor, and was rewarded with a perfect ovation, 33 542 HENRY WARD BEECHER. the crowd pressing forward in all directions to shake hands with him. He was at last fairly carried into the hall on the shoulders of the policemen, and the doors of the hall were at once closed, and guarded by a body of police, who distinctly announced that no more persons would be admitted whether holding tickets or not. This had the effect of thinning to some extent the crowd outside ; but some two thousand or more people still remained eager to seize on any chance of admission that might arise. At a quarter past seven a tremendous burst of cheers from within the building announced that Mr. Beecher had made his appearance on the platform. The cheering was taken up by the outsiders, and re-echoed again and again. The bulk of the crowd had now congregated in Burleigh Street, which was completely filled, and loud cries were raised for some member of the Emancipation Committee to address them. The call was not, however, responded to. Several impromptu speakers, however, mounted upon the shoulders of some workingnien, addressed the people in favor of the policy of the North, and their remarks were received with loud cheering from the large majority of those present. One or two speakers raised their voices in sympathy with the South, but these were speedily dislodged from their positions by the crowd, whose Northern sympathies v/ere thus unmistakably exhib- ited. Every burst of cheers that resounded from within the hall was taken up and as heartily responded to by those outside. Indeed, they could not have been more enthusiastic had they been listening to the eloquent lecturer himself. This scene continued without intermission until the close of the meeting. When Mr. Beecher and his friends issued from the building they were again received with loud cheers. A call for a cheer for Abraham Lincoln was responded to in a manner that only an English crowd can exhibit. A strong body of police were stationed in the Strand and Burleigh Street, but no breach of the peace occurred calling for their interference. During the evening a large number of placards denouncing in strong language the President, the North, and its advocates were posted in the neighborhood of the hall. POLITICAL. 543 FAREWELL TO HENRY WARD BEECHER ON LEAV- ING ENGLAND FOR AMERICA. On the 30tli of October, 1863, tlie Rev. Henry W^ard Beeclier was entertained by the members of the Liverpool Emancipation Society, at a public breakfast in the St. James' Hall, Lime Street, prior to his return to America the following day. A party of about 200 ladies and gentlemen sat down at ten o'clock to the repast. The chair was taken by Mr. C. Wilson, President of the Liverpool Emancipation Society, who delivered a warm and elo- quent address, at the conclusion of which Mr. C. E. Rawlins pre- sented to Mr. Beecher the followinir address : TO THE REV. HENRY WARD BEECHER, OF NEW YORK, U.S. After a brief sojourn in Europe — a short respite from ceaseless labors of philanthropy — you are returning to your country to resume those labois with renewed health and strength, and we trust a yet firmer faith in their ultimate success. Standing, as it were, on the very shores of the " old country," and in a town which is the last — and, perhaps, through its com- merce, the strongest — link in that chain which individually unites the interests of England and the United States, let us regard you as the representative of your countrymen, and take counsel to- gether ere we bid you farewell. There is no feeling more common on both sides of the Atlantic than pride in our common descent. Hardly a century has elapsed since you had no separate history from our own. Until then we were fellow-countrymen — united under the same crown, and claim- ing protection from the same Constitution. The same page recorded for us both all the glorious associations of the past — the same battles for national independence, and the same national struggles for civil and religious liberty. To this day we are shar- ing the inheritance of political freedom purchased by the blood of our ancestors. Better than all, we worship at the same altar, and reverence the same heroes of art, literature and science. With such recollections crowding upon us, let us this day pledge 544 HENRY WARD BEECHER. each other not only by the memories of the past, but our still more glorious hopes of the future, that, so far as in us lies, there shall be perpetual peace between England and the United States. Now, there are common principles which mark the genius — nay, which must be essential to the life and civilization of both nations alike, and which are not materially affected by our differing forms of Government. The latter are, in fact, but mere accidents of our national existence. On the one side we have an hereditary iminaichy and an hereditary House of Lords, around which entwines a loyalty to the crown of centuries. On the other hand, in a country where no feudal aristocracy had ever existed and no king ever reigned, you were obliged to make both your President and Higher Chamber elective. All otir other political and munici- pal institutions are the same. What, then, so closely assimilates the two nations in the hopes and fears, the present condition and future prospects of their civilization ? What but the love of freedom — freedom personal and national — which has always distinguished the Anglo-Saxon race above all others ? Subject to this higher law, both English- men and Americans hold all their institutions. We do not this morning trace the origin and progress of the institution which has been so sad an exception to the history of both nations. England some years ago wiped out the foul blot from her own Constitution, and it is now her proud boast that the foot of a slave can never press her soil. The peculiarities which distinguish a P'ederal Union of States previously independent have presented the same course with you. Slavery was found to be a State, not a national institution. All action thereon by the Federal power was excluded. But when the slaveholding States claimed to extend this institution not only to the territories but throughout the Union, the free spirit of the North was aroused, and in the Senate, in the House of Represent- atives, in the courts of justice, in the still higher courts of public opinion, but everywhere and on all occasions in a constitutional manner, they resisted the claim. They fought the battle of free- dom against slavery in Missouri, in Texas, and in the Supreme Court of the United States, and at length they succeeded in plac- ing in the Presidential chair a man who was equally pledged to the constitutional obligation not to interfere with slavery within the POLITICAL. 545 States themselves, and to his personal obligation to prevent its further extension. AVe clearly recognize the fact that the Secession of the Southern slaveholding States was declared by themselves to be because they had lost this power of extension ; that it was to maintain this un- constitutional Secession that the national flag was violated at Foit Sumter ; that the war which has resulted has been carried on by the Federal Government for the suppression of a rebellion and the maintenance of the national interests. But while deeply regret- ting the miseries thus occasioned, we rejoice with you that treason placed within the power of that Government what peace and order had denied to it ; and it is with reverential acknowledgment of that great Providence which still educes good from evil that we sympathize with you in those acts of the Legislature upon which is founded the glorious proclamation of freedom to slaves of rebel- lious States. AVe trust you may not fail in the self-sacrifice which may yet be needful ere that proclamation is realized. There is yet one other point on which we could speak with a lire-u<-<^ candor which no one can appreciate better than yourself. If the friendly relations of the two countries are to be main- tained unbroken in the future, it must be on the basis of mutual interests. A free interchange of commodities between them will soon annihilate the prejudices which still unworthily linger on both sides of the Atlantic. (Hear, hear, and cheers. ) As in the past we have noticed that the gradual relaxation of your protective tariff was breaking down the barriers between the two nations, so we attribute no small portion of the bitterness of our Southern sympathizers to those disturbances in our commerce which have resulted from your return to vicious principles of taxation. That this is a violation of the rights of the consumer, and opposed to the established laws of political economy, you have yourself ac- knowledged. Freedom of commerce with other nations is but an extension of freedom of production and interchange within our own. To pro- hibit it by high duties for the sake of protecting particular manu- factures by high prices is a robbery of the consumer. England has set a noble example of universal free-trade. She offers no exclusive privileges ; she asks no previous conditions. You have but to follow in her footsteps. You have not shinnk frojn the 546 HENEY WARD BEECHER. niigbty task of organizing the industry of 4,000,000 colored la- borers and 5,000,000 of whites. With equal courage, attempt the far easier task of reorganizing your system of taxation on the same basis of freedom. (Hear, hear.) Your immediate and primary duty is the suppression of a foul rebellion and the emancipation of the slave ; but we aie convinced that no single act could be more effective in securing and maintaining friendly relations be- tween our two nations than a thorough revision of your fiscal policy. Hundreds of thousands of our surplus population are every year emigrating to the United States. In future they will feel that every State, from Maine to Texas, and every rood of soil between the Atlantic and Pacific Oceans, may be a home for the free. When the electric chain shall again, as once it did, unite us, the first message that shall flash with lightning speed along its wires will be " Glory to God in the highest, peace and freedom to man on earth, without distinction of creed, or class, or color, to the end of time." MR. BEECHER'S FAREWELL ADDRESS. LIVERPOOL, OCTOBER 30, 1863. The Rev. H. W. Beecher, on rising to respond to the addresses, was received with enthusiastic cheers, which continued for some minutes. He said : Mr. Chairman, ladies and gentlemen, although this is a festive scene, it is rather with feelings of sad- ness 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 have to the full those sentiments of reverence and 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 alluded to by the Chairman on this occasion — if I bad already that preparation, how much, working on that predisposition, do you suppose has been the kindness, the good cheer, the helpfulness which 1 have received from more noble English hands and hearts I POLITICAL. 547 than I can name or even now remember. I have to thank them for almost everything, and I have almost nothing to regret in my personal intercourse with the English people ; for I am too old a navio-ator 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 bows and wetted the deck did not send me below whining and crying. (Hear, hear, and laughter.) It was a matter of course. I accepted it with good-nature at the time. 1 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 discord- ant notes I find some music. (Applause.) I had a thousand times rather 'that England should be so sensitive as to quarrel with me than that she should have been so torpid and dead as not to have responded at a stroke. (Cheers.) 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 I needed no such spur I shall accept the incitement of it to labor there for a better understanding and an abiding peace between these two great nations. (Hear, and cheers.) I know not what is before me — what criticijims 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 ray 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 in- fluence of England, I have not been as sturdy here in my blows as I was in my own land. (Laughter.) 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 — (laughter) — so here I have endeavored to know only that which made for truth first — love and peace next. (Cheers.) 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 Christian man or a patriot can contemplate — the welfare of two great allied nations. (Cheers.) I should have been foolish if I had left the things which made for peace and dug up the things that would have made ofEence. (Renewed cheers.) 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 England in this conflict. (Uear, hear.) I shall go 548 HENRY WARD BEECHER. back to represent to my own countrymen on fitting occasions what I have discovered of the reasons fur the recent antagonism of Eng- land to America. And 1 shall have to say primarily that the mouth and the tongue of England have been to a very great extent as were the mouth and the tongue of old of those poor wretches that were possessed of the devil, not in their own control. (Laughter and applause.) The institutions of England — for Eng- land is pre-eminently a nation of institutions — the institutions of England 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 institutions of the land. Now, it takes time for a great unorganized, and to a certain extent unvoting public opinion, underneath institutions, to create that grand swell that lifts the whole ark up —(hear, hear, and cheers) ; and so it will be my province to interpret to them that there may have been abun- dant, and various, and wide-spread utterances antagonistic to us, and yet that thoj might not have been the voices that represented, after all, the great heart of England. (Hear, hear, and applause.) But there is more than that. Rising higher than party feeling, endeavoring to stand upon some ground where men may be both Christians and philosophers, and looking upon the two 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 Great Britain, I should say — I mean Great Britain when I say England always (cheers) — Great Britain is herself undergoing a process of gradual internal change. (Hear, hear.) All living nations are undergoing such changes. No nation abides fixed in policy and fixed in institutions until it abides in death (hear, hear) ; for death only is immovable in this life, and life is a per- petual process of supply. Assimilation, excretion, change, and sensitiveness to the causes of change, are the marks of life. (Ap- plause.) 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. (Hear, hear, and cheering.) 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. POLITICAL. 549 difference, debate, antagonisms ; and change is the final stage be- fore which always lias been the great conflict, which conflict itself, 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. (Laughter and cheers.) 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 divided circles, and cliques, and all those aspects and phe- nomena which belong to healthy and national progress and change for progress. Now, it so came to pass that America too was un- dergoing 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 latter period, it at first ad- dressed England only by her senses ; for when the rebellion broke out and the tidings rolled across the ocean, everybody has said " England was for you" at first. (Hear, hear.) I believe so : because before 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 ray class ?" — and the churchman, " What will be the influence of these piin- ciples on my position ?" — and the various parties in Great Britain, " What will be the influence of American ideas, if they are in the ascendency, 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, although your anti-slavery feeling is hereditary and legendary, there was enough vitality in it, however feeble, to bring you on to the side of the North in the first in- stance. Much more would it have done, had it been a really liv- ing and quickening principle. It is said that up to the time of the trouble of the Trent, England was with us, 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 were a great many men and classes of men in England that feared the reactionary influences of American ideas upon the internal conflicts of England herself (liear, hear) ; and a gieat deal of the offence has arisen, not so much from any direct antagonism between Englishmen and Americans, as from the feeling of Eng- lishmen that the way to defend themselves at home was to fight I 550 HENRY WARD BEECHER. their battle in America (hear, hear) — and that tlierefore there has been this strange, this anomalous and ordinarily unexplained cause of the offence and of the ditRculties. 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, (Hear, hear.) But that was to be expected. We are not to suppose — it would be supreme egotism for an American to suppose — that the great mass of the English people should study American institutions and American policy and American history as they do their own ; and when to that natural unknowingness by one nation of the affairs of another are added the unscrupulousness and wonderfully active exertions of Southern emissaries here, who found men ready to be inoculated, and who compassed sea and land to make proselytes and then made them tenfold more the children of the devil than themselves (applause) — when these men began to propagate one- sided facts, suppressing — and suppression has been as vast a lie in England as falsification (hear, hear) — perpetually presenting every rumor, every telegram, and every despatch from the wrong point of view, and forgetting to correct it when the rest came (hear, hear) — finding, I say, these emissaries and these easy converts, the South has propagated an iminense amount of false information throughout England, we are to take this into account. But next consider the antagonisms which there arc supposed to be between the commercial interests of North America and of England. 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. (Hear, hear, and -laughter.) One book-store cannot do as much business in a town as two, because the rivalry creates demand. (Hear, hear.) 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. (Hear, hear.) Now, where in any street you collect one, five, ten, twenty book- sellers or dry-goods dealers, you attract customers to that point, and so far from being adverse to each other's welfare, men cluster- ing together in rivalry, in the long run and comprehensively con- sidered they are beneficial to each other. There are many men who always reason from their lower faculties, and refuse to see any questions except selfishly, enviously, jealously. POLITICAL. 551 It is so on both sides the sea. (Hear, hoar.) Such men will attempt always to foster rivalry 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. (Applause.) 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 but as the size of the hand compared with the cloud that belts the hemisphere. (Applause.) There is to be a resurrection of nations ; there is to be a civilization that shall bring up even that vast populous continent 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 supply required that may tax every loom and every spindle and every ship that England has or shall have when they are multiplied fourfold. (Applause.) Instead therefore of wast- ing energy, peace, and manhood, in miserable petty jealousies, trans-Atlantic or cis-Atlantic, the business of England, as of America, should be to strike those key-notes of 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. (Great cheering.) It has also been supposed that American ideas reacting will have a powerful 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 instruments 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 conserva- tive 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 lias been proved worthy, England will refuse to receive it, to givti it lu)usc-r(:)oin, and to make any changes that may be required for it ? (Ilear, hear.) If voting viva voce is best, fifty years hence you will be 552 HENRY WARD BEECIIER. found voting in that manner. If votino; by the ballot is best, fifty years hence you will have here what we have in America, th;; silent fall of those flakes of paper which come as snow comes, soundless, but which gather, as snow gathers on the tops of t)>e mountains, to roll with the thunder of the avalanche, and erusli all beneath it. (Loud applause.) But it is supposed that it may ex- tend 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 demand that monarchical government shall be conducted cheaply. (Hear, hear.) For men say, look at the civil list — look at the miUions of pounds sterling required to con- duct our government, and see 30,000,000 of men governed on that vast continent at not one tenth part of the expense. (Hear, hear.) 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 sec how it can be helped. (Hear, hear, and laughter.) 1 do not sa}- that our American example will react to the essential reconstruction of any principles in your edifice. I have not in my own mind the belief that it will do more than re-adapt your economy to a greater facility and to more beneficence in its application ; but that it wil- ever take the crown from the king's head, or change the organiza- tion of your aristocracy, I have not a thought. (Cheers.) It '■* no matter what iny own private opinion on the subject is. Did 1 live or had I been born and bred in England, I have no question that I should feel, just as 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 another 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 manliness, and true Christian piety ? (Loud and reiterated cheer- ing.) I say this neither as the advocate nor as the adversary of this particular form of government, but I say it simply because there is a latent feeling that American ideas are in natural antag- onism with aristocracy. They are not. American ideas are merely these — that the end of government is the benefit of the governed. (Hear, hear, and cheers.) If that idea is inconsistent with your form of government, how can that form expect to stand ? POLinCAL. 553 And if it only requires some slight readjiistraent from generation to generation, and if that idea is consistent with monarchy and aristocracy, why should you fear any change ? (Cheers.) I be- lieve that monarchy and aristocracy, as they are practically devel- oped in England, are abundantly consistent with the great doc- trine, that government is for the benefit of the governed. (Hear, hear.) There has also been a feeling that the free Church of America, while it might perhaps do in a rough-and-tumble enter- prise in the wilderness, 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. (Cheers.) For I hold, sturdy as you are, strong as your will is, persistent as you may be for whatever seems to you to be truth, you will have, first z' or last, to submit to God's truth. (Applause.) 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 American 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 opinions and manly sentiments. (Cheers.) 1 know of but one or two things that are necessary to expedite this final judgment of Eng- land, and that is, one or two conclusive Federal victories. (Ap- plause.) If I am not greatly mistaken, the convictions and opin- ions of England are like iron wedges ; but success is the sledge- hammer which drives in the wedge and splits the log. (Hear, hear, and cheers.) Nowhere in the world are people so apt to succeed in what they put their hand to as in England, and there- fore nowhere in the world more than in England is success hon- ored ; and the crowning thing for the North, in order to complete that returning sympathy and cordial good-will, is to obtain a thor- ough victory over the South. (Cheers.) There is nothing in the way of that but the thing itself. (Laughter and cheers.) Allow Mie to say, therefore, just at this point and in that regard, that, while looking at it commercially, and while looking at it senti- 554 HENRY WARD BEECIIER. mentally, 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 to 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 proc- ess 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 so good a schoolmaster 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 this world. Now, every single month from this time forward that this struggle is delayed, unites the North — brings the North on to that ground which so many have struggled to avoid : " Union and peace require the utter de- struction of slavery." (Loud cheering.) There is an old proverb, "There's luck in leisure." Let me transmute the proverb, and say, "There is emancipation in delay." (Loud cheers.) And every human heart, yea, every commercial man that takes any comprehensive and long-sigUted instead of a narrow view of tlie question, will say, " Let the war thus linger, until it has burned slaverj' to the very root." (Renewed cheers.) While it is, how- ever, a great evil and a terrible one — I will not disguise 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 ad- vantages. 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 servants as war, work out a great moral result. The spirit of patriotism diffused throughout the North has been almost like the resurrection of manhood. (Cheers.) You never can understand what emascula- tion has been caused by the indirect influence of slavery. (Hear, hear.) I have mourned all my mature life to see men growing up who were obliged to suppress all true conviction and sentiment, because it was necessary to compromise between the great antag- onisms of North and South. There were the few pronounced POLITICAL. 555 anti-slavery men of the North, and the few pronounced slavery men of the South, and the Union lovers (as they were called dur- ing 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- 1 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. (Great cheering.) 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 picsonce of hisses and execrations, held this doctrine from 1850 to 1S60 — namely, " Union is good if it is for justice and libert}'^ ; but if it is Union for slavery, then it is thrice accursed." (Loud cheer- ing.) For they were attempting to lasso anti-slavery men by this word '' Union," and to draw them over to pro-slavery synipathies 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." (Cheers.) Now we have passed out of that period, and it is astonishing to see how men have come to their tongues in the North (hear, hear, and laughter), and how men of the highest accomplishments now say they do not believe in slavery. If Mr. Everett could have pro- nounced in 1850 the oration which he pronounced in I860, then might miracles have flourished again. (Hear, hear.) 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. (Great cheer- ing.) More than warehouses, more than ships, more than all har- vests and every material form of wealth, is the treasure of a nation in the manhood of her men. (Great applause.) We could have afforded to have had our stores of wheat burned — there is wheat to plant again. We could have afforded to have had 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 556 HENRY WARD BEECHER. 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 destruction of the mere outside fabric is nothing — nothing (cheers) — but give me apartments of gold, and build me palaces along the streets as thick as the shops of London ; give me rich harvests and ships and all the elements of wealth, but corrupt the citizen, and I am poor. (Immense cheer- ing, during which the audience rose, and enthusiastically reiterated the applause.) 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. [Here the speaker manifested considerable emotion.] 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 prospeiity in time to come, flung themselves into their country's cause, and died bravely fighting for it. (Cheers.) And every such name has become a name of power, and whoever hears it hereafter shall feel a thrill in his heait — self-devotion, heroic patriotism, love of liis kind, love of liberty, love of God. (Re- newed applause.) 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 oiatory 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. (Hear, and cheers.) I know my friend Punch thinks I have been serving out "soothing syrup'' to the British Lion. (Laughter.) Very properly the picture represents me as putting a spoon into the lion's ear instead of his mouth ; and I don't wonder that the ^•reat brute turns away so sternly from the plan of feeding. (Laughter.) If it be an offence to have sought to enter your mind by your nobler sentiments and nobler faculties, then I am guilty. (Hear, hear, and cheers.) 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 common-sense would have attempted the same POLITICAL. 557 thing. I have sacrificed nothing, however, for the sake of your favor (cheers), and if you have permitted me to have any influ- ence with you, it was because I stood apparently a man of strong- convictions, but with generous impulses as well. It was because you believed that I was honest in my belief, and because I was kind in my feelings toward you. (Applause.) And now when I go back home I shall be just as faithful with our " youno- folks" as I have been \Vith the " old folks" in England (hear, hear, and cheers), I shall tell them the same things that I have said to their ancestors on this side. I shall plead for Union, for confidence. (Cheers.) 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 perpetual cleansing, a perpetual wine of strength and 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 fulfil- ment together, that, " The earth shall be the Lord's, and that his glory shall fill it as the waters fill the sea." (Loud and prolonged cheering.) And now my hours are moments, but I linger because it is pleasant. You have made yourselves so kind to me that my heart clings to you. I leave not strangers any longer — I leave friends behind me. (Loud cheers.) 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. (Cheers.) Three thousand miles is not as wide now as your hand. The air is one great sounding gallery. 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 were, but a rivulet, we shall stretch out hands of greeting to you, and speak words of peace and fraternal love. Let us not 34 558 HENRY WARD BEECHER. 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 ! (The reverend gentleman resumed his seat amid enthusiastic applause.) A Man of Many Moods. DESCRIPTIVE. THE ALPS.* Our first glimpse of Mont Blanc was at Gereva, as the sun was going down, on the 30th of July. It appeared on the hori- zon as a pale and faint dome, looking like tb; very dream of a cloud. I cannot tell you why such a feeble vision should have such a power. But in a moment 1 ceased talking, and gazed as if I had seen a spirit rising from the other world with messages of solemn import. There was an inexpressible yearning toward it, and a strange tenderness as if I had all my life sought some secret that was now coming toward me. The moon soon arose, and the vision departed. Too ranch light extinguished it. There are many things, both of this world and of the other, that are best seen in twilights, but refuse to appear when the eye is full of glaring light. On Friday we left Geneva early for Chamounix. Our next glimpse of Mont Blanc was had at St. Martin, near Sallanches, where we stopped for a morning. I crossed the bridge, and laid down on the grass under some Lorabardy poplars that lined the road. Over against me was the renowned range of Mont Blanc, but not to be fully seen. Clouds had gathered about it, soft, round-edged, luminous, ever-changing. Within that glowing pavilion the Wliite King dwelt. Parts only gleamed forth for a moment — now the lower portion, then a flank, once or twice the summit alone. But after waiting as long as we could, we had been but tantalized with the reserved and capricious mountain. All the afternoon we clomb hills, and when we began to descend into the valley, the sun was filling the upper portion with liglit, * Keprinted from the N. Y. Independent, 1863. 563 HENRY WARD BEEIHER. while the plain was already gathering twilight. Now began to appear the glaciers that came down in every valley from the range. Only that most beautiful of all, Bosson, made any impression on my eye. The valley varies in width from half a mile to a mile ; and for about twelve miles is flanked on the one side by the Mont Blanc range, and on the other by a parallel but subordinate range. You must not imagine the rounded forms of mountains such as prevail in America. The line of the summit is splintered, jagged, toothed, even more than the seemingly most exaggerated cuts and pictures have represented it, and long declining ridges come down toward the valley, like ribs, except at the very lower portions. uncovered with trees or grass. We turned from the door of the hotel, and looked up through the cool evening air right upon the whole summit of Mont Blanc ! It lay calmly revealed, without cloud or vapor. Against the gray-blue of the sky it rested, glowing white, with the sun which had left us below in twilight, pouring full upon it in radiant tranquillity ! And yet we were disappointed ! There was no enthusiasm, no yearning, no sense of wonder, very little even of beauty. The distance seemed but little and the mountain small. AVe were too near it. There was not only the want of perspective, but we had nothing to compare it with and could see none of its relations to surrounding mountains. It was a brilliant snow-dome with its grand glacier, Bosson, like a hoary beard, stretching down to the very plain ; but yet it was near, not magnitudinous. By no reasoning or comparison or effort could we excite in ourselves an adequate sense of size or distance. How different from this was our experi- ence of the Jungfrau ! Our Sabbath at Interlachen was one of rain and clouds. The evening before, we had seen this most beautiful of Swiss snow mountains in part ; for clouds were busy coming and going. It was a great disappointment, the next day, to see nothing. The whole was obliterated. A dull, spiritless, gray drizzle occupied the day tediously. Our courier was to waken us early should there be prospect of clearing. At four he rapped on the door. Out of the window we saw clouds, but broken, rapidly travelling, and in new directions. The wind had changed. We soon were on our way to Lauterbrunnen. The Staubbach Fall did not disappoint us, nor interest us. It is a mere track of mist marking the face of the cliff. In some moods and DESCRIPTIVE. 5G3 in certain lights it would be beautiful. But it is tbin and feeble. We crossed the Wangern Alp, and at noon found ourselves in front of Jungfrau. Clouds still clung to one and another part of it, radiant, fleecy, ever-changing clouds, that seemed moved by the rapid flying of spirits within. Here we first heard the distant roar of avalanches. It may be likened to distant thunder. But we have heard a wagon passing a bridge sound like both of them. We detected one or two in their flight. Some one cries, " There's one !" — all look ! all see a very filmy and smoky trace upon the side of the mountain. That is all. To one in their track they are no doubt suSiciently terrible. But at this distance they are sublime only by what the imagination lends them. My imagina- tion bad always pictured so grand a spectacle that it refused to work in the presence of these little whiffets of snow-dust. But midsummer avalanches are neither the large nor the dangerous ones. They are only masses of ice and snow breaking off, as glaciers or snow deposits, moving to the edge of precipices, are melted in the midday heat, and break off in masses of moderate size. The winter and spring avalanches — when the overburdened mountains can hold no more snow, and the mass slides down, collecting as it goes, plunges into the valleys vast and immeasur- able stores — are both sublime and terrible ! We went on over the little Scheideck, and upon the summit gained the first full and glorious view of Jungfrau and its com- panion Monch, Eiger, and Wetterhorn. I shall never forget that hour. I knew then, first and surely, that John's vision, the Great White Throne was no magnification of an earthly king's chair of state. A snow-mountain, long hid in mysterious clouds, at length disclosing itself, and standing apart from all earthly things, far up against the everlasting sky, brings near the soul the reality of God, of the city to be revealed ; and nothing else less than the grandeur of this ethereal summit, alone, in transparent ether, blazing with sunlight, amid solemn silence, could afford a fit symbol of that decending Throne which filled the apocalyptic vision ! An afternoon ride back to Interlachen, in the golden sunlight, or through the cool shadows of the mountains, along the side of the valley, was full of dreaming rest and gladness. As we drew 564 HENRi' WAED BEECHER. near to Interlachen, Jungfi-au, with the setting sun sliining full upon it, rose up from behind us with a beauty so exquisite that I felt drawn to it more as to a human being than to a snow- covered rock ! I stood up in the carriage, and as the road wound round among orchards and fields, it was lost, or flashed forth again ; was hidden only to gleam forth with pure white again. And so it played with me as a mother with her child — hiding her face and showing it alternately, to the babe's infinite delight ! And all the evening I sat upon the veranda, looking at that vision, on which the sun went down, long after he had left us ; on which the moon rose, shedding all over it a glory beyond that of the day, ineffably transcendent ' Between the two great hither mountains this enchantress rose — two green mountains the only frame in wliich such a glorious picture could be fitly set. It was not wonderful, then, that Mont Blanc disappointed me, though it was thousands of feet higher than the Jungfrau. We had no distance. It was as if one should be brought close up to an oil-painting. The exceeding clearness of mountain air put all our reckoning at fault. To the summit it seemed a mile ; scarcely more. It was, as the crow flies, ten or twelve ! The eye thought that it could see any feature of the summit, so near and so clear was it. And yet, in the full morning light we knew that two parties were ascending the dome, in all some twelve, and yet not the slightest trace of them could the unaided eye detect. A fine opera-glass was tried, but it could raise nothing. Yet, when we took a powerful telescope, forth came the party, like so many little black ants crawling up upon a white wall. The glory is departed from Mont Blanc as a mountain of ascent. It is done now by scores every summer, and by women even. It is no longer reckoned a wonder. Indeed since the English have taken to the Alps as their favorite summer resort, and the Alpine Club have raised the ambition of bold and tough young men. there is scarcely anything left in Switzerland that is not ascended. The magnificent and solitary column of Wetterhorn has not yet felt the foot of man, though he has reached within two hundred feet of it, and will inevitably reach the summit of it ! A price is put upon the head of the difiRcult mountains. A party returned with ill^success from Aiguillevert, I believe it was, failing to earn the DESCRIPTIVE. 565 five thousand francs offered to any one who would plant a flag upon its summit ! Formerly to ascend Mont Blanc was a work of extraordinary renown. Four or five guides and as many porters were required, and ample provisions. But a young Englishman from Coventry reached the summit, while we were at Chamounix, with only a single guide. Just hehind him all the way up was a German military gentleman with ten guides and porters. But our brave young Englishman led them all the way. Now, when he came down, no cannon were fired, and no parade made. The officer's return set the valley booming with cannon and echoes. It had cost the Englishman about twenty dollars to do his work. The oflScer spent three or four hundred. Not what you do but what you spend determines the honors heaped upon you at Chamounix. We left the valley by the Col de Balme. Only when we had reached this height and distance did we begin to take the full measure of Mont Blanc. The whole range is before you. Now the dome seems highest, which before we only knew to be. I stood long upon the summits of this pass. On the west lay the whole valley of Chamounix and the range of Mont Blanc ; on the east the Oberland Alps, like a line of giants, plumed with white. I leave the company at the chalet, and climb, by myself, to a solitary point of outlook. I will not weary you with descriptions, which at best must be shadowy, serving rather to renew the memory of those who have seen these glories than to excite any clear apprehension in those who have not. For we always meas- ure and imagine unknown things by a comparison with things known. Now, there is nothing in all Eastern America that can serve as a model of Switzerland. Its mountains are original, peculiar to itself, and their likeness is not reproduced upon our continent, unless it be among the Rocky Mountains. PHILOSOPHICAL. EVOLUTION AND REVOLUTION.* On Saturday evening, January 6th, 1883, Mr. Beecher gave in Cooper Union his new lecture on Evohition and Revolution. Half an hour before the time for the lecture to begin the hall was so full that the police closed the doors and allowed no more to enter. Mr. Beecher spoke substantially as follows : A greater change has taken place within the last thirty years, probably, than ever took place in any former period of five hundred' consecutive years. It has been a revolution ; and yet the revolutionary tendencies of the doctrine of evolution are more in seeming than in fact, and, though extremely radical, are radical in the right direction, and are of the right kind. As con- tradistinguished from the old notion of creation by the instantaneous obedience of matter to the divine command, it is the teaching of the divine method of creation as gradual, and as the result of steadily acting natural laws through long periods of time — periods so long that not even the imagination can stretch to the border- land of their far-off horizon. We have been brought up largely to found our notions of creation upon the poetic expressions of sacred Scripture. The command, " God said, Let there be light ; and there was light," is sublime poetr3^ We felt as if God came to the fore-front on the creating day, and said, " Let there be light," and instantly there was light. This was the almost universally prevalent impression. But it has now been sufficiently demonstrated that the divine method of creation was utterly different from this ; that it was a creation beginning with the very smallest elements * Reprinted from Tfie Christian Union. PHILOSOPHICAL. 567 —elements inconceivably small— and then, gradually, tlirough the force of divinely ordained natural laws, unfolding- Jittle by little the whole terraqueous globe. This, in short, is the theory of evolution. While there are may divergencies among scientific men as to details, there is absolutely no difference of opinion as to the general application of this doctrine to the formation of the globe, of the vegetable kingdom, and of the animal kingdom— until yon come up to man. When we come to that point, were it not for the fear which good men entertain of the effect of such a doctrine, I suppose that it would be thought that man himself has been unfolded from the lower forms into the human form, and with human intelligence. ^ If this conception of his origin were to throw out the idea of divine creation from it, it would be repugnant^ But it does not involve any such consequences. There are three classes of evo- lutionists when you look at them in reference to moral questions —the atheistic, of which class Mr. Ilaeckel, of Germany, is a very able exponent ; the agnostic, to which class most of the eminent English physicists belong ; and the theistic, or Christian evolution- ists. There is a difference among them as to what were those influences which determined the variations, and that discussion, though tending to a closure, is not yet entirely settled. But when we come to man, the Christian philosopher takes his stand, and says that there were superadded to natural forces certain direct influences that conduced to the formation of the human mind. The doctrine of evolution, in these various forms, is the philos- ophy by which ninety-nine per cent of the scientific investio-ators of our time are working. It is gradually spreading to all depart- ments of effort. Its nomenclature and its thought are getting into the schools and the newspapers. The attempt to suppress it will fail. The old folly of throwing the Bible at it ought not in our day to be repeated. They threw the Bible at the sun and the moon once, and it came back on their heads, and astronomy stands. They threw the Bible at geologv, and geoloiry stands Let not the folly be repeated of throwing the Bible at the origin of man. I am not prepared to say that I believe man came from the lower animals, but I am prepared to say that if he did it will afford explanation of many difficulties for which I can find no 5G8 HENRY WARD BEECHER. solution anywhere else. As yet it is a hypothesis, and the process of procedure with a hypothesis is to see if it will give a solution of all diflBculties, and give a better solution of them than any other theory. That is what I think evolution does. Look, for a moment, at the relation which it sustains to the almost universal belief in the existence and agency of a supreme intelligence. There are many who say that this notion of evolu- tion is the product of atheism and that it will lead to atheism. I need not say that I believe in the existence and the agency of a divine, omnipotent, omnipresent God. With all my heart, and all my soul, and all my mind, and all my strength, I believe in Him. The scientific man tells me that it is not possible to prove the existence of God. And I say the same — but on the same ground that I should say to a man who should bring me a pair of scales and ask me to weigh the smell of the rose, " Not by those scales can I weigh it." There are other methods by which I could indicate the existence of the perfume. The hypothesis of the existence of God leads a man through fewer difficulties and solves more questions than atheism ever did or ever could. But the highest proof of the existence of God is moral intuition. A thousand men may go past a magnificent picture and yet think there is nothing in the color. An artist comes past and it blazes with sup- pressed color to him. These men turn and say to him, " Well, prove the color. We are as good as you are. We don't see it." " Don't you wish you did ? It is there, and I see it and thrill with the feeling of it. If you say you don't, that merely char- acterizes where you stand." Now, it is given to highly organized moral natures to have a sense, a luminous incoming conviction, of the existence of God ; to feel it as plainly as one feels the balmy spring air and knows that it is spring, and not winter, without his almanac. A man may be an atheist and be an evolutionist ; but a man may be an evolutionist and believe in God with all his heart and strength and soul. The agnostic says : " We don't know it." But they mean by that they don't know it as they know inferior facts. We know it as we know the highest and noblest truths of human life. The interpreting power of the highest development of human conscience is far greater than most men have ever dreamed. Many men say, "Admit that there is an atheistic ground on PHILOSOPHICAL. 569 which we can stand ; what, is going to be the influence of this doctrine of evolution upon sacred Scriptures ?" Very beneficial. It is going to correct the absurd uses to which that book has been for so many ages condemned. The Bible itself is a most wonderful evolution. What other book ever was there that it took probably more than ten thousand years to write ? Mr. Ingersoll's whole pivotal power is the fact that among so large a number of men there has been an impression that everything in the Bible has been derived directly from God. What is the Bible ? The Bible is an encyclopaedia of history, describing what has been the course of progress down to the present time ; and to pick out here and there an absurdity and then say, " There is your God telling* folks to do so and so " — how foolish, how wicked it is, except as- an answer to men that believe in plenary and verbal inspiration. But there is no other such record on the face of the earth, nor has any other nation, except the Israelite nation and the sequent nations, down to the present day, had any such history or any such unfolding of the process by which meii rose from the lov/est stages of animalism and came to the effulgence of modern civilization. And remember that from the beginning to the end of this book you cannot find one single, solitary syllable in favor of oppression. All of the oldest of the Old Testament is in favor of the working- man. There is no more humanity than that in the institutes of Moses. One would be astonished to see how far in many respects it is ahead of the practical morality of our day. All the way down through the singers and prophets of the Old Testament, the Bible is a thunderbolt of denunciation against wrong. There never has been a modern nation that was oppressed by creeds, driven out from home, wronged by priestcraft and civil tyranny, that did not take refuge in the Old Testament, because the whole spirit of it, with trumpet tones, was marshalled like a man-of-war against all evil and all oppression for humanity and for kindness of love. And you come down to the New Testament, and you find there the very charter of the rights of the weak and of those liable to be despoiled, as nowhere else you can. For look at one single passage of the Master in the pictorial parable in which he gathers all nations of the earth to judgment. To one he said, " Come," and to the other, "Depart," and the law that determined that 570 HENRY WARD BEECHER. was the law of love. lie says to them, " I was sick, I was op- pressed, I was hungry, thirsty, naked, and a stranger, and ye came and ministered to me ;" and they with wonderful surprise say to him, " When did we ever see this man naked, forsaken, or in prison, and came to him ?" The crowd around him was made of lepers, thieves, lazzaroni, harlots, poor miserable creatures, and he said, " Inasmuch as ye have done it to one of the least of these, ye have done it to me." When God would testify what his sense of the value of humanity is he does not take the advanced and unfolded ; he does not take the man nursed in regal power ; he does not take the one foremost in statesmanship ; he goes down so low that there is nothing below it, and takes the poorest and meanest ; not that he is good, but bad as he is there are a sacredness and sanctity in him that no man should dare to harm or even to neglect him. And if that is the value that is put upon humanity, the poor, the oppressed, the laboring, are the last men that should suffer the torch to be thrown into the temple of their faith in regard to the sanctity of the Word of God ; it is the poor man's shield ; the poor man's port of refuge. It places him at his highest value, by the judgment of him who judges man not by what he is in this world, but by what he is to become in a better soil and a finer clime, when he will have another chance for development. This doctrine of the descent of man from an inferior race throws light on the question of the origin of sin and evil. The lion is not guilty of murder when he kills. He violates no restraint, because that is what he was made for. Look at his claws. The wolf was made to be a wolf, and a fox a fox. You might as well find fault with granite for being hard, or with clay for being soft, as with the animal creation for having the quali- ties of their nature. To them was given no reason, no moral, sense, no sense of beauty, of taste, of imagination — nothing but to feed themselves, to propagate their species, and then die. Now, man in his early history was an animal, but superinduced upon his animal nature was the moral sense. Here is the line between instinct and moral consciousness. The moment that came in, then the question was. Which shall rule — the animal sense or the higher sense ? That struggle is going on to-day with every man. There is not a man anywhere who does not feel day by day, in the battle of life, that his purposes are better than his acts. It is PHILOSOPHICAL. 571 a conflict between the upper man and the under man that consti- tutes the great bulk of sinfuhiess ; and there you have a theory that throws light upon a whole field that has hitherto been shrouded not merely in twilight but in impenetrable darkness. Of course, beyond this point there are a great many nice ques- tions as to the nature of sin — the voluntary doing of that which a man knows to be wrong. These are questions of profound importance but do not belong exactly to the topic of the lecture this evening. Men say, *' If this doctrine be true, whf*t light will it throw on the struggling questions of to-day ; on the endless strife and endeavor to equalize the conditions of men ?" Evolution throws light on that also. There are various schemes for the reorgan- ization of society — to equalize weakness and strength. That is not nature, and nature will not tolerate it. We cannot equalize weakness and strength of brain. If man has a little brain he must be a little man, and if he has a large brain lie must be a large man. Such a partnership as that the strong shall care for the weak is an ideal which is Christian and beautiful. But you can't make an unthinking man equal to a thinking man. You can't make a spendthrift equal to an economical man. Men are essen- tially different in their composition, and nature sifts and riddles everything from the lowest t' the highest, and always in the direction of increasing strength, sacrificing the relative imperfection, throwing it away, and from generation to generation advancing, that by and by the average strength may be vastly increased. You can never baffle that great law of nature that makes two twice as much as one ; that makes four twice as much as two ; that makes a man all through five times as great as a man that is only half a man. With all your schemes of benevolence — they are very benevolent, and ofttimes very noble and effecting great good — you cannot touch bottom until you get to this law ; that the human mind determines the condition of a man and his worth everywhere. He who is strong not in physical strength, but in mind and moral strength, is the highest ; and if there are many of them that class is the highest, and you cannot by any boosting, or by any method of screws, or adjustment, make the under equal to the upper under such circumstances ; and the way out from poverty and insignificance and all the miserable experiences of 572 HENRY WARD BEECHER. iindercast men is : Go np yourself, and your affairs will come up after you ; development, education, more brain, better brain. The elevation of mankind in moral and intellectual culture is tlie only way to cure the evils of society. Men say, " Well, if the doctrine of evolution is true, your churches are all cut up by the roots." I beg your pardon ; theol- ogy is going to be — no doubt about that. I shall not mourn it. All my early days were spent in the West, in that State populous with trees, Indiana, and there we never could raise a good crop fit for human food until we had cut the trees off. Theology looks to me like a thicket in the forest, and as soon as we can get a good deal of it open to the air we will plant better theology and have better crops. But it does not touch the question of churches. The churches are a manifold organization. All claims to be inheritors of the whole authority of God, of course, will gradually pass away. It is not necessary for me to go back to the Apostles to find out that I was ordained to preach ; I found that out when I preached and found folks wanted to hear me. The churches are schools of moral culture. They are authorita- tive, apostolic and divine when they succeed in producing moral culture ; and the great majority of the churches of all denomina- tions are doing it, for they generally leave off their theology. They have to run into the block-house, as the old settlers did, when their theology is attacked. Then they have to go in and fight for it. What are the churches doing ? They are going after faraiHes ; teaching men how to bring up their children ; organiz- ing for benev^olence ; endeavoring to carry out the basic princi- ples of the doctrines of Christ and to introduce them in all matters, manners and customs in the whole community. That is their business. It is a grand business. I would not have one church less ; I would multiply the whole. And as to the ques- tion of ordinance, well, let every one have si;ch ordinance as he wants. One man wants to sharpen his scythe on a grindstone ; another wants to sharpen his on a whetstone ; and they have a quarrel, and one says the divine way of sharpening a scythe is with a whetstone, and the other says no, it is with a grindstone. I say it doesn't make any difference if the scythe is sharp. The churches that mollify the manners, cure the prejudices, extract the poison of hatred and bring men together, and not separate them, PHILOSOPHICAL. 573 produce concord, sympathy, mutucal love, and helpfulness, are divine institutions. Their works are divine not because they have, any of them, any charter, or any of them any link or title which goes up out of sight and then, they say, is hitched on to the train of one of the Apostles. Many a ship throws over its deck-load in order to reach the harbor. Many churches will jret along better if they don't undertake to meddle with creeds and the current theologies of the time. The whole theory of morals is to be profoundly advantaged, I think, by the question of evolution. Of course just now there is a great deal of thinking, and more or less comparison of thought, on the principle of an amicable adjustment of controversies as respects the origin of morals ; but one thing is very certain, and that is that the human race is unfolding in the direction of reason and moral sense and affectionate sense. The essential truths of God run down and throw their roots into the great natural laws. For every great precept, every essential, practical doctrine, it is better for the world that we should be able to say that it stands, not on the authority of the priest, nor even on the authority of experi- ence, but that it stands rooted in nature itself. If we cast off intolerable superstitions, year after year, influences will work with the very seasons in favor of virtue and of a true religion, I thank God, therefore, for the growing light and power of the great doctrine of Christian Evolution. AGRICULTURAL. POLITICAL ECONOMY OF THE APPLE. [In the Hudson River, nearly opposite Peekskill, and in the very jaws of the " Race " (as the narrow passage through the Highlands is called), there is a small, rocky island, by the name of loNA. The name was borrowed from across the water, by Dr. C. W. Grant's father-in-law, who owned this gem — for gem it was and is for those who love rocks, glades, fine old trees, and absolute seclusion. But who ever would have thought of such a place for vine- yards ? Yet, lona became the very Jerusalem of grape-vines. Dr. C. W. Grant, formerly of Newburg, purchased the island, and, adopting the then new grape — the Delaware — commenced propagating it for commercial purposes. It may be fairly said that no man in America ever gave to grape culture a greater impulse than Dr. Grant. Abundant sales at length brought in abundant revenues. But his ideas expanded with his means, and outran them. The island was to become another Paradise. Here the magnolia was to be propagated in such numbers that every man in America could have it in his yard, holding white cups filled with perfume to his windows. The rhododendron was to be sent forth to every farm. New grapes were originated. Every year developed its own marvel. But whether it was pear, Downing's mulberry, grape, or ornamental tree, the good democratic heart of Dr. Grant intended no narrower field than the continent. Men were to be raised to a higher level by familiarity with better and better grapes. The taste was to be refined. Every creature under the western heavens was to sit under his own grape-vine, and not under one alone, but a whole vineyard of them. Health failed. Business got tangled. The kind doctor sold out. He is gone from his vineyards. The island remains. One of these days, in the hands of some one who unites taste and thrift with abundant means, it will become a marvel of heauty. But it will hardly have a pleasanter day than when, in 1864, were gathered there two or three score or more of ladies and gentlemen AGRICULTURAL. 575 —not a few of them famous in art, in literature, in music, in pomology, and in sanguine plans of fruit culture— for a good time. Among the contributions to the general amusement, I was appointed Orator to discourse upon " The Apple," and the address was to have been published, together with minutes of the proceed- ings, other speeches, and various interesting matter. But years passed on without progress toward publication. What has become of other things I know not, but this apple-talk has been hshed up and saved. I fear it will never again be as fresh or as powerful as in its first estate. For there now hangs upon my cellar wall a huge pan, lacking but a few inches of three feet in diameter, upon which the ladies who had heard the address established and perfected an apple-pie- sent to me for New Year's Day of 1865— of so rare a spirit that every one of the hundreds who tasted it declared it to be as good as it was large. Alas ! the pan remains, and the poetry which came singing its merits ; but the pie— where is it ? So, too, the island of the Hudson stands secure ; but where are the joyous people that thronged it on that autumn day ?] THE ADDRESS. I am to discourse of the apple to an audience, many of whom know much more about it than I do, and all of them full as much. It does not, on that account, follow that I should not speak. What a terrible blow would fall upon all professions if a teacher should be forbidden to speak upon things of which he knew nothing, and to an audience who knew more about them than he ! One large part of the duty of a teacher is to remind his hearers of how much they know, and tempt them to a better use of their knowledge. Instruction is one thing, and important in its place ; t)ut the inspiration of men to a good use of the thino-s that they already know is far more needed. While the character of the ladies and gentlemen present makes it proper for me to hide, with due modesty, my knowledge of the apple in the department of culture, there is what may be called the Political Economy of the Apple, by which I mean the apple in its relation to domestic comfort and commerce ; and on that sub- ject I think I can speak, if not to edification, at least without fear of being tracked and cornered. The apple is, beyond all question, i/ie American fruit. It stands absolutely alone and unapproachable, grapes notwithstanding. Originating in another hemisphere, neither in its own country nor 576 HENRY WARD BEECHER. in any other to which it has been introduced has it flourished as in America. It is conceded in Europe that, for size, soundness, flavor, and brilliancy of coloring, the American apple stands first — a long way first. But it is American in another sense. This is a land in which diffusion is the great law. This arises from our institutions, and from the character which they have imprinted upon our people. In Europe, certain classes, having by their intelligence and wealth and influence the power to attract all things to themselves, set the current from the centre toward the surface. In America, the simple doctrines that the common people are the true source of political power, that the government is directly responsible to them, and therefore that moral culture, intelligence, and training in politics are indispensable to the common people, on whom every state is to rest safely, have wrought out such results that in all departments of justice and truth, as much as in politics, there is a tendency toward the popularizing of everything, and learning, or art, or any department of culture, is made to feel the need of popularity ; a word which is very much despised by classicists, but which may be used in a sense so large as to make it respect- able again. Things that reach after the universal, that include in them all men in their better and nobler nature, are in a proper sense popular ; and in this country, amusement and refinement and wealth itself, first or last, are obliged to do homage to the common people, and so to be popular. Nor is it otherwise in respect to horticulture. Of fruits, I think this, above all others, may be called the true democratic fruit. There is some democ- racy that I think must have sprung from the first apple. Of all fruits, no other can pretend to vie with the apple as the fruit of the common people. This arises from the nature of the tree and from the nature of the fruit. First, as to the tree. It is so easy of propagation, that any man who is capable of learning how to raise a crop of corn can learn how to plant, graft or bud, transplant, and prune an apple- tree — and then eat the apples. It is a thoroughly healthy and hardy tree : and that under more conditions and under greater varieties of stress than perhaps any other tree. It is neither dainty nor dyspeptic. It can bear high feeding and put up with low feeding. It is not subject to gout and scrofula, as plums are ; AGRICULTURAL. 577 to eruptions and ruptures, as the cherry is ; or to apoplexy, as the pear is. The apple-tree may be pampered, and may be rendered effeminate in a degree ; but this is by artificial perversion. It is naturally tough as an Indian, patient as an ox, and fruitful as the Jewish Rachel. The apple-tree is among trees what the cow is among domestic animals in northern zones, or what the camel of the Bedouin is. And, like all thoroughly good-natured, obliging, patient things, it is homely. For beauty is generally unfavorable to good dispositions. (I am talking to the ladies now.) There seems to be some dissent ; but this is the orthodox view. It seems as if the evil incident to human nature had struck in, with handsome people, leaving the surface fair ; while the homely are so because the virtue within has purged and expelled the evil, and driven it to the skin. Have you never seen a maiden that lovers avoided because she was not comely, who became, nevertheless, and perhaps on that account, the good angel of the house, the natural intercessor for afflicted children, the one to stay with the lonely when all the gay had gone a-gadding after pleasure, the soft- handed nurse, the story-teller and the book-reader to the whole brood of eager eyes and hungry ears in the nursery ; in short, the child's ideal of endless good-nature, self-sacrifice, and inter- cessorship, the Virgin Mary of the household— mother of God to their love, in that she brings down to them the brightest concep- tions of what God may peradventure be ? And yet, such are stio-. matized old maids, though more fruitful of everything that is good (except children) than all others. One fault only do we find with them — that they are in danger of perverting our taste and leading us to call homeliness beautiful. All this digression, laiiies and gentlemen, is on account of my dear Aunt Esther, who brought me up — a woman so good and modest that she will spend ages in heaven wondering how it happened that she ever got there, and that the angels will always be wondering why she was not there from all eternity. I have said, with some digressions, that the apple-tree is homely ; but it is also hardy,and not only in respect to climate. It is almost indifferent to soil and exposure. We should as soon think of coddling an oak-tree or a chestnut ; we should as soon think of shielding from the winter, white pine or hemlock, as an 35 578 HENRY WARD BEECHER. apple-trec. If there is a lot too steep for the plough or too rocky for tools, the farmer dedicates it to an apple orchard. Nor do the trees betray his trust. Yet, the apple loves the meadows. It will thrive in sandy loams, and adapt itself to the toughest clay. It will bear as much dryness as a mullein-stalk, and as much wet almost as a willow. In short, it is a genuine democrat. It can be poor, while it loves to be rich ; it can be plain, although it prefers to be ornate ; it can be neglected, notwithstanding it wel- comes attention. But, whether neglected, abused, or abandoned, it is able to take care of itself, and to be fruitful of excellences. That is what I call being democratic. The apple-tree is the common people's tree, moreover, because it is the child of every latitude and every longitude on this conti- nent. It will grow in Canada and Maine. It will thrive in Florida and Mexico. It does well on the Atlantic slope ; and on the Pacific the apple is portentous. Newton sat in an orchard, and an apple, plumping down on his head, started a train of thought which opened the heavens to us. Had it been in Cali- fornia the size of the apples there would have saved him the trouble of much thinking thereafter, perhaps, opening the heavens to him, and not to us. Wherever Indian corn will grow, the apple will thrive ; and wherever timothy-grass will ripen its seed, the apple will exist fruitfully. Nor is the tree unworthy of special mention on account of health and longevity. It is subject to fewer diseases than almost any tree of our country. Th6 worms that infest it are more easily destroyed than those upon the currant or the rose. The leaf is subject to blight in so small a degree, that not one farmer in a hundred ever thinks of it. The trunk is seldom winter-killed. It never cracks. It has no trouble, as the cherry does, . in unbuck- ling the old bark and getting rid of it. The borer is the only important enemy ; and even this is a trifle, if you compare the labor required to destroy it with the pains which men willingly take to secure a crop of potatoes. Acre for acre, an apple orchard will, on an average of years, produce more than half as many bushels of fruit as a potato-field — will it not ? And yet in plough- ing and planting and after-ploughing and hoeing and digging, the potato requires at least five times the annual labor which is needed by the apple. An acre of apple-trees can be kept clean of AGRICULTURAL. 579 all enemies and diseases witli half the labor of once hoeing a crop of potatoes. And if you have borers it is your own fault, and you ought to be bored ! The health of the apple-tree is so great that farmers never think of examining their orchards for disease, any more than they do cedar posts or chestnut rails. And the great longevity of the apple-tree attests its good constitution. Two hundred year? it sometimes reaches. I have a tree on my own place in Peekskill that cannot be less than that. Two ladies, one about eighty years of age, called upon us about three years ago, saying that they were brought up on that farm, and inquiring if the old apple-tree yet lived. They said that in their childhood it was called the old apple-tree, and was then a patriarch. It must now be a Methuselah. x\nd, not to recur to it again, I may say that it is probably the largest recorded apple-tree of the world. I read in no v/ork of any tree whose circumference is greater than twelve or thirteen feet. This morning I measured the Peekskill apple- tree, and found that six inches above the ground it was fourteen feet and six inches, and, at about four feet, or the spring of the limbs, fourteen feet and ten inches. T am sorry to add that the long-suffering old tree gives unmistakable signs of yielding to the infirmities of age. The fruit is sweet, but not especially valu- able, except for stock. I do not expect to live to see any of my other trees attain to the size and age of this solitary lingerer of other centuries ! I cannot help reverencing a tree whose leaves have trembled to the cannonading of the guns of our Revolution, which yielded fruit to Putnam's soldiers when that hill was a military post, and under whose shadow Washington himself — without any stretch of probability — may have walked. I ought not to omit the good properties of the apple-tree for fuel and cabinet-work. I have for five autumns kept up the bright fire required by the weather in an old-fashioned Franklin fireplace, using apple-wood, procured from old trees pruned or cut up wholly ; and, when it is seasoned, I esteem it nearly as good as hickory, fully as good as maple, and far better than seasoned beech, I have also for my best bureau one of apple-wood. It might be mistaken for cherry. It is fine-grained, very hard, solid as mahogany, and grows richer with every year of age. In Europe, the streets and roads are often shaded by fruit trees, 580 HENRY WARD BEECHER. tlie mulberry and the cherry being preferred. In some parts, the public are allowed to help themselves freely. When the fruit of any tree is to be reserved, a wisp of straw is placed around it, which suffices. Upright-growing apple-trees might be employed, with pears and cherries, in our streets and roads, and by their very number, and their abundance of fruit, might be taken away one motive of pilfering from juvenile hands. He must be a pre- ordained thief who will go miles to steal that which he can get in broad daylight, without reproach, by his door. One way to stop stealing is to give folks enough without it. I have thus far spoken of the apple tree. I now pass to the fruit — to the apple itself. The question whether it sprang from the wild crab T do not regard as yet settled. It is not known from any historical evidence to have had that origin. You cannot prove that this, that, or the other man, of any age or nation, planted the seed and brought forward the fruit. Nor am I aware that any man has conducted experiments on it like those of Van Mons on the pear, or those which Dr. Grant has made on the grape that is cultivated in this country, to show that it sprang from the wild grape of Europe. Until that is done, it will be only a theory, a probable fact, but not a fact proved. And, by the way, it might be worth some man's while, at his. leisure, to take the seeds of the American wild grape, and see if, by any horticultural Sunday-school, he can work thera up into good Christian vines. The apple comes nearer to universal uses than any other fruit of the world. Is there another that has such a range of season ? It begins in July, and a good cellar brings the apple round into July again, yet unshrunk, and in good flavor. It belts the year. "What other fruit, except in the tropics, where there is no winter, and where there are successive growths, can do that ? It is a luxury, too. Kinds may be had so tender, so delicate, and, as Dr. Grrant — the General Grant of the vineyards — would say, so refreshing, that not the pear, even, would dare to vie with it, or hope to surpass it. The Vanderveer of the Hudson River, the American Golden Russet, need not, in good seasons, well ripened, fear a regiment of pears in pomological convention, even In the city of Boston. It may not rival the melting qualities of the peach, eating which one knows not whether he is eating or AGRICULTURAL. 581 drinking. But the peacli is the fruit of a day — ephemeral ; and it is doubtful whether one would carry through the year any such relish as is experienced for a few weeks. It is the peculiarity of the apple that it never wearies the taste. It is to fruit what wheatcn bread is to grains. It is a life-long relish. You may be satisfied with apples, but never cloyed. Do you remember your boyhood feats ? I was brought up in a great old-fashioned house, with a cellar under every inch of it through which an ox-cart might have been wheeled after all the bins were full. In this cellar, besides potatoes, beets, and turnips, were stored every year some hundred bushels of apples — the Rhode Island Green- ing, the Roxbury Russet, the Russet round the Stem, as it was called, and the Spitzenberg ; not daintily picked, but shaken down ; not in aristocratic barrels set up in rows, but ox-carts full ; not handled softly, but poured from baskets into great bins, as we poured potatoes into their resting-place. If they bruised and rotted, let them. We had enough and to spare. Two seasons of picking over apples — a sort of grand assizes — but the matter all right. In all my boyhood I never dreamed of apples as things possible to be stolen. So abundant were they, so abso- lutely open to all comers — who went down into the cellar by the inside stairs instead of the outside steps — that we should as soon have thought of being cautioned against taking turnips, or asking leave to take a potato. Apples were as common as air. And that was early in December and January ; for I noticed that the sun was no more fond than I was of staying out a great while on those Litchfield hills, but ran in early to warm his fingers, as I did mine. When the day was done, and the candles were lighted, and the supper was out of the way, we all gathered about the great kitchen fire ; and soon after George or Henry had to go down for apples. Generally it was Henry. A boy's hat is a universal instrument. It is a bat to smack butterflies with, a bag to fetch berries in, a basket for stones to pelt frogs withal, a measure to bring up 'apples in. And a big-headed boy's old felt hat was not stingy in its quantities ; and Avhen its store ended, the errand could always be repeated. To eat, six, eight, and twelve apples in an evening was no great feat for a growing young lad, whose stomach was no more in danger of dyspepsia than the neighbor- hood mill, through whose body passed thousands of bushels of 583 HENRY WARD BEECHER. corn, leaving it no fatter at the end of the year than at the begin- ning. Cloyed with apples ? To eat an apple is to want to eat another. We tire of cherries, of peaches, of strawberries, of figs, of grapes (I say it with reverence in this presence !) but never of apples. Nay, when creature comforts fail, and the heart — hopeless voyager on the troubled sea of life — is sick, apples are comforters ; or, wherefore is it written : " As the apple-tree among the trees of the wood, so is my beloved among the sons. I sat down under his shadow with great delight, and his fruit was sweet to my taste. He brought me to the banqueting house, and his banner over me was love. Stay me with flagons," — undoubtedly of cider ! — " comfort me with apples ; for I am sick of love." If this IS the cure of love, we may the better understand why the popular instinct should have resorted to the apple-tree as a cure for ambition, singing, •■ We '11 hang JefE Davis on a sour-apple tree." There is, in this toothsomeness of the apple, together with its utter harralessness, a provision for nurses and mothers. There is a growing period when children are voracious. They must be filled ; and it is a matter of great account to know what to fill them with. If you give them but bread, that seems meagre. Pies, cakes, and sweetmeats are mischievous ; and yet more so are candies and confections. Apples just hit the mark. They are more than a necessary of life, and less than a luxury. They stand just half-way between bread and cake, as wholesome as one and as good as the other. But now I enter upon the realm of uses, culinary and domes- tic, where, were I an ancient poet, I should stop and invoke all the gods to my aid. But the gods are all gone ; and next to them is that blessing of the world, the housewife. Her I invoke, and chiefly one who taught me, by her kitchen magic, to believe that the germ of civilization is in the art and science of the kitchen. Is there, among fruits, one other that has so wide a range, or a range so important, so exquisite, so wonderful, as the range of the apple in the kitchen ? First, consider it as a fruit-vegetable. It might with great advantage take its place upon the table as regularly as the potato AGRICULTURAL. 583 or tlie onion. Far more odorous is the onion, but, I think, far more blessed is the apple. It is an admirable accompaniment of meat, which always craves a piquant acid for relish. And when meat is wanting, a scrap of pork in the frying-pan, with sliced apples, will serve the economic table almost as well as if it had been carved from a beef or cut from a sheep. We do not use the apple enough in our cooking. As a fruit upon the table it may be used for breakfast, for supper, for dessert. Roasted apples ! Baked apples ! What visions come before my mind ! Not the baked apples of the modern stove, which has humbled their glory. They are still worth eating, but they have lost the stature, the comeliness, and the romance of the old roasted apples, that were placed in due order between the huge andirons, and turned duly by the careful servant, drinking in heat on one side and oxygen on the other, and coming to a degree of luxurious nicety that will never be attained till we go back again to the old fireplace. It was a real pleasure to be sick — I mean on the hither border of sickness ; so that we might not go to school, and so that, while we took a little magnesia, we might feast on delicious roasted apples. And as for baked apples and milk, how can I adequately speak of that most excellent dish ! Then, again, the apple may be regarded as a confection, serving in the form of tarts, pies — blessed be the unknown person who invented the apple-pie ! Did I know where the grave of that person was, methinks I would make a devout pilgrimage thither, and rear a monument over it that should mark the spot to the latest generations. Of all pies, of every name, the apple-pie is easily the first and chief. And what shall I say of jellies, dump- lings, puddings and various preserves, that are made from the apple ? It might seem hard, in this enumeration of the many forms in which the apple is made to contribute to the benefit of mankind, not to notice that form in which it defies age — I refer to the dried apple. No festoons are more comely than were those half circles that used to decorate the rafters of the old-fashioned kitchen. I confess that no dried fruit is worthy to be called fruit, whether it be huckleberry, or peach, or pear, or apple. Once dried, these things have lost the soul of their flavor ; and no coddling, no soaking, no experimenting, will ever bring them back to what 584 HENRY WARD BEECHER. they were in their original fresh life. You cannot give youth to old age in apples any more than among men. And yet, as a souvenir, as a sad remeiubrancer of days gone by, dried apples are very good. Next, we naturally consider the use of apples as food for stock — for swine, for horses, and for cattle. This use of them is known ; but it seems to me that they are not thus employed near so much as their benefits would justify. Last of all, let me speak of cider ; for, although the days of temperance have banished cider from its former and almost uni- versal position upon the farmer's table, it is creeping back again. Not daring to come in its own name, it comes in the name of a neighbor, and is called champagne. But whether it comes in one form or another, it still is savory of the orchard ; still it brings warmth to chilly veins ; still it is a contribution to many a homely domestic festival. And though I cannot, as a temperance man, exhort you to make it, I must say, that if you loill make it, you bad better make it good ! But woe to him who takes another step in that direction ! Cider-brandy is a national disgrace. How great is the calamity that impends over a community that makes cider-brandy may be known by the recent history of the Shenandoah valley ; it being declared by several of the Richmond papers that the defeat of Early was owing to the abundance of apple-jack there. It only remains that I should say a single word on the subject of the apple as an article of commerce. Whether fresh or dried, it is still, in that relation, a matter of no small importance. The home market is enlarging every year ; and as soon as the apple shall become so cheap that all men may have it no matter how poor they may be, the market must of necessity have become very much augmented. Many men suppose that as orchards increase and fruit multiplies the profits diminish. Such is not the fact. As the commoner kinds multipl}', and the common people learn to use them as daily food, the finer kinds will bear proportionally higher prices ; and cheapness is one of the steps to profit in all things that are consumed in the community. And I should be glad to see the day when, for a few pence, every drayman, every common laborer in every city, should be able to bring as much fruit to his house every day as his family could consume in that AGRICULTURAL. 585 day. I should be glad to see in our cities, what is to be seen to some extent in the cities of Europe, the time when a penny oi two will enable a man to bring home enough flowers to decorate his table of food twice a day. We have not merely in view the profits of raising fruit when we exhort you to bestow your attention on the apple more and more as an article of commerce ; we have also in view the social influence which it may be made to exert. I hold that when in any respect you lift the common people up, whether by giving them a better dwelling, by placing within their reach better furni- ture, or by enabling them to furnish their table better, you are raising them toward self-respect ; you are raising them toward the higher positions in society. For, although all men should start with the democracy, all men have a right to stop with the aris- tocracy. Let all put their feet on the same level ; and then let them shoot as high as they please. Blessed is the man that knows how to overtop his neighbors by a fair development of skill and strength. And every single step of advance in general culti- vation, even though it is brought about by so humble an instru- mentality as the multiplication of fruit, or anything else that aug- ments the range of healthful enjoyment among the common people, not only stimulates their moral growth, but, through that growth gives the classes above them a better chance to grow. One of the most efficient ways of elevating the whole community is to multiply the means of livelihood among the poorest and commonest. I will not finish my remarks with those elaborate statistics or with those admirable and eloquent periods with which I should be pleased to entertain you, for two reasons : first, because I would not consume your time at so late an hour ; and, secondly, because I have none of these things at hand ! OUR CREED. We believe in small farms and thorough cultivation. 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 farm and the farmer rich at once. We believe in going to the bottom of things, and, therefore, in 586 HENRY WARD BEECHER. deep plougliing, and enough of it. All the better if with a sub- soil plough. 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 conscieuce. 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 unwilling to work, and in all farmers ashamed of their vocation, or who drink whiskey till honest people are ashamed of them. HUMOROUS. MODERN CONVENIENCES AND FIRST-CLASS HOUSES. There are many persons who suppose that people who live in first-class houses, with all the modern improvements, must of course be much puffed up, and that they become quite grand in their own eyes. It is true, sometimes, that fine houses have proud people in them. We can imagine a pride so reluctant of discipline, and so indocile, as to survive in spite of the experience of a first-class house. But we suspect the same of very poor tene- ments. When we moved into a capacious brown-stone dwelling, our better nature, with great simplicity, whispered, " Beware of temptation." And, with an ignorance quite as simple, we sup- posed that the thieves of grace would be found lurking in large rooms, at ambush behind cornices reproduced from old Rome, or in stately appearances ! How little did we suspect that these were harmless, and that very different elements were to moth our patience ! But let a little preliminary exultation of a new man in a new place be forgiven, ye who are now established ! Remember your own household fervor on first setting up, while we recount our eco- nomic joy, and anticipations of modern conveniences that would take away all human care, and speed life upon a down-hill path, where it was to be easier to move than to stand still ! Every- thing was admirable I The attic had within it a tank so large as better to be called a reservoir. Down from it ran the serviceable pipes to every part of the dwelling. Each chamber had its invis- ible water-maid in the w^all, ready to spring the floods upon you by the mere turn of your hand ; then the bath-room, with tub, douche, shower, and indeed various and universal squirt — up, 588 HENRY WARD BEECHER. down, and promiscuous. The kitclien, too — the tubs with water waiting to leap into them, the long cylinder by the side of the fire, as if the range had its baby wrapped up, and set perpendicu- lar in the corner to nurse. But greatest of all admirations was the furnace ! This too, was interframed with the attic tank ; for it v/as a hot-water furnace. For a time this was our peculiar pride. The water flowed down into a system of coiled tubes, which were connected with the boiler surrounding the furnace fire. The idea was, when the water got as hot as it could well bear, that it should frisk out of one end of the boiler into the pipes, and round through the whole system, and come back into the other end cooled off. Thus a complete arterial system was established — the boiler being the heart, the water the blood, the pipes at the hot end the arteries, and the return pipes at the cool end the veins — the whole inclosed in a brick chamber, from which the air warmed by this liquid heat was given off to the dwelling. It was a day of great glory when we thought the chill in the air required a fire in the furnace. The fact was that we wanted to play with our pet, and were half vexed with the old conservative thermometer, that would not come down, and admit that it was cold enough for a fire. However, we do not recollect ever afterward to have been so eager. In the first place, we never could raise enough heat to change the air in the house more than from cold to chill. We piled in the coal, and watched the thermometer ; ran down for coal again, and ran back to watch the thermometer. We brought home coal, exchanged glances over the bill with the consulting partner, and made silent estimates of the expenses of the whole winter, if this were but the beginning. But there was the old red dragon in the cellar devouring coal remorselessly, with his long iron tail folded and coiled in the furnace chamber without heat. Thus, for a series of weeks, we fired off the furnace in the cellar at the thermometer in the parlor, and never hit. But we did accomplish other things. Once the fire was driven so hard tliat steam began to form and rumble and blow off, very innocently ; but the girls did not know that, and took to their heels for fear of being blown up. When the cause was discovered, the remedy was not easy, for the furnace bottom was immovable, and the fire could not be let down. But our Joan of Arc assailed the enemy in his own HUMOROUS. 589 camp, and threw a bucket of water into the fire. This produced several effects : it put out the fire, it also put out so much gas, steam, and ashes that the maiden was quite put out also. And more than all, it cracked the boiler. But this we did not know till some time afterward. There were a few days of compara- tive rest. The weather was mild out of doors, and cold within. It was soon reported that one of the pipes was stopped up in the chamber, for the water would not flow. The plumber was sent for. He was already well acquainted witli the way to the house. He brought upon himself a laugh of ridicule by sug- gesting that the water had given out in the tank ! Water given out ? We turned inwardly pale behind the outward red of laughing. We thought we had a pocket-ocean upstairs. Up we marched, climbed up the sides, peered down to the dirty bottom of an emptied tank ! Alas ! the whole house was symmetrically connected. Everything depended upon this tank ; the furnace in the cellar, the range in the kitchen, the laundry department, all the washing apparatus of the chambers, the con- venient china-closet sink, where things were to be washed with- out going downstairs, the entry closets, and almost everything else, except the door-bell, were made to go by v/ater, and now the universal motive-power was gone ! A new system of conv^eniences was now developed. We stationed an Irish engine at the force- pump to throw up water into the tank from the street cistern. Blessings be on that cistern in the street ! No man knew how deep that was. Like the p ^nd in every village, nobody had ever found bottom. And so we limped along for a few days. Meanwhile, the furnace having been examined, the secret of all this trouble was detected. The life-blood of the house had been oozing and flowing away through this furnace ! How much •would it cost to repair it ? More money than a hot-air furnace would cost, and half more than that ! So we determined to clear out the pet. Alas (again) how we fondled the favorite at first, and how contemptuously we kicked it at last ! It is said that no one is a whole man ; we have partial gifts. In our own case, the gift of buying was liberally bestowed, but the talent for selling was either withheld or lay an undeveloped embryo. How to sell the old furnace and to get a new one ! There is a great psycho- logical experience there. We aroused ourselves, gave several 590 HENRY WARD BEECHER. days to contemplation, laid aside all other cares, ran from furnace to furnace, saw six or eight patterns, each one of which was better than all the others, and all of them were able to evolve vast quantities of heat, with an imaginary amount of fuel. But fort- une, that had so long persecuted us, did not presume to destroy us yet, and, as a cat with a rat, let us out of its paws for a moment's ease. In other words, we arranged with Messrs. Kichardson & Boynton to put their furnace in the place of the hot-air gentleman in black. And to this hour we have been glad of it. A winter and a half on Brooklyn Heights will put any fur- nace to proof. And we are prepared to defy the north wind, the west, or the boisterous southwest. They may heap winter as high as they please without, we have summer within. But O the changing ! It was mid- winter. The mild weather took this chance to go Southland got in its place the niggardliest fellow that ever stood sentinel in Kamtschatka. The cellar was divided from the kitchen in part by this furnace. For two or three weeks they were chiselling the tubes apart, and getting the rubbish out of the way — masons, tenders, ironmen, old iron and new iron, tin pipes, carpenters, and new air-boxes, girls and dinner, the Irishman wheezing at the pump — all mixed in such confusion, that language under the tower of Babel was a eupho- nious literature in comparison. Sometimes, as we walked out, our good and loving deacons, in a delicate way, would warn us of the danger of being puffed up with the pride of a stylish house ! At length, after nearly six weeks of the coldest weather of the season, the new furnace took charge of the house. Water returned to the attic. The girls no longer dreaded being blown up by the boiler at the range. But the report came up that the sinks were stopped. After investigation, the kitchen floor must be ripped up, the great waste-pipe reached by digging, and laid open. Broken tumblers, plates, and cups stopped up the pipes. Another week for this. Just as we were sitting down to a danger- ous peace, we walked to the window one morning, to see that our yard had disappeared ! The roof of the store on which it was laid had given way, and carried down all the earth, crashing through the four stories to the ground I Just one thing more was needed — that the house itself should slide off bodily, and dump itself into the East River ! Yet the misfortune was not HUMOROUS. 591 without comfort. The store was used for grinding drugs. Ten thousand pounds of salts, ipecac, rhubarb, strychnine, and such like delicacies, were hidden beneath a hundred tons of earth — the medicine being, where many people for whom it was destined would have been, buried under ground. For several weeks after- ward, I think the bills of mortality improved in the region around. There were a great number of other things exceedingly con- venient in our house. The water-pipe from the roof to the front cistern was carried down within the wall to the ground. The bitter cold froze it up. Nobody could get at it. We salted it, we poked hot irons into the tap, we took counsel, and finally let it alone. The cornice leaked, the walls were damp, the ceiling threatened to come off ; our neighbor's pipe discharged so much of its contents on the ground as to saturate the wall in our base- ment entry, the area overflowed into the cellar, we dug a cess- pool to let it off, and cut through the cistern pipe leading to the kitchen pump. It could not be soldered with water in it, and the cistern must be run dry before that could be fixed. The attic tank gave out again. No water ! " Water, water everywhere, And not a drop" — to wash with. Then came on a system of begging. "VVe took the neighborhood in order, and went from house to house, till we exhausted the patience and the cisterns of every friend within reach. Then we betook ourselves to the street pump, and for two months we and the milkman subsisted upon that. There was a grand arrangement of bells at our front door which seldom failed to make everybody outside mad because they would not ring, or everybody inside mad because they rang so furiously. The contrivance was, that two bells should be rung by one wire ; a common bell in the servants' entry, and a gong in the upper entry. The bell-train was so heavy to draw, that it never oper- ated till the man got angry and pulled with the strength of an ox. But then it went off with such a crash and jingle, that one would think a band of music with all its cymbals had fallen through the sky-light down into the entry. Thus, women, children, and modest men seldom got in, and sturdy beggars had it all their own way. It was quite edifying to see experiments performed on 592 HENRY WARD BEECHER. that bell. A man would first give a modest pull — and tlien reflect what he was about to say. No one coming, he gave a longer pull, and returned to waiting and meditation, A third pull was the preface to stepping back, surveying the windows, looking into the area, when, seeing signs of unquestionable habita- tion, he returns with flushed face to the bell. Now for it ! He pulls as if he held a line by the side of a river with a thirty-pound salmon on it ; while all the bells go off, up and down, till the house seemed full of bells. Things are not mended when he finds the gentleman of the house is not at home ! We fear that much grace has been lost at that front door. In the midst of these luxuries of a first-class house, we some- times would look wistfully oat of the window, tempted to envy the unconscious happiness of our two-story neighbors. They had no conveniences, and were at peace ; while we had all manner of conveniences, that drove us up and down stairs — now to keep the flood out, and then to bring it in ; now to raise a heat, then to keep off a conflagration ; so that we were but little better off at home than are those innocently insane people who leave home every summer, and go into the country to take care of twenty trunks for two months. But the cruellest thing of all, as we stood at the window, was the pious looks of passers-by, who seemed to say with their eyes, " A man cannot expect much grace that lives in such a fine house." It has certainly been a means of grace to us ! Never such a field for patience, such humbling of expectations and high looks. If it would not seem like trifling with serious subjects, when asked how one might attain to perfection, we should advise him to buy a first-class house with modern improvements, and live in it for a year. If that did not fit him for translation, he might well despair of any chance. Ye who envj' us, will you exchange with us ? Ye who laugh sarcastically at ministerial luxury, will 3'ou lend us your sackcloth and take our conveniences ? But those who do live in houses full of conveniences will henceforth be our fast friends. They will say, What if he is abolitionist, and we pro-slavery ? What if he is radical, and we conservative ? The poor fellow lives in a first-class house, and is punished enough without our adding to his misfortunes ! HUMOROUS. 593 Meanwhile we practise the same charity. We rail no more at Fifth Avenae, and admire what saintly virtue enables so many to carry cheerful faces, who live in houses with even more conven- iences than ours. We are grateful for our happier lot. Though we are worse off than people in two-story houses, how much better are we placed than if we lived in Fifth Avenue ! We bear our burden patiently, knowing that in the very moment of despair persons are at the very point of deliverance. Who knows but he may have a fire as well as his neighbors 2 One hour would suflBce to set a man free from all his troubles, and permit him to walk the streets at liberty, unharassqd by plumbers, carpenters, tinners, glaziers, gas-fixers, carpet-fitters, bell-hangers, and the whole tribe of bell-pullers ! We are now living at peace. We are in a plain two-story country house without " conveniences." We are recruiting. Nothing gets out of order. We do not wake to hear water trick- ling from bursted pipes ; we have no chandelier to fall down ; the gas never leaks ; we are not afraid to use our furniture ; our chairs have no linen clothes on ; the carpets are without drugget. The children bless the country and a country house, in which they are not always scratching something, or hitting something with shoe, or button, or finger-nails. And we already feel that a few weeks more will so far invigorate us that we shall be able to return for a ten months' life in a modern house with conveniences. 36 r CLOSING YEARS. CLOSING YEARS. CHAPTER I. LAST VISIT TO ENGLAND — SEVENTIETH BIRTHDAY, ETC. The life of the pastor is not ordinarily eventful. The pastoral life of Mr. Beecher has been no exception to the general rule of pas- torates ; he has continued to preach in Plymouth pulpit to great congregations, which in size and attention have been as phenomenal as when he was the novelty of forty years ago. Ordinarily, not only every pew, br t every aisle seat has been occupied ; often men and women have flood about the door and in such few passage- ways as are not provided w^th chairs. If there has been any diminution, it has been in the number of those turned away from the door unable to obtain an entrance. The church itself numbers twenty-five hundred members ; more significant than the size of the church is the fact that only a little over one third of these members are women. Mr. Beecher's life, however, during these few years, has been marked by four incidents, which are significant of the hold he had upon the heart and mind of the public, and of his own sturdy independence, his freedom from traditional theories, and his inherent spirit of progress. In 1883, under the auspices of Mr. J. B. Pond, Mr. Beecher made a lecture tour through the great Northwest, to Washington Territory, thence to San Francisco, Colorado, Utah, Texas, Ala- bama, Georgia, and thence returning home. In this lecture tour he travelled eighteen thousand five hundred miles, and lectured seventy-five times. Everywhere— West, South, and on the Pacific Coast — he was cordially welcomed. This lecture tour in his own country was followed by one in England in 1886, under the 598 HENRY WARD BEECHER. auspices of the same business manager. The welcome in England was as cordial and more demonstrative than in America, and the applications to lecture exceeded many times those which it was possible for him to accept. He was at times sharply catechised as to his theology, but invariably answered such inquiries, when civilly put, with frankness and good humor ; and on his return told his own people that he found a much greater liberty of thought in the Dissenting churches of Eno-land than in the churches of like faith and order in the United States. His last public service in England was an address in the " City Temple of London," of which the Rev. Joseph Parker is pastor. The audience consisted mainly of ministers and theological students gathered to hear an address from him on " Preaching," which was in his most felici- tous style ; it will be found elsewhere in this volume. Among those on the occasion of this visit to England, to do honor to the " editor, the orator, and the preacher," were Mr. Glad- stone, Lord Iddesleigh, Professor Bryce, the Dean of West- minster, the Dean of Canterbury, Archdeacon Farrar, Canon Fleming, Canon Wilberforce, the Baroness Burdett-Coutts, Ellen Terry, . Henry Irving, Professor Tyndall, Sir John Lubbock, George Jacob Holyoake, and Mr. Herbert Spencer. We doubt whether a more enthusiastic reception has ever been given to any American, and we have not forgotten the enthusiasm with which England has welcomed Irving, Longfellow, Grant, Talmage, and Holmes. This popular enthusiasm for Mr. Beecher is by no means con- fined to those who live at a distance and know him only by his great reputation. There is no city in either country which has so delighted to do him honor as the city of Brooklyn, which has been for forty years his home ; of this a striking demonstration was afforded by the celebratiorr in that city of his seventieth birth- day. This occurred on Monday evening, June 25th, 1883, when the Academy of Music of Brooklyn was filled to overflowing with an audience gathered in response to an invitation from a Committee of Arrangements composed of some of Brooklyn's most noteworthy citizens. The commencement of the programme was announced for eight o'clock, but at ten minutes past seven the doors were closed, for the house was already almost dangerously full. Not only was every seat occupied, but the aisles near the door were CLOSING YEARS. 599 packed with persons who stood patiently from eight till eleven. Over seven hundred invited guests were on the spacious stage. Among them were most of the leading clergymen of Brooklyn and many from New York City ; indeed, it would take far less space to call the roll of the eminent men, clergy and laity, of Brooklyn who were absent than of those who were present. While the in- vited guests were arranging themselves a throng continued to gather in the street outside, in that curious hope which always ani- mates the breast of such a crowd, of seeing or hearing something by being at hand. In this case it was destined not to be disap- pointed, for, as the exercises began within the hall, word was passed to Mr. Beecher, and he went out and spoke a few words of wel- come and counsel to those without. In one of the proscenium boxes was Mrs. Beecher, in another Mrs. Stowe, each surrounded by family friends and carrying in the face the witness of that pride of love in the heart which only a wife, a sister, or a mother can know on such an occasion. Judge Neilson, who had presided on Mr. Beecher's trial, called the meeting to order. Rev. Charles H. Hall, rector of Trinity Church, Brooklyn, presided. The addresses of the evening were four in number ; Dr. Armitage spoke on Mr. Beecher as a man, Dr. Robert Collyer on Mr. Beecher's English campaign, Dr. Fulton on Mr. Beecher as a Christian, and Mayor Low on Mr. Beecher as a citizen. Two unexpected and unannounced features furnished pleasant sur- prises to the audience — one, the presentation of a silver pitcher and testimonial to Mr. Beecher from a Jewish congregation, by Rabbi Wintener of the Hebrew Temple Beth Elohim ; the other, the presentation of greetings from Ireland, by Hon. John Bar- ry, M.P., who chanced to be upon the platform. An allusion in Dr. Armitage's address to Mrs. Stowe brought the audi- ence to their feet in a spontaneous and enthusiastic demon- stration to her. It was considerably after ten o'clock when Mr. Beecher rose to make the closing address of the evening. The entire audience rose to their feet to greet him ; the clapping of hands and waving of handkerchiefs and cheering were continued for some minutes, and closed with three cheers given with a will. How deeply Mr. Beecher was affected was shown not only in the deeply religious tone of his address, but in his subdued and quiet manner, for his voice was throughout low and gentle, scarcely at 600 HENRY WARD BEECHER. any time raised above a conversational tone. It seemed at times as though it could have scarcely been audible at the rear of the hall, but no one left the building. The address was characteristic of the man ; he disowned the praises that had been heaped upon him, and, gathering them up, laid them at the feet of the Master, saying, as he did so, with entire simplicity, " By the grace of God, I am what I am." No more striking test of Mr. Beecher's independence of charac- ter has been afforded in his life than by his political course in the Presidential election of 1884. By that time a division had arisen within the Republican Party. The majority believed that there was danger that the South would recover by strategy in politics what it had lost by the war : not that slavery or secession would be trium- phant, but that the old Southern spirit would dominate the nation. They believed, therefore, the continued triumph and power of the Republican Party was of the first importance. The minority believed that the results achieved by the war and the emancipation, and by the subsequent enfranchisement of the colored people, had carried with it the entire overthrow of the old South ; that a new South had arisen in its place ; that the old issues were settled, and that new issues had taken their place. They desired, therefore, that the Republican Party, turning its back upon the past, should take up the questions of temperance, civil service reform, and taxation, and devote itself to their solution. To this party Mr. Beecher be- longed, both by reason of his charitable and hopeful temperament and by reason of his profound convictions. The nomination of Mr. Blaine for President was received with enthusiasm by the first of these two parties, but with coldness by the second, which deep- ened into strong opposition as the campaign proceeded. Grover Cleveland, a Democratic politician lawyer of Buffalo, had in the State election preceding carried New York State by an overwhelm- ing majority, not as a Democrat, but as a reform candidate ; as Governor he had fought a brief battle against corruption in his own State with marked success ; and the Democrats nominated him for President. Personal interests, personal friendships, and lifelong associations attached Mr. Beecher to the Republican Party. But he believed that civil service reform was the need of the hour, and that the advancement of that reform depended on the election of Mr. Cleveland. When his friends learned that he was consid- CLOSING YEARS. 601 ering the question of speaking for the Democratic candidate, recognizing the influence he would exert, they besought him, from prudential considerations, if for no other reasons, to abstain from taking any part in the campaign. But prudential considera- tions never influenced Mr. Beecher ; and, Laving made up his mind that the question of civil administration was the real question for the country, and that it would be best promoted by the election of Mr. Cleveland, he threw himself into the campaign with all the ardor of his nature. Whether it is best for a minister to take any part in political strife, except in very extraordinary cases, and whether in this instance Mr. Beecher's judgment failed him as to the part which in the then condition of parties the true patriot should take, are questions which there is no occasion here to dis- cuss ; but now that the heats of the campaign have passed, I think his severest critics and bitterest antagonists concede the unselfish courage and the disinterested spirit which animated him in his course. Nor less was this courage manifested by his public advocacy of evolution. Evolution had come to be identified in the public mind with infidelity. It does undoubtedly involve a recasting of the philosophic statements of creation, sin, revelation, and redemp- tion, and, to many, such a recasting appears equivalent to an entire abandonment of these truths. Mr. Beecher, convinced of the truth of evolution as a philosophy of life, set himself with charac- teristic ardor to convince others of it ; with a vehemence that was at times excessive, he attacked the old theological statements at points where they impinged upon the new philosophy. He pre- pared a special lecture on " Evolution and Revolution," which he repeated at many points in the country ; and he gave to his own people a series of sermons on " Evolution and Religion," which have since been published in book form, and which contain the fullest and best embodiment of his views on this subject. During the delivery of these sermons the church was crowded, neither heat nor storm having any perceptible influence in diminish- ing the audiences. The sermons were reported verbatim, tele- graphed to Chicago, and published in full each Monday morning in the Chicago Tribune. It is evident that whatever others may think or appear to think, Mr. Beecher did not regard himself as any less in sympathy with 602 HENRY WARD BEECHER. evangelical Christianity and evangelical churches than formerly because he was an evolutionist. In the seventh and last sermon he declared that the world cannot do without the Church, and that evolutionary theology, while it will modify its externalities, will vivify, purify, and unify it. In his second sermon he emphatically declares his faith in the fundamental tenets of what is known as evangelical theology. We quote : " I believe in God. I believe in immortality. I believe in Jesus Christ as the representation of the divinity of God. I be- lieve in all the essential truths that go to make up morality and spiritual religion. lam neither an intidel, nor an agnostic, nor an atheist ; but if I am anything, by the grace of God I am a lover of Jesus Christ, as the manifestation of God under the limitations of space and matter ; and in no part of my life has my ministry seemed to me so solemn, so earnest, so truthful as this decade will seem, if I shall succeed in uncovering to the faith of God's peo- ple the great truths of the two revelations — God's building revela- tion of the material globe, and God's building revelation in the history of the unfolding of the human mind. May God direct me." In the same sermon he referred to the positions of Professor Dana, of Yale College ; Professor Asa Gray, of Harvard ; Pro- fessor Le Comte, of the University of California ; Dr. McCosh, of Princeton, and others, as substantially his own. In other sermons he reiterated his faith in the sinfulness of the race, and its redemption through Christ. His eloquent panegyric on the Bible in his third sermon deserves a place among pulpit classics upon this classical theme. And almost every discourse ends, as do Paul's Epistles, with a fervid spiritual appeal to the consciousness of his hearers, and an endeavor to apply his teaching to their moral and spiritual needs. The gist of these sermons may be thus epitomized : There is a personal, conscious, intelligent God ; He is disclosed to humanity, not by an instant revelation of Himself, but by suc- cessive revelations through the experience of the race, as a founda- tion for the reception of such revelations as is laid in its grow- ing moral and spiritual nature. The world is itself a growth from chaotic beginnings ; the race a growth from lower and rudimentary forms — how low and rudimentary we do not know ; the first chapter CLOSING YEARS. 603 of Genesis ia a poem, not a treatise in cosmogony ; and the drama of Eden is a drama, a legend, a poetic parable, not a scientific ac- count of the origin of man. The Bible is the record of the grad- ually unfolding revelation of God to a gradually devclo})cd race of man ; it is the story of man's experiments, blundeiings, discov- eries, disasters, and achievements, not an authoritative and infalli- ble disclosure of truth ready-made, and given from the first in its final and perfected form. Man himself is a composite cieature, animal at the bottom, spiritual at the top, and gradually being lifted by divine processes from the lower animal to the higher spiritual condition ; those who cannot be lifted, who prove them- selves unsusceptible to all divine elevating influences, " go down steadily lower and lower until they lose the susceptibility, the pos- sibility, of moral evolution, moral development ; let them keep on, and in the great abyss of nothingness there is no groan, no sorrow, no pain, and no memory." Regeneration is necessary to spiritual life ; but regeneration is not a new power conferred by the irresistible grace of God on an unwilling or a passive recipient ; it is the lifting of the soul up by the touch of a higher, a divine nature, into the conditions necessary to a divine life, into the sun- light where alone the soul can grow. Design in creation is not disproved by evolution ; on the contrary, a grander design is illus- trated and exemplified ; the Church will not be weakened by it, but vivified and enlarged. The exposition of this system was Mr. Beecher's last contribu- tion to theological thought ; the story of his death and the won- derful tributes of a nation to his life and character will be reserved for a future chapter. CHAPTER II. HIS LIFE AS SKETCHED BY HIMSELF LAST DISCOURSE. Oh' Tuesday, September 28th, 1886, upon the occasion of Mr, Beecher's visit to England, the Board of London Congregational Ministers, with their wives or other lady friends, and a few invited guests, entertained Mr. and Mrs. Beecher at a social meeting in the Memorial Hall. The Christian World of September 30th said : " Soon after four o'clock a goodly company had assembled in the library, where tea and coffee were served. An hour having been occupied in conversazione fashion, an adjournment took place to the large hall above till the tables were cleared. The company, probably four hundred or upward, then re-formed in the library, and the meeting was constituted by the Rev. John Nunn, minister of Haverstock Hill Church, the year's chairman of the Board, taking the president's seat and giving out a hymn, which was sung. The Rev. Josiah Viney, of Caterham, next led the meeting in prayer, and with so much appropriateness and feeling that every one present must at once have felt it to be a hallowed season." After an ope ning address by the Rev. John Nunn, the Rev. Dr. Allon read an address of welcome to Mr. Beecher, at the conclu- sion of which Mr. Beecher made response as follows : MR. beecher's RESPONSE. The Re\^ Henry Ward Beecher, who, on rising, was received with prolonged, acclamation, said : " My life has been a long and public life already, and the experiences of that life in the wilder- ness, 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 CLOSING YEARS. 605 it has been poured, constitute by all odds the most memorable experience of my whole life. (Applause.) It is not a matter, to-night, of vanity on my part. Not before 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 such Christian fidelity and such simple manliness, 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 express. I only know this — and I say it as in the conscious pres- ence of Christ, my Lord and my all — that by the grace given to me of my God and ray mother I have endeavored during my long life 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 deliber- ately 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 mv 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 be- came urgent, I remember, as if it were but yesterday, when I laid my literary ambition and my scholarly desires 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 will- ing not to carve statues of beauty, but simply to do the things that would please God in the salvation of men. ' " I have had every experience 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. (Laughter.) But these things have all been incidental. And now to begin at the beginning, for this must be biographical ; I dis- miss my modesty and I go at myself now. (Applause.) " My mother, born in the Episcopal Church and a devout ad- 606 HENRY WARD BEECHER. herent to that form of faith and government, married my father. She was a sensible woman, evinced not only by that but by the fact that she united herself to the Congregational Church in Litch- field, Conn. , and she was a woman of extraordinary graces and gifts ; a woman not demonstrative, with a profound philosopliical nature and of wonderful depth of affection, but with a serenity that was simply charming. While my father was in the early re- ligious 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 were 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 mis- sionary ; 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 my life long (much laughter), for it so happens one does not need to go far from his own country to find his audience before him. From her I received my love of the beautiful, my poetic temperament, which I beg you to take notice is culpable for a good deal of that heresy to which allusion has been made. (Laughter.) From her, also, I received simplicity and childlike faith in God. I went through all the colic and anguish of hyper- Calvinism while I was yet quite young. Happily, my constitu- tion 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 upward I knew as much about decrees, foreordination, 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 re- member with shame and mortification the experiences through which I went ; the pleadings for mercy, the longings for some token of acceptance, and the prayers that became ritualistic from their repetition, that I might have that that was hanging over my CLOSING YEARS. 607 head and waiting for me to take, and I did not know how — 1 did not know how. \Yhen at last it pleased God to reveal to nie Ilis infinite, universal love to mankind, and I beheld Him as a helper, as the soul's midwife, as the soul's physician, and I felt because I was weak I could come to Him ; because I did not know hjw, 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 ray conscious weakness and want. I will not repeat the scene of that morning when light broke fairly on my mind ; hov? one might have thought that I was a lunatic escaped from confinement, how I ran up and down through the primeval forest 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 in on my mind, I cried, * T have found my God ; I have found my God I ' " From that hour I consecrated myself to the work of the ministry. I had been studying theology. You would not suspect it, but I know a good deal of theology. (Much laughter. ) Well, I was called to work in Ohio and in Indiana, and very soon I found that my work was very largely a missionary work, for the States were then young — it was fifty years ago — and they were very largely peopled by emigrants, men that had come without fortune to make fortune. I went through the woods and through camp- meetings and over prairies. Everywhere my vacations were all missionary tours, preaching Christ for the hope of salvation. I am not saying this to show you how I came to the knowledge of Christ, but to show you how I came to the habit and forms of my ministry. I tried everything on to folks. I had an active mind and 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 repented 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 be- lieve in theology. There was a sort of veiled allusion to that in the address — not very veiled, methinks. (Laughter.) My minis- try began in the West, as I have said. I was fresh from the con- troversies of New England. I went to Cincinnati for the study / 608 HENRY WARD REECHER. i 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 General Assembly kicked it all out. You need not ask me whether I was disgusted or not, whether I saw all the wild work of warring, pestilent the- ology, and all that strife with acquiescence or with sympathy. Then in connection with that, the General Assembly of the Pres- byterian Church broke in two ; one half was new school and the other half old school. The new school Prcsbyterianism in America means Calvinism leavened by New England thought ; the old school means Calvinism with Scotch and Irish thought-leavening, and the Middle States and the Western were largely populated by the schoolmasters and the preachers that came from Scotland and Ireland. I need not say that they brought their peculiarities with them. (Laughter.) " Now, seeing this fight, degenerating oftentimes into the most scandalous enmities, I turned away in absolute disgust from all these things and said, ' Mj^^usiness shall be to save men, and to bring to bear upon them those views tluit are my comfort, that are the bread of life to me,' and I went (ut among them almost entirely cut loose from the ordinary church ..iDstitutions and agencies, knowing nothing but 'Christ, and Him crucified, 'the Sufferer for mankind. Did not the men round me need such a Saviour ? Was there ever such a field as I found ? Every sym- pathy of my being was continually solicited for the ignorance, for the rudeness, for the aberrations, for the avarice, for the quarrel- someness of the men among whom 1 was, and I was trying every form and presenting Christ as a medicine 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, and I am still — all that is left of it in me ; and I had followed all the way up with a profound convic- tion that God 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 ; CLOSING YEARS. 609 but I had not time to attend to that. (Laughter.) When they said to me, ' You are not orthodox,' I replied, ' Very well, be it so ; I am out on another business ; I understand that call that has been sounding down through two thousand years, and is sound- ing 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 ih which I felt dissatisfied with the views of God that had been before given. 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 believe were true, or, if true, not in any such proportion. 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 know not where they have laid Him.' It seemed to me that men could not believe in such a God as 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 system or another ; any sys- tem that will bring a man from darkness to faith and love I will tolerate ; and any system that lets down the curtam between God and men, whether it is canonical priest or church service or church methods, whether it is the philosophical or the theological — any- thing that blurs the presence of God, anything that makes the heavens black and the heart hopeless, I will fight it to the death. (Loud applause.) " Well, a little later on — this, perhaps, will cover the first twenty years of my ministry — before 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 reformations of the age ; and just at that time that question was coming up which involved every principle of recti- tude, of morality, of humanity and of religion. My father was too old ; the controversy came on when he was failing ; he was cautious in his way ; he was afraid that his son Henry would get himself into diflSculties. But I took no counsel with men. When 37 610 HENRY WARD BEECHER. I came to Brooklyn, somft 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 yourself away ; ' and they warned me not to preach on slavery and on some other topics that at that time 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 brouglit praise, but because they brought the other thing continually. But men would come and would hear, and I rejoiced 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 smote with the sword and with the spear, not because I loved contro- versy, but because I loved truth and humanity ; and because I saw weak men flinch, and because I saw base men truckle and bargain, because I saw that the cause of Christ was likely to suffer, I fought, and 1 will fight to the end. (Loud applause.) " With this brief analysis of the lines of development, 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 universally 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 iu the faith of ,Tesus Christ. There is my orthodoxy. (Applause.) 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 differ- ent testimonies or 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 on to that. (Much laughter.) On what grounds may a man hope ? CLOSING YEARS. Gil On the atonement of Christ ? Yes, if you want to interpose that word, atonement, on that ground, unquestionably, I am accu-^- tomed to say Christ saves men. But how ? That is His lookout, not mine. (Applause.) I think that because 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 Him ? ' 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 atonement 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 ques- tions the doctor before 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 heterodox 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 be- lieve 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 besides. Nothing ; it blinds him. There is nothing 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 boundlessness 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 marching 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 stay- ing of evil I know it is the Sun of Righteousness and the name to me is Jesus — 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 other 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 G12 HENRY WARD BEECHER. with Christ, and then to make use of everything that is in you, your analogical reasoning, your logical reasoning, your imagina- tion, your mirthfulness, 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 congre- gation— that has been my theory of preaching the Gospel. A good many 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. 1 have felt that man should consecrate every gift that he has got in him that has any relation to the persuasion of men, and to the melting of men — that he should put them all on the altar, kindle them all, and let them burn for Christ's sake. (Applause. ) I have never sought singularity, and I have never avoided singularity. When they wanted some other sort of teaching 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 sub- stantially conformed ; they borrowed and brought into service the synagogical worship 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 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 hira. I will tell you what to do,' says James the Ven- erable, ' 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 that Christ was the only hope and foundation, and that Moses was a mere shadow, and a forerunner and preparation for Christ. He went into the temple ; but do you suppose he had a church cate- CLOSING YEARS. 613 chism and a!l his foundations 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 ordinance 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 not divinely ordered ; Sunday-schools are not divinely ordered ; but would you dispense with them ? Is there no law and reason except that of the letter ? Whatever thing is found when applied to human nature to do good, 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 venerable 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 how many lurking mischiefs that temptation will bring out ! I could never be a Roman Catholic, but 1 could be a Christian in a Roman Catholic church ; I could serve God there. I believe in the Episcopacy — for those that want it. (Laughter.) Let my tongue forget its cunning if I ever speak a word adverse to that Church that brooded my mother, and now broods some of the nearest blood kindred I have on earth. It is a man's own fault if he do not find salva- tion in the teachings and worship of the great Episcopal body of the world. Well, I can find no charm in the Presbyterian gov- ernment. I was for ten years a member of the Presbyterian Church, for I swore to the Confession of Faith ; but at that time my beard had not grown. (Laughter.) 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 nut oblige me to swear to the Confession of Faith. 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 moulded, although in many respects it has not the fascinations in its worship that belong to the high ecclesiastical organizations, though it makes 614 HENRY WARD BEECHER. 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 foity years as they were when it found them. A part of its veiy idea is so to meet the weakness o^ men as that they shall grow stronger ; to preach the truth and then wait till they are able to seize that 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 thcit are called 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 won't catch me reasoning with them ; 1 baptize them. So it is that I immerse, I sprinkle, and I have in some instances poured, and I never saw there was any differ- ence in the Christianity that was made. (Laughter.) They have all, for that matter, come out so that I should not know which was immersed or which was sprinkled. I believe there ought to be more unity among Congregationalists of every kind. What then ? Would you merge our conscientious views of im- mersion ? No, I would not merge them. Why cannot you im- merse and then let it alone ? Why cannot you let us sprinkle and let us alone ? The unity of Christians does not depend upon simi- larity of ordinance or methods of worship. It is a heart busi- ness. I do not believe the Millennium will see one sect, one de- nomination, any more than the perfection of civilization will sec only one great phalanstery, 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 conduct 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 man- CLOSING YEARS. 615 kind. I am not, therefore, to teach Congregationalism, I am not to teach the Baptist doctrine, I am not to teach Presbyterianism ; I am to preach ' Oh ye that are lost by reason of your sins, Je- sus Christ has found a ransom for you ; come, come, and ye shall live.' That is my message, and in that I have enthusiasm. It is not to build up one church, or another church, or to cry down one church or ano'her. Brethren, we have been trying con- science for a great while ; what have we got by it ? About one hundred and fifty denominations. There is nothing so unmanage- able as a conceited conscience. (Laughter.) Now, suj^pose we should try another thing ; suppose we should try love a little while ; suppose we should try sympathy, trust, fellowship, brotherhood, without inquisitorial power ; suppose we should let men's theologies take care of themselves, and bring this test to be?'^ upon them — what is the fruit of their personal living, and what ib the fruit of their personal teaching ? ' By their fruits shall ye 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 backbiting, nor suspicion, nor hold- ing each man to 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 denomination. 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 of 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 forme 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 the souls of my fellow-men. And as my years grow more I want to bear a testimony. I suppose I have had as 616 HENRY WARD BEECHER. many opportunities as any man here, or any living man, of wliat 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 in- fluence and power, than all 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 vo- cations which men seek, I would again choose, and with an im- petus arising from the experience of this long life, the ministry of the Gospel of Jesus Christ, for honor, for cleanliness, 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 everlasting. Brethren, I want to pray with you ; will you let me join with you in prayer ? THE PRAYER. " Dear Lord, Thou hast been very gracious to us, and through many years Thou hast brought us at last to these later days. Thou hast brought us to-day with these, Thy beloved servants, to speak of the things that pertain to Thee and Thy kingdom. We thank Thee for their good and kind thoughts of us ; we thank Thee for their confidence and their trust. But, O Lord Jesus Christ, what are we compared with Thee ? Thy name is the one name, Thy service is the one service. 0 Spirit of Love, fill us with Thine own presence ; forgive our weakness ; forgive our liv^es, that have been so imperfect that we have not known how to preach as well as we should ; forgive us, that we have cultivated the deeper emotions of the soul so little or so imperfectly as that they do not come forth as the very sound of the Gospel itself. But Thou hast forgiven it again and art always forgiving. We are poor, we are sinful, we are staggering under imperfections ; we know that ourselves, but every day we lay our head upon Thy bosom. O Jesus, there is nothing but Thee, Thou art our hope, our love. Thy patience is the author of all our patience. Thy power is the author of all our power, and now to-day we bring all that is good in us and say, ' Not unto us, not unto us, but unto Thy name.' CLOSING YEARS. 617 Dear Lord, pour Thyself out upon Thy servants here, and upon Thy handmaidens, and grant that the homes of these Thy servants may be as the very temples of God. Purge away all their ambi- tion if this be their weakness ; purge away all their combativeness if this has been the thing with which they have striven. Envy- ings and jealousies — O Lord, we would not have Thee served by such imperfect things. Give to Thy servants something of the clarity of vision, something of the purity and sweetness of Thine own nature, and may they feel more and more that it is an honor to be permitted to preach Christ at all. And if there are any that are in trials, any that are pinched in means, if there be any that feel their feebleness, that they are overshadowed by men round about them, 0 Lord, give them the heroic spirit that they may be willing to bear contumely, that they may be able to say with Thy servant of old, ' I rejoice in my necessities.' Give to them a nearer view of heaven. How soon our life flies away ! How near we are to the great land ! Our fathers are there, our mothers, our children are there ; but Thou chiefly, Jesus. We are coming, and are giad as the years go by. We would not die, and yet we are in a strait often betwixt two, having a desire to depart and be with Jesus, though it be, perhaps, needful for Thy work and Thy cause that we abide yet longer. Now let Thy Spirit be poured in pentecostal measure upon Thy dear servants. Cleanse them from their sins ; purify them inwardly and outwardly. Give them great fruit of their labor. May they never be discouraged, and may they be a voice everywhere saying to men, * This is the way, walk ye in it,' and may they walk in it themselves. Now to the God of our father, our mother, and the God of our little children, O Thou God that art our God, we praise Thee, we love Thee, we long for Thee. When shall we appear in Zion before God ? When we come, then we will cry with all Thy servants, ' Glory be to Him who shed His blood for us, and by whom we have been cleansed.' And forever and forever we will praise the Father, the Son and the Spirit. Amen." THE LAST DISCOURSE. The following is a verbatim report of the last sermon preached in Plymouth Church by Henry Ward Beecher. It was delivered on Sunday evening, February 27th, and the report was furnished G18 HENRY WARD BEECHER. by T. J, Ellinwood, the lamented pastor's official stenographer. The text was : " I am resolved what to do." — Luke 16 : 4. I read in your hearing this narrative, this parable of our Lord. The unjust steward had been accused, and rightfully, of betraying his trust and wasting that permitted to him. His master called him to an account, and he was satisfied that the end had come. And he communed wuth himself, and, as the result of the looking over all the circumstances he said, " I am resolved what to do." What he resolved to do was not very honest, but it was very shrewd. He resolved to make friends of all the creditors and all the debtors to his lord — call them up and settle with them in such a way as to the law that no obligations should accrue to him. And, although he and they cheated the master, he made his own. And the master pressed him — not Jesus, but the man that owned the property. He said to himself, " Well, that is shrewd, that is cunning, that is wise." x\nd the comment on it is, the children of this world are always wiser than the children of light. That is to say, that men that are acting for reasons are very much wiser than men attempting to act from highest moral conditions. But that I have selected is simply this : " I am resolved what to do." What, then, is the nature of the resolution ? What is the scope of it, the potency and the drawbacks ? A short consideration of these questions may throw light upon the path of many of us. Now, our good friends, making up the mind is the equivalent ; it is forming a purpose. When a man resolves he means, or should mean, to do something, and all resolutions carry, or should carry, not simply the end sought, but also the inevitable and necessary means by which the end is sought. I am resolved to cross that river by the bridge, by the boat or by swimming. But to stand on one side and resolve to be on the other without any intermedi- ate means of doing it would be folly indeed. I am resolved to go early to market. All the intermediate and implied steps of that resolution that could be carried out are included within the resolu- tion itself. A resolution is a purpose ; and, in so far as simple things Lincompounded, uncomplex, are concerned, a resolution may be executed immediately without loss of time. Indeed, the great- est number of resolutions are those in which the stroke of the CLOSING YEARS. 619 hammer and the explosion of the gun are almost without any ap- preciable lapse of time. 1 am resolved what to do. Unconscious reswlution. A grate fire, and the man needs logs about. It's the call of mind to sttp to the door and see a stranger or a friend. And he resolves to do it ; although resolution is latent in such a sense, by repetition, in making up his mind in regard to a gieat many simple impressions, the action of the brain has become so common that the time flows without any appreciable appearance. One goes in a crowd. A man would strike him. His defence is not the resolution of reflection, and yet it was in him as the result of experience and practice. And if it be a shadow it's just the same, for the shadow seems like a substance before him. And he poses himself in a ludicrous attitude, and he goes on. But the connection of the mind — the unconscious separation is there. And it all amounts to this, that a man resolves and executes at the same moment, whether he shall or shall not answer. And yet the train goes on within liim, and he reflects : And a call has come, help ! he answers ; before the echo dies he's on his feet and he's away. But these are very simple things. They are from the primary forms which afterward become more compact, running through longer periods of time, employing a great many interme- diate steps. For a man will resolve that he will go to bed, it don't take long there. To resolve that to-morrow morning he will go out and attend market, but to-morrow morning is dark and stormy, and the resolution would not come so strong when he wakes up as when he went to bed. There are a good many considerations that have come in. Some friend is there, and then the time is too late to go and come again. So he puts it off to the next morn- ing, so that between the resolution and the act one takes hold upon the other. There is a delay in intermediate history. As you grow in life and in society it has become more complex. Civili- zation has grown in complexity. So the things that you will do or should do are in danger. A resolution to do ever so much — it is something difiicult from the first resolve. Resolution means, then, a purpose, a will itself. And it includes in it all the inter- mediate and indispensable intermediate steps. Some resolutions execute themselves immediately, some with some delay, some with long delay, some with many subordinate resolutions that carry out G20 HENRY WARD REECHER. ^ the primary one, and a man may resolve at a critical moment that which will determine the whole career of his life ; yea, and deter- mine in any one single final moment that which will take the whole of his life to carry into effect. When my father was yet a lad (he was brought up substantially by an uncle) he had in him all that was necessary to make him what he was in his professional life, but he didn't know it. He was careless, he was heedless, he was very good externally, and so Uncle Otbenton, going out one morning, found that he was out late with the horse the night before visiting some young com- panion. The bridle was thrown there on the barn floor, and the horse turned in without a halter. He said, "Oh, well, Lyman will never make a farmer ;" and so, talking in the orchard with him one day, he says, " Lyman, how would you like to go to col- lege ?" No answer. They went on working all day. The next day about the same hour, as they worked together in the orchard, Lyman said, " I should like to go, sir." (Applause.) That set- tled it. And in that liking to go there was a purpose that shaped differently his whole life. It never gave out ; it branched in every direction, bore fruit, and finally made him what he was. That was the starting-point. He made a tolerably good minister and a tolerably good father. (Applause.) So, then, a man may form a resolution at that period, but yet with infinite consequences in its development. It may include in itself a longer process. It may include the actual scope of a man's life, and it is upon that subordinate resolution will be very successful to carry out the great primary resolution which a man makes ; that is, if a man is to be a lawyer, he is not going to be a blacksmith, nor a sailor, nor a soldier, so that there is the resolution of expunction. It turns him away from those things inconsistent with the first ele- ment. If he is to be a lawyer there must be the kind of diction, and the professional diction, and all the additions which are pre- requisite of pressing him to the great point of beginning the prac- tice. If these are wrapped up in the first determination I will be a lawyer, I have determined. don't make him one. It starts him along the train of evidences that are necessary to make him a lawyer. A young man may stand on the threshold of life. He may resolve that he will see the world ; and the man that means to see everything in the world will probably see a good deal under CLOSING YEARS. 621 the world by and by he won't care about seeing, A man may re- solve, on the other hand, " I believe in honesty." It is the best principle. Bat it is better than nothing to say it is the best policy. All good policy is principle. All good principle is policy. A man may say, I am determined to be an honest, upright man. That at once separates between men. He won't associate with certain men ; he will associate with certain athers. He won't follow certain things — callings. The resolutions of life develop between one and another. Resolution is a great thing — a great thing. Now, there are a great many people that do not seem to form a resolution. They are reckless ; all their thoughts run through them and are wasted. There are some men who are like a well. They hold what they have got. And there are a great many whose thoughts are like this ; that are going everywhere and don't know that they are going anywhere, and are expecting. Then there is a great deal of difference in the power of men to form resolutions. Some men swing under a sterling, strong purpose — when once they resolve they never flinch. They never know any hour of backsliding. They make less account at one time than another. They never turn back once ; having put their hand to the plough they never turn back again. Others forget it. They are not stiff enough to stand against the wind that shall come against them. Quality of resolutions which men make are of very great importance. And when a man has no sufficient support in his own will, he is the man that needs to associate himself with those that are a support to him. Even the very woman, when the wind blows so that she can't make headway against it, sup- ports herself by a fence that is safe, knowing that will hold her until the lull. And as it is in the body, so it is in regard to this. There are some persons, left to themselves, wavering ; there are sometimes very good reasons. Sometimes the purpose was formed in a moment of excitement. To-day a man may be susceptible of one class of effects that are being produced, and then form resolu- tions, but immediately some others come in between him and it. And he is just as susceptible of that, and the consequent state of mind alters the first. And there are many people, women, of that fickleness .ind facial changeableness. To-day a man is under the necessity of standing to his purpose under that influence of things, but by and by outbreaks or politics bring up to his mind G22 HENRY WARD BEECHER. certain facts, and all his mode is changed, and those early agree- able senses of taste are no longer turned upon him under abortion. He has such consular ailments they arc almost persuaded to be Christian and they fill up. But going home among merry com- pany and the defiling business incidents following upon them. We are like the snow at this time of the year, falls one day and disappears the next. So that there is this changeableness that is in men. They have felt the degrees of power come from the na- ture of the mind. There is, however, this idea not to be neglected — the distinction between a man's willing and his wishing. A great many people think that a wish is a resolution, but it's gone into proverb that " if wishes were horses, then beggars might ride." A man wishes he was rich ; but he's too lazy, he never will be. A man wishes he knew more ; probably he never will. He's lazy. A man wishes he could have influence in the circles in which society moves, but he stops. He will never have wisdom and patience to do it. And so men stand over against the great objects in life. Men should be respected, but they are not re- spected. They wish for that which will insure. That would be a purpose. They wish the thing without taking the intermediate step. So men are fools all over the world. Wishing, wishing, wishing. They must be fools when they be- lieve that wishing is some sort of resolution toward competency. When men came to Him and said, " Lord, we will follow Thee whithersoever Thou goest," He said, " You don't know that I am destined to suffer poverty, persecution, death. You think I am going out a royal person, and that you will have pleasures of honor and of gold." But suffer me first — there is a demi -devil. I would be a Christian, if — ah, that settles it ! I want to be a Christian, but — yes, that settles it again. And so He was surrounded by hundreds of persons wishing, wishing, wishing, with various de- grees of excitability in them, and would have nothing to do with them. " Let him take up his cross and follow Me, whosoever would be My disciple." There is something to do more than to wish. There is a great distinction between wishing and willing. You wish to be a Christian, do you — will be one ? Your wish- ing is tantalizing. Your will of help completes the man, whether you regard it as a duty or as a means of greatest satisfaction. That is, we were -made to be Christians. Being Christians is situ- CLOSING YEARS. 623 ply being yourself in those relations to yourself and to your fel- low-men and to your God for whicli you were Christians. Did you ever undertake to take apart a watch ? And that is very easy. Did you ever undertake to put it together again ? That is not so easy. You don't know which screw goes in — which wheel goes in first. But one thing is perfectly clear, and that is, tliat nothing else will fit together but that for which the watch was made. And each wheel is just entitled to one space and to one function. But if you can bring them together with intent of the maker, it will perform. A man has definite resolutions he makes by special re- flection of his animal nature and meaning. Take the servant and not his inaster and the moral elements and modes are made to live with him. And there is only one way that men can live together. Kindness, love (justice means love ; justice would not signify the less). And we have a distinct and unmistakable revelation in Jesus in the Old Testament. We know we have got to love our fellow- men. "Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself." Self-love is mutually on top. And then we know perfectly well that we are affianced to higher beings than men. A clean life in all. We know all these resolutions to ourselves and in ourselves. And this, I say, is reasonable, that we should endeavor to live under this type upon which we are created. It is reasonable. A great many people go about saying it is reasonable for a man to be damned, because he could not gulp and swallow all the dominie said and all the pretended facts. Christianity means living in those relations for which we were created, harmonizing it to ourselves, to our relations, to our fellow-men and the invisible and the future. I say this is reasonable. I say more than that, that it has in it the greatest amount of inherent happiness. For, although a man may be very true to his patience, taking the average and the whole of life, he loses rather than gains. Loses now, but suffers then. A man may think that because he runs through a desperate period and then reforms that the desperation is all through. No, no. Causes sink under a man subterraneously, as it were. And there is many a man who is crippled at forty-five years of age from the misconduct of twenty years. Yet there are seventeen years they lay their eggs, and these eggs lie incubating in the ground for seventeen years, when they hatch and come forth. A man may by evil deeds lay the eggs that will hatch twenty years after that 624 HENRY WARD BEECIIER. time. And as a general truth I think it is demonstrable by actual observation and experience. To devotional frames of mind thou shalt love the Lord thy God, and thy neighbor as thyself. Therefore, you must love yourself. This shows it, not by membership toward the lower and the coarse, even not himself, but toward his whole self ; the original under- standing of moral power and elements ; the spiritual in him. Now, when a man has this presented to him, and is urged to enter upon a Christian life as the only honorable one ; the only one that has the greatest satisfaction in it ; the only one without cares in it ; the height of duty and of gratitude toward God. Plow variously men meet that life to come ! IIow many that see in yourself, looking over the sphere of life and life to come, I am resolved what to do, bearing in mind what a resolution means, what it executes ! IIow many men can say to-night, Yes, I am resolved what to do ! I am afraid there will be few that will say, I want to be a Christian. That is what they are after. Men may say on the other hand, I hope some time to be a Christian. I feci sometimes as if I would like to be one, I wish I was one. Just as a- lazy one wishes he had the products of industry. How many men are there to-night that can say, I am resolved what to do — I am resolved to be a Christian ? Are you then resolved at once to become a Christian ? to begin to become a Christian at once ? In one sense, no. In another sense, yes. No boy ever learned a trade at a blow. But I can begin just the same. No man ever became a scholar by resolution ; but he never can be- come one without a resolution. As it is complex, a constantly repeating one, I will begin to-night. I am resolved as far as I live and as far as I know my way. I am determined, God knows it. I am determined to work my life hereafter on my own princi- ples. I am resolved to be a Christian man. Now, that is my condition. This resolution don't mean according to this church or theology. It simply means in itself, I will regulate my life in- side and out according to the principles laid down for you by the Lord Jesus Christ. Isn't that a very simple thing to do ? What does it carry with it ? It carries nothing in the face of this. I will therefore begin by calling away everything that will stand in the way of this resolution. May I continue in a wicked way ? I will begin as a part of the fulfilment of this resolution — I will CLOSING YEARS. 625 stop. That is the way of the repentance which John began and Christ continued. " Repent, for the kingdom of heaven is at hand." I am going to live as a Christian man or M'oman, and if there be that which I know to be wrong, obviously wrong, in the incidental weaknesses and frailties of life, I am going to follow in Christ. And then, in the next place, the resolution to be a Christian — it is not that I will be a Christian next year, or by and by, or on my death-bed, but I am going to begin at once, as far as I know how. Are you ready to begin your Christian life by asking in sincerity, by asking God to be merciful ? Give me your life, not to say your help. There are a great many precious thoughts. Is there sincerity in you ? I would to God that I may have both the re- futing and sustaining power. Are you ready to begin that ChriS' tian life by opening the Word of God and reading a cKapter, not a verse or two, every day, but to make Ilim the man of your counsel ? When any scheme is formed in New York there is al- ways a lawyer there, and the organizers never take a single step without consulting him, and he is by all the time. It is a com- plex thing. A great deal depends upon it and they can't afford to go wrong. Are you willing to take the New Testament and see what it says about pride, and all ills and evil spf^aking, and all self-consciousness in its crisp mode ? Are you willing to look to- night ? When is there any occasion to thank anybody when they see what kind of an interpretation they have ? Are you willing to take the Bible just as a shipmaster takes a ship, who, when he leaves the last shore-light and takes his direction, never says, " Where is my instrument?" Are you willing to begin a Chris- tian course and voyage by giving to the Word of God, to history's sake, what is expected of you ; what you are to expect or reject ; what is sensible ; what is the resolve, according to a practical way of resolution ? What is the other way ? There is a father and mother : I believe they were Christians. Indeed, a man's mother is oftentimes more to him — there are a great many men that are held and gone forth by the memories of their mother. Are you willing to take all the advantages ? Are you going to begin it now ? You have been brought up in Christian knowledge from your very cradle. You have known all these things. But what Christian life and duty is, there is not a man here that needs any 38 626 HENRY WARD BEECHER. additional inspiration. But can a man in resolution come into a state of resolution ? Can a man, by simply saying " I will," fail ? No, no. A man will say, " I can command love." Advantages to mankind command the causes of love. They lie within your reach. But I am resolved so earnestly that I am going to avail myself of all the light of social life that I can and of all the Chris- tian institutions that are necessary for me. Well, ah ! That is practice, and that is his excuse. Are you going to say, " Well, I will see about it " ? Oh, no. Yet in the West when the times aic hard they give a note payable within four months. They pay one note by giving another. And there are multitudes of people that form a resolution in that way after the second note is due. They may say, " Well, I have made up my mind, and I am going to be a Christian as soon as I get ready," When are you going to get ready ? IVs quieting your conscience and your reason now by promising yourself that by and by you will take that step ; it is a resolution that merely means a non-fulfilment of duty, when they are worn out, deceased in the service of self-conscience, and in old age and upon their death-bed. I should think myself very mean if, in the summer, I should shell out the peas and send the pods to my own brother. That is what men mean to do with God. They mean to live in youth after their ambition ; in old age they hope to switch on the right side and get into heaven. When you come to examine such conduct there is not a savage that would not say it was infamous. The different books, and the ministra- tions of God through all the channels of nature, and the kindness of God through Jesus Christ. And the man deliberately says we will live all the rest that there is in life, and when we are no longer any use to ourselves, and when we are going out we will live so as to get into heaven. Two deacons of a church had been warm friends, and yet one day theygot into a dispute until they came positively to hate each other. And one Sunday morning, the dominie, going by one of the elders, heard him muttering to him- self, " He will go to hell, he will go to hell." The old dom- inie steps up to him and says, " My dear brother, he won't go to hell." " Yes, he will go to hell." " AVell, ray dear fellow, he may repent, you know." " Well, he's just mean enough to do it." Oh, that's yon! That is exactly the condition in which some of you are. You moan to wait to get into heaven. You CLOSING YEARS. 62? are just mean enough to do it. If you have made up your mind honestly that you are endeavoring to do it, He will help you from day to day and from month to month, and from year to year, growing brighter and brighter. Is there any man here that can say in regard to the past that he will resolve that everything he has done has been a detriment to him ? Resolve what to do by making a resolve to live a higher life, a nobler ideal. I am determined by the help of God that I will live in such a way that I shall live in heaven. And if there is any man, don't wait until to-morrow morning. Register your vow to- night. Go home and tell God of it. Go home and tell your wife of it. That is the very thing you don't dare to do. Because, when a man once commits himself he feels ashamed to go back, and if you do it's because you have not made up your mind. When a man is determined that he will live a Christian life, he will be willing to say to all that are around about him, " I am going to try, and have made np my mind to try." And if, with your own language, you will enter upon your journey, the time past in which I have served the will of the flesh sufficed, and now, to-night, I have determined that I will begin, with the help of God, to live a Christian life. Are there any of you that are willing to make that resolve ? God help you. For a while it will be a troublesome endeavor, for a little while, and then easier and easier and bringing encouragement and joyfulness. CHAPTER III. LAST HOURS DEATH FUNERAL SERVICES. Mr. Beecher's European trip appeared not to fatigue, but to recuperate and inspire him. Returning after an expeiience of constant lecturing, preaching, and visiting, which might well have been expected to have exhausted his strength, he took up his labors in the fall of 1886 with fresh zest and vigor. Arriving on Sunday morning, and landing too late to make it possible for him to preach that forenoon, he visited each one of the Sunday-schools connected with Plymouth Church in the afternoon, at a time when most men who suffer with sea-sickness, as he in- variably does, would have been resting from the fatigue of the voyage. He first met with his people at the usual Friday evening prayer-meeting, and in an informal account of his experiences told them that the reception given him abroad had put new heart into him ; that he had been thinking that his work was nearly over, but had come back to them with a faith that there were some years of Christian service left in him yet. The first of December his wife was taken seriously ill, and for six weeks he sedulously watched and tended her, allowing no one else to serve as her nurse, and accepting even from other members of the family only such assist- ance as was indispensably necessary. His unremitting care had its reward in her restored health. Meanwhile, the persistence of some of his friends, and an offer of publication from Charles L. Webster & Co., induced him to take up the long-delayed purpose to complete his unfinished "Life of Christ;" he brought his proofs and manuscript notes together and began a fresh mining in the libraries and bookstores. He agreed, also, as soon as the "Life of Christ" was finished, to begin his "Autobiography." CLOSING YEARS. C29 Desk work was always difficult to Mr. Beecher ; his thoughts moved with electric rapidity ; the bondage of the slower-moving pen was irksome ; but the mood had at last come upon him, and he was taking hold of the " Life of Christ" with great expectation, and with, for him, large hopefulness. To his friend, Dr. Joseph Parker, of London, he wrote in 1887 : " I have my snug room upstairs, and am working cozily and every day on my ' Life of Christ,' which, like the buds of spring, is beginning to swell, like the returning birds is beginning to sing, like the grass is be- ginning to grow, and is already verj' green ! But I am hopeful." Mrs. Beecher' s health was so far restored by the last of February that her plans were perfected for her usual spring trip to her orange grove in Florida. Her trunks w'ere packed, and she was to sail Tuesday, March 8tli. Mr. Beecher was apparently in the best of health and spirits. He had refused all lecture engagements, that he might devote himself to his literary labors. It is true that he was doing an amount of work which would have been remark- able in the case of any man even of much younger years ; he was preaching twice on the Sabbath, exercising a general pastoral superintendence over one of the largest churches in the country^, writing every week a letter which appeared simultaneously in his old journal, the Christian Union, and in several secular papers, and carrying on simultaneously the mental preparations for two books, the " Life of Christ" and his own " Autobiography." But he was not burdened ; and it seemed as true of him then as it had been in the spring preceding, when he answered a friend who had asked him "If he were going to Europe for his health?" *' Health ! I have so much health now, that I don't know what to do with it !" The end came suddenly, unexpectedly, almost pain- lessly. He died, as he often expressed the wish to die, with the harness on. The account of his last hours has been communicated by Mrs. Beecher to a representative of the Brooklyn Eagle, with the request that he write the account out for publication, and we cannot do better than to transfer this authoritative account from the columns of that journal to our pages. " Thursday, March 3d, was Henry Ward Bcccher's last day of 630 HENRY WARD BEECHER. health and full consciousness on the earth. The day before, Wed- nesday, March 2d, in the evening, his wife said to him, " ' Father, can you leave off your writing to-morrow ? I want you to go with me to New York.' " ' Yes, mother, I will, whether I can or not ; what do you want me to do ? ' " The two called one another father and mother when speak- ing to or of one another, as the habit of long-married lovers is. The appellations of the children thus become woven in with the habits of talk of the parents. The parental feeling was so strong in both that its form of speech expressed the protective sense of each toward the other. " In answer to his question Mrs. Beecher told her husband that she wanted him to select with her furniture for the parlors of the church and other things mentioned. They went to New York early Thursday morning, wandered and shopped there at will all day, and got home in good time for tea, Mr. Beecber taking his usual short nap before that meal. ' It was the happiest day of my life,' remarked Mrs. Beecher. ' I never knew my husband so lively, tender, and joyous before, or not in a long time. His mind, heart, and health were at their best. He overflowed with talk, both humorous and serious. " I am so glad, mother," said he, " that you are well enough again to interest yourself in church work. The fair we have had got all the ladies together. It gave them something to do. Each one's gift or work or help was equal in spirit and value. The proceeds were enough to newly furnish the parlors. The event will lead to social meetings again. If there has been any apathy or hardness of feeling among the ladies it has been removed. I want you to share my work. You can do much of it that I cannot do or do nearly so well as you. I want Plymouth to be again as eminently a social church as it was in other years. You should meet the ladies frequently. They love you, and they love the church, and they love to please and co-operate with you and work for the church. It will make lis both young again." ' " In such talk, and with pleasant work, the two passed the last day he was to see with fulness of consciousness, " That night Mr. Beecher dined with the family, played back- gammon in the sitting-room, waited for a couple that wanted to CLOSING YEARS. 631 be married, went out on an errand, and returned a few minutes before nine. At nine he said, " ' I guess I'll go to bed.' " ' AVhy, father, what does that mean ? Is there anything the matter with you ?' asked Mrs, Beecher. '•'Nothing,' he smilingly answered, 'only I'm tired. I've done a good deal of work with you to-day.' " ' But you've been tired before and never retired until about ten,' rejoined his wife. " ' Well, I guess I'll go to bed anyway,' he said, and he did. "lie bade those assemhled good-night, went upstairs with a firm tread, and, according to what she further had said to him, Mrs. Beecher went upstairs a quarter of an hour later, not intend- ing then to retire, but to write near him in the adjoining room. When Mrs. Beecher went upstairs she found Mr. Beecher' sound asleep on his right side, his head resting on his right hand. She was surprised, for it was his habit to undress gradually, to sit in his shirt-sleeves and read a little, to talk awhile on the events of the day. and to go to bed about an hour after going upstairs. How&ver, Mrs. Beecher found him sleeping so tranquilly that she did not disturb him. She wrote in the adjoining room until 1 A.M. Then, finding her husband still asleep, she concluded to sleep in the room in which she had been writing, instead of, as her habit was, with him, so as not to disturb him. She passed her hand over his forehead and felt of liis left hand. The flesh was warm and natural and his sleep was as the sleep of a little child. " Some hours after retiring Mrs. Beecher was aroused by a sound in her husband's room. She at once ran to his side and found him sutfering from extreme nausea. The attack was long and hard, but he experienced entire relief. It was between four and five in the morning. " ' Father, what's the matter ? ' she asked. " ' Mother, nothing, only a sick headache,' he said. "'Henry, you never had a headache in your life before. Something must be wrong,' she anxiously rejoined. " ' No ; it's only a sick headache. I shall be better,' he re- plied. " ^^rs. Beecher wiped her husband's face and hands, removed 632 HENRY WARD BEECHER. the traces of the nausea, and smoothed and arranged his pillows, While she was doing that he said, " ' You are not by me to-night. Well, dear, go to sleep again, and don't stay up in your bare feet.' " When the lady returned after this from placing a towel on the rack and approached the bed where Mr. Beecher was she was again surprised to find he had instantly fallen into a profound sleep. Nevertheless she did not disturb him, but went again to bed in the adjoining room. Mrs. Beecher, as her habit is, arose and dressed at 5 A.M. She noticed her husband still sleeping. She resumed her writing, and was surprised that neither the rising bell nor the breakfast bell waked him. It had never been so before. " The family of children and grandchildren trooped down the stairs that Friday morning, joking, laughing, and chasing one another on their way to breakfast. Mrs. Beecher descended last, with a heavy heart, but hopeful that slumber meant recuperation. Entering the room, she narrated what has been told, and expressed her apprehension. " ' Nonsense, mother,' said Colonel Beecher. ' You know the Beechers all cure themselves in sleep. I wouldn't waken him.' " ' There's not much likelihood of my waking him if the noise you all made coming down-stairs didn't doit,' she resumed. Mrs. Beecher then asked her daughter-in-law what Mr. Beecher had eaten for supper the night before, ' Nothing but six roasted clams,' was that lady's reply. There were six sent to each plate. Mr. Beecher did not send up his plate a second time. As he was accustomed to and fond of that dish, it was agreed that that did not account for his nausea. " Mr. Beecher slept through the day. His wife went to his side several times, but did not disturb him. Near four o'clock in the afternoon, ten hours after-his attack, she sent her maid with a note to Dr. Searle, asking him to come to see her, telling him that something was the matter with Mr. Beecher, she did not know what, and warning him to say nothing of it to the others till he had seen her. " The doctor came and told Mrs. Beecher that prolonged sleep was a habit and a hopeful sign of her husband in sickness. They went to where he was. Dr. Searle shook him by the shoulder, saying. CLOSING YEARS. 633 ** ' Dominie, wake up ! ' " He slowly wakened, gazea at his wife and the doctor, and the former said, " ' Father, you must get up and dress. It's afternoon. You'll have to go to prayer-meeting. Do you hear me ?' " ' Yes, I hear ; but 1 do not want to get up. I'll not go to prayer-meeting to-night. Tell them — ' Without finishing the sentence he fell asleep at once. Dr. Searle was then of the opinion that it was a severe bilious attack. He and Mrs. Beecher were not surprised at some thickness and slowness of speech. Mr. Beecher always spoke in that way on first coming out of deep sleep. "The doctor left to return at seven. At seven, Mrs. Beecher told him she had tried to warm her husband's hands and feet with shawls and blankets, but they were cold and she could not warm them. At this Dr. Searle became grave. Going to the bed he with difiiculty again aroused Mr. Beecher, and said to him, " ' Raise your hand ! Can you raise your hand ? ' " ' I — can — raise — it — high — enough — to — hit — you,' slowly came from the smiling lips, in deep, guttural tones. " He tried to raise his hand, but could hardly raise it at all. " ' Please put out your tongue,' said the doctor. " The patient with difficulty put it out, but only a little way. " ' More ! Further ! All !' said Dr. Searle, quickly. " The effort to comply was a failure. " Mr. Beecher's gaze was fixed on his wife and on the doctor's face. His wife held his left hand in her right hand. As the good Dr. Searle's countenance knit with the grief that confirmed his apprehensions, Mi'. Beecher closed his eyes, and gave the hand of his wife a long, strong, loving and earnest pressure. It was the realization of the inevitable. It was farewell. He never opened his eyes again. His sleep thereafter was constant. His breathing became stertorious, but quietly so. At intervals up to Saturday morning he would, under a strong call of the voice and pi^ssure of the hand, return or seem to return a pressure which was interpreted to be recognition. From Saturday morning until the end were silence, sleep, heavy but regular breathing, and unconsciousness. " Several times they thought him dying when he slept, but waning nature would rally in sleep. Mrs. Beecher held his hand in hers 634 HENRY WARD BEECHER. continually. When the end approached all the household were gathered. It was their unanimous wish that none but themselves and the physician should be present, hut that wish could not be entirely etJected. When the end came all of the Beecher blood stood or knelt around. Not one of them shed a tear or gave ex- pression to a sob — then and there. The supreme self-control was an obedience to Mr. Beecher's often expressed hope and wish that around his bed of release not tears should fall, but the feeling should prevail as those who think of a soul gone to its crowning." This end came on Tuesday morning at half-past nine o'clock ; only a few friends in addition to the members of the family were in the house at the time. A policeman at the door kept all in- truders out, but Brooklyn had reverential respect for the last hours of the preacher, and there were few intruders. A little throng of newspaper reporters, with note-book and pencil in hand, surrounded the front door, and every one who came out was but- tonholed and questioned, but there was little or nothing to tell until the spirit passed away. Instantly some of the reporters fled down the street with fleet footsteps, and before half-past ten extras with news of Mr. Beecher's death, and descriptions, more or less imaginary, of the last scene, which no reporter witnessed, were being called by the newsboys five miles away in the upper part of New York City. So quietly had death approached that the members of his own family felt no alarm, not even enough to send for a physician, until Friday afternoon, and it was not until Saturday forenoon that even they fully realized the approach of death. The news did not reach the public through the ordinary evening editions of the Satur- day journals ; not until Sunday morning did the public learn that the great preacher lay dying, and then he had already passed beyond consciousness. No one could have preached in Plymouth pulpit that Sabbath morning, and no one could well have listened 1o preaching. Happily it was communion Sunday ; the sermon was omitted, and the hour was devoted to the administration of the communion, the great congregation breaking in upon the hush of this solemn service with many sobs. On Sunday, Monday, and Tuesday evenings Plymouth Church lecture-room and its adjoin- ing parlors were crowded, while simple prayer-meeting services were conducted, participated in by various members of the church. CLOSING YEARS. 635 It was a noticeable fact that no one prayed for the pastor's recov- ery ; it was accepted by all as a fact unalterable, that the time of his going home had come ; and not one of all those that loved him would have called him back. Ten minutes had scarcely elapsed after the announcement that Mr. Beecher had drawn his last breath, before a wreath of roses ■was hung upon the front door, where ordinarily crape is hung, as an emblem of the death within. It w^as a characteristic and sym- bolic fact. Mr. Beecher believed, with a perfect religious faith, that " the sting of death is sin, and the sting of sin is the law," and that God gives to His children victory from both through our Lord Jesus Christ. He had always inveighed against the cus- tomary crape as a pagan emblem ; " Provide flowers for me, not crape, when I am gone," he had often said. The Friday night preceding his attack he had ridden with the Rev. Lindsay Parker, of St. Peter's Episcopal Church, from a great temperance-meeting in New Tork, and Mr. Parker had asked him a question. " Tell me, w^on't you, frankly," he said, " are you really glad to be get- ting near the end of it all ? Do you like to think that your great work, your fame, the excitement, the hurrah, and all that, will soon be done with forever ? Wouldn't you, if you might, begin again, and go through it once more, and have 3'ou really no shrink- ing from death ?" " No, no," Mr, Beecher replied, " I wouldn't have it otherwise. God knows I'm glad to be getting near home. I've had a long, full life ; my work is almost done. I've enjoyed the world, and life, and my work — yes, I've enjoyed it all." Then he paused an instant and added, in a voice that was evidently ut- tering the deep feeling of a full heart, " Not for that I would be unclothed, but clothed upon, that mortality might be swallowed up of life." His family, his friends, and his church had learned from hi in well this lesson, and for them in some measure, at least, as for him in full measure the last enemy was already destroyed. In all the subsequent services, death was welcomed with flowers, not with crape, and the tears of the people were irradiated with smiles. The funeral services were as he would have had them of the sim- plest description. The Rev. Charles H. Hall, rector of Trinity Church, Brooklyn, and Mr. Beecher had long been intimate friends, and there had been an understanding between them that, 636 HENRY WARD BEECHER. whoever should die first, the other should officiate at the fu- neral. Thursday morning, March 10th, the simple and beautiful service of the Episcopal. Church was read by Dr. Charles H. Hall at the house, accompanied with a brief and simple address, which was little more than a personal tribute from a personal friend. " There was no man," he said, " whom I have ever met or heard of, or whose works I have ever read, who impressed me so deeply with the inspiration of the Holy Spirit ; he was a man of men, the most manly man I ever met, but he was also a man of God, in a pre-eminent sense of the word." At the close of this service the coffin was removed to the church, guarded by a detachment of the Thirteenth Regiment of State Militia, a Brooklyn regiment of which Mr. Beecher had been the chaplain. The church had been meanwhile draped, but not with black. Evergreens and palms covered the somewhat barren walls of Plymouth Church ; the draping being illuminated by white callas. The coffin itself was entirely covered with flowers — lilies-of-the-valley, maiden-hair fern, and smilax ; the pulpit and the chair which Mr. Beecher used were abloom with the floral symbols of life and immortality. By half-past eleven o'clock in the morning all was ready for the admission of the public, and by this time a crowd had gathered, patiently and quietly waiting for admission. From that hour until ten at night the throng of people passed in to take a last look at the remains. The weather was raw and cold, but at times the long procession reached over a half of a mile away, moving slowly and steadily on, and when at ten the doors were closed there were many who were turned away. Within, a few members of the church and intimate personal friends sat in the pews listen- ing, looking, musing and conversing with one another in subdued tones. Volunteers furnished simple and appropriate music, some- times vocal, sometimes only from the organ, while the body of the great orator lay in front of the pulpit, which had been his national platform, embowered with flowers, . the air tremulous with music, and the people passing by in unbroken lines to bid him farewell. For twelve hours he thus lay amid the dearest objects of his love — flowers, music, and his friends. The public services were held on Friday. Plymouth Church could not accommodate a tithe of those who desired by their attendance to do honor to the great preacher. By direction of the CLOSING YEARS. G37 city government tlie public offices in Brooklyn were closed ; the courts and the public and private schools were also closed, and business was suspended during the hours occupied by the funeral services. Four churches in the vicinity of Plymouth Church were opened and all were crowded. Had double the number of churches been opened, they would all have been filled. Dr. Talmage, at the Presbyterian Church, said that the Roman Coliseum, holding eighty thousand people, would not have been large enough to ac- commodate all who wished to attend the funeral rites. The access to Plymouth Church was guarded by the police. Tickets had been issued to the members of the church, and to a limited number of non-members who had especial claims to be present. Only those having tickets were permitted to pass through the outer cordon of police. Yet, in spite of these precautions, at a quarter before ten the church was filled. Distinguished men who came later than this, including Senator Evarts and two professors from Amherst College, had the greatest difficulty in securing admission. Among those who attended the service were several Catholic clergymen. The family of Mr. Beecher was not present. They had come to the church at eight o'clock to take their last leave of the dead. The services at Plymouth Church were conducted as those at the house had been by Dr. Charles H. Hall, who read portions of the Episcopal service, and delivered a touching and appropriate address which will be found elsewhere in this volume. Then the congregation formed in line to take a last farewell look of the well-known face. The church doors were opened and the public admitted, and the stream of the day before began, only in in- creased magnitude. At times, on Friday, it reached from the church nearly down to Fulton Ferry, about three-quarters of a mile distant. The total number that passed through the church was by actual count found to be nearly one hundred thousand. It was not a sight-seeing crowd. From the pews in Plymouth Church I watched this scene both on Thursday and Friday. There was no curious gazing about the church, and no careless conversa- tion in the out-going. The procession was one of men and women touched as by a personal grief. Early on Saturday morn- ing the body was taken to the cemetery, accompanied only by a few intimate friends ; there was no procession and no pageantry. The body was temporarily laid in a receiving vault filled with 638 HENRY WARD BEECHER. abundant flowers by anticipating friends. The great preacber rests from his labor, but his works do follow him. DR. HALL S ADDRESS AT THE FUNERAL. The hand that rests so still yonder laid aside the pen over a page of the unfinished " 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 revelation. Possibly, as the spirit fled away to be with Christ, whom he had been serving, the full knowledge came to him of that shoreless ocean of eternal life, which is to know God and Jesus Christ whom He hath sent. That is the beatific vision, the love of Christ which passeth knowledge. We dwell on one tiny bay of it here and dream about it. The departed saints of God have already put out on its immeasurable spaces, and learned that the life of Christ is never finished. It is the one Word of God which is ever being spoken — echoing again and again, on and on with ceaseless reverberations, down the centuries. If there was one thing that stirred the heart that now rests from its labors more than any other, that has marked his life and makes his memory precious to us now, it was his many-sided utterances of a Christ living, as going about among men, a Master who first and last asks us to believe in Him rather than to believe what others say about Him. The radical question of this age has been, " Is there a faculty of illuminated reason to recognize a living Christ, who can talk to us, and by the great communication of His mind and Spirit directly lead us into all truth ?" As monarchies and hereditary institutions, and, at last, African slavery have fallen to the dust, the question gathers voice and insists upon an answer. It w'll not be put off by any compromises with past orders and insti- tutions, but renews itself at every turn, echoes in every advance in science or art, comes up in every development of literature and so- cial progress. " Is there a faith in a Christ behind the conscious- ness of the individual, that can be to him the very Word of God, the illuminated, mandatory conscience ?" In a country that dreams as yet of a government of the people by the people and for the people, that question is inevitable, and even if it should CLOSING YEARS. G39 send the sword among us for a wliile in the effort for peace, it must be answered. It is not an accident then altogether that the man whose life has heen moulded by that question and its possible answers should liave paused on the unfinished volume of the " Life of Christ." He has been a man of the people, Christward. We remind you, that, though the English-speaking race to-day mourns his call and recognizes his loss, Americans feel that he has been a great leader or adviser in the guidance of all manner of sub- stantial interests, though the Legislature of the State has paid him an unusual honor — of adjourning-— as his right, though the presses and divines and orators of all degrees are trying to compass the miglity theme in glowing words, in words of exulting grief that we have had him with us so long — and have lost him — yet that, as he lies there so quiet, we may look at him as one who has been tlirough all and in all things an apostle of one supreme thought, a preacher of the everlasting Gospel of the ever-living Christ. His word to us has been : " Not mine to look where cherubim And seraphs may not see, But nothing can be good in Him Which evil is in me." You who knew him best — you who have listened to him here in this church, know well that, first, last and always, in no barren or dreaming sense, his life has been absorbed in this work and hid with Chiist in God. In the prayers which he breathed out here for forty years so simply, you have been hearing an inner echo as if it had come out of the heart of Jesus. In his ordinary teaching, in lectures and sermons, the one thought in them has been to lead you to believe, not something about Christ, but to believe in Himself. In his intellect, his heart, his common life — wherever we, his neighbors, have felt him — he has been a witness to the presence of a Word of God, the light that lightens every man that Cometh into this American world, that cometh into this Brooklyn life — that cometh within reach of the testimonies of this platform. Perhaps some would have wished him to have shown more tender care of the withes that bound him, but God has sent him the fire that burned them, and it was not for him to stay its power. Men talk occasionally of his lack of a theological system, 640 HENRY WARD BEECHER. of quotations and learned references and courtesies to the authoritative erudition of past ages. But the living Christ is always greater than divinities or creeds. The cry is as old as Christianity, " If we let this man thus alone the Romans will come and destroy our city." Jesus to the Pharisees had never learned letters, and yet the common people heard Hira gladly. As in his war on slavery there were few persuasive authorities, individual or ecclesiastical, to go back to and set in array, and he could only fall back on a living Christ, as Seward did on a " higher law." So the undertone of this life here has been a faith in Christ, a faith filled with New England sap and silicates, a faith freed by the tonic airs of wild prairies and vigor- ously set to work here on every department of human life in which the Creator may be imagined to take an interest. Please note that we are here to " bury him, not to praise him." My opinion may be indulged that the one fact about him, which endures in that life into which he has no>v gone, was his fidelity to the great law of faith, which in its last analysis means that he has taken his part in making the life of Christ a reality. He would be the first to allow that in this work there is a law that reverses to the eye all worldly modes of comparison. " The last shall be first and the first last." The poorest serving girl that has caught the meaning of his preaching and hid her hard life in Christ's won- drous love, and now meets her spiritual teacher in Paradise, finds him gladly confessing his wonder at their surroundings — as being, like her, " a sinner saved by grace." If the life of Christ is never finished then we may consent to go to all manner of teachers for instruction about it, and wade through all manner of learned wisdom, and accept for trial all manner of hereditary experiment, so as to know all that we may ?bout Him, but then to cast them all aside in His presence when that light that shone on Saul of Tarsus comes blinding down on us, and to ask, *' Lord, what wilt Thou have me to do ?" This is my thought of him to-day. This single chaplet I would put upon his coffin. He lived, moved and had his being in the Word of God, on its cisatlantic side and spoken in its American accent. The poor, weary souls who have accepted this Gospel at his hands have rejoiced with the peace which the world does not give, and, thank God ! cannot take awav. CLOSING YEARS. 641 Is the life of Christ ever finished ? Is not always the last volume lying in sheets, wanting the last touch — always receiving the newest revelations of its oldest meanings ? Give a glance at His history. St. Luke, the most scholarly of the Evangelists, sup- posed that he had finished it once — but now we hear from him, " The former treatise, 0 Theophilus ! of all that Jesus began (errato) both to do and teach" — began, not finished. There was a new power in the world coming to the surface. There was a mystical Christ entering into the weary heart of humanity and continuing both to do and to teach. St. Luke tells us of an elo- quent Hellenistic youth who pleaded with radiant face against the blindness of hereditary traditions and saw " the glory of God, and Jesus standing at the right hand of God. ' ' At his word the scholar of Gamaliel rides forth to crush the new heresy that threatens to break down the old traditions and is smitten to the earth with the splendors of the new Shechinah in the temple of the individual heart and starts on a new career. Or, again, Paul goes back to the old temple of his fathers, and Jesus confronts him there and bids him depart and go far hence to the Gentiles, Men became possessed with an inspiration that changed all things with a royal regeneration, and it was Jesus always who continued to do and to teach. Miracle passes into law, and the evangelist has only begun again the story of the unending life and left its final volume un- written. St. John, the divine, once thought that a Gospel of his had told the wondrous story of that Sacred Life ; but again, on a holy evening as he mused, lo, the High Priest stood before him in the great temple of the Universe, and gathered the splendors of the sunset clouds as His garments and took on the sound of many " waters" as His voice, and royally served the little churches of Asia, in what men now call the " progrpss of events," His mes- sage was, " I am He that liveth and was dead ; and, behold, I am alive forevermore, amen ! and have the keys of death and hades." So John tried to give utterance to the grander sides of Jesus. Before in his Gospel he had posed Him as meek and lowly, sitting languid with the summer heat and dusty with the way ; as he wrote it, " sitting thus on the well." Now he shows Him as still on the earth, the High Priest making intercession, the Knightly Rider, the throned Lamb of God, the King of kings and Lord of 39 642 HENRY WARD BEECHER. lords. Did His life end with the Apocalypse ? Let the suffer- ings and triumphs of the Christ that remained answer. So, again, when Northern barbarians crushed the fair and seemly defences of Roman civilization in which the Church was tempted to rest, then the great Bishop of Hippo revealed to his age the City of God — the spiritual organization of the mystical Christ and His kingly reign began. So, again, when the brutal ages ensued of fierce contests with iron mailed kings and savage lords, the great Hildebrand roused the faithful to a new obedience to organized spiritual forces as supreme, and founded the papal throne as the visible sacrament of an invisible monarch. The crozier testified again to a higher con- ception of the great High Priest, who went forth with every poor missionary, monk or hermit, and thrilled all Europe with new life. When that rule became in time corrupt and tyrannical, other men of renown arose to recall their ages to the Christ who bade every soul find its justification in faith and accept from Him directly its election as the everlastino; decree of the accelcss Creator But to come at once to our American soil, every advance that the world has made has been toward the rights of all men, to a free conscience, to equality of privilege, man with man, and to the solemn duty of faith in a Christ who comes to all directly in the might of the spirit and mind of Jesus. Forty years ago that ques- tion of a living Christ, in whom we live and believe, was knocking at the doors of men's consciences on the side of orthodox tradi- tions. On its intellectual side it was bound to disturb the whole Christian life of this country. That question was predestined to produce some man or some men who would be driven to reinvestigate the platforms which had sufficed for a humbler past. Whether this man has done it well or ill we leave to the verdict of the future. He has certainly com- pelled all men to think of it and recognize it. He has left a broad mark upon the Christian life of his age — rather a stimulus iu its heart to earnest and devout effort to make the Christ a true pres- ence, to honor daily life as capable of agenuine transabstantiation, so that a plain man may say now, as an earnest man once said, " I am crucified with Christ — nevertheless I live ; yet not I, but Christ livcth in me ; and the life 1 now live in the flesh I live by the faith of the Sou of God, who laved me and gave Himself for HENRY WAnn BEECUER T.YINO IN STATE IN PLYMOUTH CHURCH. CLOSING YEARS. 643 me." Making no pretence to being a theologian or a scholar, my faith rests in the possibility of an illuminated conscience. My gratitude goes forth to him who lies here, that he has enunciated that creed with body, soul and spirit. He loved all things find his eloquence has adorned and beautified all in subservience to that belief. 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." Let us follow him as he followed Christ. Let us turn away to another thought. Abraham was to the Israelites, in some things, what Jesus is to us — the type of a cove- nant system. We now refer to him in a single point. The Lord came to the old Hebrew of His own divine will, as He saw him somewhat resting in earthly happiness, and tried him to the quick — deliberately shocked him into those days of awful agony — with his very faith on the totter. Then as the angelic vision held back his hand, the patriarch found in his trial the ideal of the cross. He " saw the day of Christ and was glad." Paul, in the same line, tells us of a desire in his heart " to know the power of the resurrection and the fellowship of His sufferings, being made con- formably to His death ; if by any means he might attain unto the resurrection of the dead." Jesus also means much the same when He bids us take up our crosses and follow Him. Whenever He sees us too full of earthly wishes or cares or success, and in danger from prosperity, He does for us what He did for Abraham and Job and Paul, and what He did for our brother. He sends a cloud over prosperity to win us by wholesome discipline, " if by any means we can attain unto the mysteries of the resurrection." A brave and weary heart is here at rest — brave of old to dare brutal force and defy the violence of mobs and ruffians in speaking for the slave ; brave to accept the murmurs and doubts of his political friends, when conscience prompted to part from them ; bravest to wrestle alone with a great sorrow, when he could find no earthly help. We honor him for the courage of bis former acts. We love him and wonder at him for the calm, sweet, gentle resig- nation of these last years. God, I believe, has led him step by step to spend his last days among us with a wisdom gained from the cross ; a tender, gentle, soberer wisdom which helped him to 644 HENRY WARD BEECHER. see the Captain of our salvation who was made perfect through suffering, that we may all be one, and the great Sufferer not ashamed to call us brethren. On his last Sunday evening in this place, two weeks ago, after the congregation had retired from it, the organist and one or two others were practising the hymn, " I heard the voice of Jesus say, Come unto me and rest." Mr. Beecher, doubtless with that tire that follows a pastor's Sunday work, remained and listened. Two street urchins were prompted to wander into the building, and one of them was stand- ing, perhaps, in the position of the boy whom Raphael has immor- talized, gazing up at the organ. The old man, laying his hands on the boy's head, turned his face upward and kissed him, and with his arms about the two, left the scene of his triumphs, his trials and his successes, forever. It was a fitting close to a grand life, the old man of genius and fame shielding the little wanderers, great in breasting traditional ways and prejudices, great, also, in the gesture, so like him, that recognized, as did the Master, that the humblest and the poorest were his brethren, the great preacher led out into the night by the little nameless waifs. The great life of Christ is left unfinished for us to do our little part, and weave our humble deeds and teachings into the story. Men will praise our brother for genius, patriotism, victories and intellectual labors. My love for him had its origin in his broad humanity, his utter lack of sham, his transparent love of the " unction from above" that dwells in and teaches and beautifies the lines of duty. He said of his father, " The two things which he desired most were the glory of God and the good of men." So was it with him, as the hearts of grateful myriads attest. But we bid him here farewell, and to me oftenest will come the vision of him passing out of yonder door with his arm about the boys, passing on to the City of God, where he hears again the familiar voice of the Master saying, " Of such is the Kingdom of Heaven." And now, brethren of Plymouth Church, I have fulfilled the promise made to my friend. I have opened my whole heart to CLOSING YEARS. 645 the public simply to show that I loved him and loved him dearly enough to pay his memory the little. honor that I have. The bond that has bound us together, though unknown to the many and not very often expressed, I believe can word itself in two verses of the Quaker poet of America. Our dead brother and I, although he was a Congregatlonalist and I an old hereditary Episcopalian, both, like the Quaker, believing in the Spirit's presence, alike held these words true : " I sit beside the Silent Sea, And wait the muffled oar ; No harm from Him can come to me On ocean or on shore. " I know not where His islands lift Their frond-palms in the air ; I only know I cannot drift Beyond His love and care." CHAPTER IV. A NATION S MOURNING. No death, not even excepting that of Abraham Lincohi, has produced more widespread expressions of sorrow throughout the American natiou than the death of Henry Ward Beecher. Hold- ing no office in either Church or State, a simple minister in a de- nomination which is without a hierarchy, and in a local church in which his ecclesiastical power was no greater than that of the humblest member, his death was accounted a national event, and in the tributes to his memory men of all sections, parties, and de- nominations united. Many, perhaps most of his eulogists, had some word of criticism. The Republican could not quite forget that Mr.. Beecher had been an Independent in politics, and had spoken and voted for a Democratic candidate for the Presidency. The orthodox divine thought him too liberal to be honored as a safe guide ; the libera! divine though he never quite shook off the influence of his early orthodox education. Against some article in almost every man's creed he had at some time run, because his faith was too large to be contained in any political or ecclesiastical formula. The cautious men criticised him as too audacious, and the radical as too conservative. But there was a substantial testi- mony from all classes and all schools that a great and a good man had departed. In pulpits representing every school of thought, on the Sabbath following his death, sermons were delivered on his career and character. In all sorts of organizations, religious and secular, resolutions to his memory were passed. In every kind of journal, from the Turf and Field to the more conservative re- ligious organ, there was some recognition of his services to the age in which he had lived. Here and there some party newspaper, embittered by partisan prejudice, or some theological opponent who could see no excellence beyond the limit of his own creed, or some idiosyncratic individual who had never been emancipated CLOSING YEARS. 647 from the suspicion engendered by the great trial, expressed dis- sent by words, or by more expressive silence ; but these expres- sions of hostility or disapprobation were very few, Mr. Beechcr had seen something good in men of all classes — orthodox and liberal, Protestant and Catholic, Gentile and Jew, saint and sinner — and they all discovered something good in him. A striking testimony to his catholicity, and a striking illustration of the uni- versal regard for liim was aflEorded by a memorial service held in Plymouth Church the Sabbath evening after his death. It was probably the most remarkable ever witnessed in the history of Christendom, as a testimonial of the catholicity of that love which breaks down all barriers of creed and unites all men in a common brotherhood. Long before the service the church was crowded, and probably twice as many were turned away as found admission. The speakers were : the Rev. S. il. Camp, Unitarian ; the Rev. A. M. Freeman (colored), Presbyterian ; the Rev. Dr. I. K. Funk, Lutheran ; the Rev. J. C. Ager, Church of the New Jeru- salem ; the Rev. Dr. Alraon Gunnison, Universalist ; the Rev. Dr. George E. Reed, Methodist ; the Rev. J. C. Roberts, Baptist ; Rabbi Wintner, of the Beth Elohim Synagogue, Williamsburg ; the Rev. U. D. Gulick, Reformed ; the Rev. Lindsay Parker, Episcopalian ; the Rev. Dr. Humpstone, Baptist, and the Revs. James G. Roberts and Lyman Abbott, Congregationalist. There was no Catholic priest upon the platform, but that Church was represented by a letter from Dr. McGlynn, a part of which was as follows : " It is a sign of the dawning of the better day for which the world has so long yearned that such a meeting should be possible, and that you and yours should so earnestly desire the presence of a clergyman of that Church which seems so remote and, too many would say, so antagonistic to yours. Foremost in the work of hastening the coming of the better day was the great man whose death we mourn and for whose work we give thanks. None other so well as he tnught the men of his land and time to exalt the essentials of religion pure and undefiled in which we all agree, and to minimize the differences that seem to separate us. To him was given to see with clearer vision, to reveal with unequalled genius, and with tireless energy to make common among men the meaning of Him whom we all revere as our divine Teacher, who taught of 648 HENRY WARD BEECHER. old on tlie Mount and by the seasliore the core of all religions — the fatherhood of God and the brotherhood of man." Such a letter, read at such a meeting, formed a fitting close to the services in honor of him to whom Christianity was neither a ritual nor a creed, but a life lived in the spirit of Christ. There is no space to transcribe here the words of honor from hundreds of pulpits and scores of organizations ; I can at best select a few as typical and illustrative of all the rest. The Clerical Union of New York (Congregational) and the corresponding body of Boston passed tributes of respect to his genius and his services ; so did the similar body in Chicago, by a vote the more significant because at the first meeting at which such resolutions were intro- duced they were withdrawn because of opposition to them. But the public feeling was so strong, and the rebukes of the theological narrowness of this opposition were so universal and so pointed that at a second meeting the resolutions were passed with only two dis- senting votes. Undenominational bodies of evangelical clergy, and bodies of clergy representing other denominations, passed similar resolutions ; we note especially as illustrations those adopted by the Baptist ministers of Philadelphia and the evangelical clergy of Indianapolis, his old home. Though it is long we give place here to the minute adopted by the Clerical Union of Brooklyn, because this body includes the leading clergy of all denominations in the city where Mr. Beecher's life had been spent, his greatest battles fought, and his bitterest trials experienced. At a special meeting of the Clerical Union, of Brooklyn, held Friday morning, March 11th, the following minute was unanimously adopted : Whereas, In the providence of God the Rev. Henry Ward Beecher, a constant member of this body for more than a quarter of a century, has been called to depart this life : We, therefore, members of the Clerical Union, including representatives of Con- gregational, Presbyterian, Baptist, Reformed, Methodist and Lutheran Churches in this city, unite in the following testimonial of affectionate regard to his memory : We bow reverently before Almighty God, in the intimate sense of an irreparable loss, but yet also with gratitude for the painless close of our brother's life, and in special and heartfelt acknowledgment of the manifold blessings which, by the divine grace through his prolonged work CLOSING YEARS. 649 and ministry, have been imparted to the city, the nation, and the world. Inheriting in a rare degree both bodily and mental vigor, he was himself endowed with a most quick, varied and commanding genius, and was furnished with a range and readiness of physical gift and mental faculty, a wealth of poetic and emotional sensi- bility, a spiritual insight and an enthusiasm for the truths which kindle and master men, such as have made him supreme among the preachers and orators of his time. These extraordinary gifts he has uniformly devoted to the service of his fellow-men ; and this with a fervor, bravery and constancy that, by universal consent, have made him a foremost champion of human liberty and the rights of the oppressed. Philanthropy was his vital breath. He was a friend of the weak and the poor. He was the advocate of the down-trodden. He was the foe of slavery and the lover and liberator of the slave. And yet, in this vehement and lifelong warfare against tyranny he maintained candor of judgment and kindliness of temper. Both by the sweep of his genius and by the sv?eetness of his disposition he showed himself superior to partisanship. At the close of the Civil War his sentiment toward all sections of the land was one of amity. Even at Sumter he was a prophet of the era of good-will sure to follow the strife in which we were then engaged, and when the flag was raised he uttered the oration which voiced the new-born regard of the whole nation for the people from whom had been lifted the shackles of slavery. Those whom he had defended he also warned and counselled. Those whom he assailed he nevertheless pitied and forgave. No man and no class of men were wholly alien from his sympathy. Man was his favorite study ; and the love of men and of all men his supreme passion. His chosen field of service was, therefore, the ministry of the Christian Gospel. Its office was to him as broad as philanthropy itself. Its pulpit was his home and his throne. Its maxims of justice and charity were the burden of his message. Differing often and radically from many of his brethren, even from those who loved him most, upon points of doctrine, he yet felt himself to be at one with them in the affec- tionate and adoring homage with which he bowed before the Crucified and Divine Lord and Saviour. Christ was his glory. Love was the central theme of his speech, and the moral elevation and salvation of men the chief object of his regard. We there- 650 HENRY WARD BEECHER. fore lay upou his grave the tribute of our sincere gratitude and affection. We have felt the charm of his affluent and radiant per- sonality. All men were acquainted with his genius, with the fact that he possessed a rare and many-sided nature. All men knew him as a preacher, as a lecturer, as a writer of books and for the press, even as a scientist and farmer in his practical acquaintance with these departments. We knew him as a brother man. We saw him in the freedom of the social circle, where his eye flashed with enthusiasm at words spoken by his brethren, and where his heart warmed toward opinions and experiences that opened new vistas of thought, and reached out to possibilities beyond the or- dinary ken. In moments of bereavement, of chastening and of sor- row among us he was the one man chosen without a vote to give expression to the sentiment that struggled for utterance. We cannot make him dead. He has had love, fame, popular ap- plause, the support of a most devoted church. He goes on with- out a break into a realm where genius can unfold all her powers ; where the soul can expand to the utmost of its possibilities, and where the man we knew can behold the Christ we all love, and worship Him as Lord of all. To his faithful wife, and to the members of his family and household, we respectfully extend the assurance of our deepest sympathy and our prayers. We pray that the calmness of his own departure may minister something of tranquillity to them in the midst of their grief ; and esjiecially we pray that Jesus of Nazareth, our Blessed Master and Divine Lord, to the memorials of whose earthly life he had devoted the ab- sorbed and eager studies of his last days, may graciously impart to them in this day of their affliction the light of His conscious presence and His assuring grace. Resolved, That as a mark of respect, we attend his funeral in a body and seek by increased devotion to fulfil the tasks he left un- completed in our beloved city. Resolved, That a copy of this minute and these resolutions be sent to Mr. Beecher's family. Justin D. Fulton, Chairman, L K. Funk, Edward P. Terhune, A. J. Lyman, George E. Pveed, T. A. Nelson, President, Edward P. Ingersoll, J. G. Roberts, Secretary. CLOSING YEARS. 651 Nor were tliese expressions of affection and esteem confined to the evangelical clergy. From Unitarian and Universalist, Jew and Romanist, they came in pulpit addresses, newspaper editorials, and published letters. Nor were these testimonials confined to ecclesiastical leaders and organizations. The New York Legislature adjourned that its members might attend the funeral services, as quite a number did. Both Senate and Assembly passed resolutions ; those of the Senate were as follows : Whereas, The Senate has received information of the death of one of the most honored, influential, and beloved citizens of the State, and desires to express its appreciation of the man, and its sympathy with his family and friends ; be it therefore Resolved, That the Senate of the State of New York have heard with profound regret of the sudden death of the Rev. Henry Ward Beecher. His character, genius, and eloquence, his ardent patriotism, his constant devotion to the cause of freedom at home and abroad, his love for his whole country and the whole world, his eminent services as a public teacher and a citizen in the darkest hour of the republic, and his unflinching courage in the advocacy of what his conscience believed to be right, have made his name honorable and dear as much to those who differed from him as to those who agreed with him, and his fame is one of the brightest possessions of this State. Resolved, That the Senate tenders the assurance of its deep sym- pathy to the family and personal friends of our departed fellow- citizen, g,nd that the clerk of the Senate be directed to communi- cate a copy of these resolutions to the widow and family of the deceased. Resolved, That as a mark of respect to the memory of the de- ceased the Senate do now adjourn. Similar resolutions were passed by the Board of Aldermen of the city of Brooklyn, which directed that appropriate emblems of mourning till after the day of the funeral be displayed on the City Hall, that the aldermen attend the funeral in a body, and that the public oflfices be closed on the day of the funeral. Unofficial bodies expressed themselves in like manner. Reso- lutions of respect were passed by the Union League Club of New York City, of which Mr. Beecher was an honorary member, by 652 HENRY WARD BEECHER. the Hamilton Club, the social club of Brooklyn, and by Republi- can, Prohibition, and Democratic clubs. Individual churches, several Jewish synagogues, the Brooklyn Post of the Grand Army "of the Republic, the Alumni of Amherst College, even the street Arabs of Brooklyn, in touching and characteristic resolutions, ex- pressed their love for the patriot, the preacher, and the citizen, and their sorrow in his death. Of these tributes one only will we give here as a type of all — that adopted by the Union League Club of New York City : Inasmuch as it has pleased Almighty God to remove from the scenes of earth the Rev. Henry Ward Beecher, whose long, event- ful, and distinguished life is known and recognized throughout the world ; be it therefore Resolved, That the Union League Club feels moved by the com- mon sentiments of mourning which the occasion has universally called forth, and desires to add to the expressions of other bodies its sense of appreciation of the great man who has now gone from us forever. Resolved, That in the person of Uenry Ward Beecher we recog- nize, first of all, a great moral teacher whose inspiration arose from an undyinc: love for humanity and a belief in its worth and upward tendencies. Resolved, That his example as a liberal teacher, not only in secular and political affairs, but in religion also, has produced a marked effect upon the age, and has tended in the direction of leading men to a higher and better appreciation, not only of their earthly responsibilities and duties toward each other, but to a truer sense and knowledge of their relations to their Creator. Resolved, That the State and nation has in the death of Mr. Beecher lost a patriot whose love of country was always upper- most, and whose services in its belralf, at a time and place of the most trying nature, were equal to the great necessities at hand, and whose labors at that critical juncture were so peculiarly deli- cate and effective that their value can never be overstated, as re- membrance of them can never perish from the hearts of his grate- ful countrymen. Resolved, That we also recognize in Mr. Beecher a man of mighty intellect, lofty genius, marvellous fertility of thought, and unsurpassed in its expression, and that his contributions to the CLOSING YEARS. 653 literature of the country will always retain tlie conspicuous place wliicli his writings now occupy. Resolved, That this club hereby extends to his bereaved family its most profound sympathy for the great loss their domestic circle has sustained, and that a copy of these resolutions be sent to them. I have written thus far throughout this volume purely as an his- torian. I cannot close it without adding a personal tribute as a personal friend. For my debt to Mr. Beecher is greater than to any other man, living or dead, except only my father. Like many a son of New England, I began my Christian life with faith in a God who is inexorable, and submission to the primacy of a conscience which is absolute but not infallible. From Mr. Beecher I first learned that God is love, that law is redemptive, and that love not conscience is the soul's primate. Who that has learned this lesson from any teacher can ever forget the lesson, or look with other than a rever- ent affection on the teacher from whom he learned it ? Mr. Beecher has rendered his generation many and great services — political, moral, social, theological ; but his greatest service is in this, that he has taught the Puritan Church that God is love, and law is love, and life is love — that love is all and in all. He was a great preacher, that we all know ; the greatest preacher certainly of his age, if not of Church history. He was a great preacher because he was a great and good man ; that all know who knew him. He was pure as a pure woman ; simple as a little child ; frank to a fault. His most intimate friends never heard from his lips a suggestion of a salacious jest ; I never knew the man bold enough to venture on one in his presence. He was incapable of deceit or artifice. He could conceal, when conceal- ment was necessary, only by maintaining an absolutely impenetra- ble reserve. The charges of duplicity and falsehood which a foul conspiracy brought against him some years ago were to all who knew him as intellectually absurd as they were morally monstrous. He had not the necessary capacity to act a part. He was always more than his sermons ; his life was more eloquent than his speech. He was, indeed, most eloquent when he most failed to say what he wished to say ; when he struggled to give utterance to the experiences which were unutterable, to afford to others a C5-i HENRY WARD BEECHER. glimpse of the visions which had been revealed to himself. He was not logical ; the seer never is. He was a revelator. What he had seen in the closet he disclosed in the pulpit. His power "lay not in his physical dignity, his skilful, but inartificial elocution, his often maiTed but often matchless use of language, his com- mingled sublimity and humor, his pictorial imagination, his philo- sophic perception of great principles crystallizing all details, his broad human sympathies, his lightning-like rapidity of mental action ; these were all but instruments of a power greater than either, greater than all combined — the power of a great and a godly personality, a noble and a divinely irradiated spirit. For no one who knew Mr. Beecher intimately could doubt that he was pre-eminently a man of God and walked with God. These are phrases that are so contaminated with cant that the pen shrinks from writing them. But they are phrases full of a divine mean- ing. It is possible to walk with God ; to have a fellowship with God, and with His Son Jesus Christ ; to be a tabernacle for God's indwelling. No one who knew Mr. Beecher intimately, in all varieties of experience, from hours of the lightest merriment to experiences of the deepest sorrow, could ever question the sublime reality of the experience of walking with God. ■^ Great natures have great faults. But Mr. Beecher's were only faults — flaws on the surface, not vices that corrupted the heart. His heart was always true, pure, faithful. The soul's true nature is seen in great crises, such as arouse all its powers whether for good or evil, and enkindle all its motives whether generous or base. Then the faults which have sprung from carelessness, and the simulated virtues which good-nature and approbativeness have for the hour assumed, are flung off, and the real man appears. In all great crises Mr. Beecher appeared a man ; true to himself, to his con- victions, to God, and to his fellow-men. It was this loyalty of his to God and God's truth that made those that knew him so loyal to him. In him they saw more than Mr. Beecher ; they saw God and God's truth manifested, and to these were loyal. Even when they thought his judgment had played him false they believed his loyalty was true. Independent himself, he taught his pupils independence. They never followed him so closely as when they refused to follow him at all ; love never bound them and him together with bonds more indissoluble than when they CLOSING YEARS. 655 radically differed. The controversies of loving and loyal hearts do but weld them more closely together. God's best gift to Ilis children is a great and good man ; for in every great and good man faith sees, though in a glass, darkly, the great and good God. God be thanked for Henry Ward Beecher ! Death cannot wholly take him from those that loved him. Time, silence, criticism, arc all alike powerless to take from human minds the truths which he has taught them, or from human hearts the impulses with which he has inspired them. Dead, he still lives ; the alabaster box is broken, but the fragrance fills a continent. "^ MR. BEECHER'S PRIVATE, AS RELATED TO HIS PUBLIC LIFE. BY R. "W. RAYMOND. [Reprinted from Tlie Christian Union.] It would be difficult to give a description of Mr, Beecher in private life, as distinct from his public duties, and particularly his life-work of preaching the Gospel of Christ. And the reasons for this difficulty are peculiar — 1 might, perhaps, say unique. Cer- tain! v, I never met another man who was so entirely tlie same in public and in private. He made no attempt to separate the two spheres, but in both revealed himself with an absolute simplicity, and without reserve. It is probable that every statement made by him in the most intimate confidence, concerning his own feel- ings, could be matched by a passage containing the same revela- tion, poured out freely before thousands of hearers. His letters were not more guarded than his speech. He used the pen as a substitute for the tongue, sometimes not addressing, at other times not signing, what he wrote. And in the expression of his thoughts and feelings, he took no heed of form. The felicity and com- pleteness of his illustrations were due to their spontaneity. They were not elaborated artificially, but seen clearly, and flashed upon the listener with equal clearness. I remember that on one occasion he concluded a public address with a magnificent outburst, in which he represented himself as 656 HENRY WARD BEECHER. seeing Liberty in a vision. (No doubt it was the fresh and un- conscious reproduction on his part of a famous passage of Milton — he was a great lover of Milton's prose, the influence of which, in his oratory, I have often fancied I could detect. But the de- tails of this vision were wholly new.) After the return home, some one said to him, " Mr. Beecher, you must have meant a diamond-tipped or diamond-set sceptre, when you said Liberty had ' a diamond sceptre.' " " No ; it was a diamond sceptre," was the reply. *' But, Mr. Beecher," pursued the domestic critic, " it couldn't be, you know. There are no diamonds big enough." " I tell you," replied Mr. Beecher, earnestly, " it was all one diamond ! Don't I know ? I saio it myself!''^ Many rhetorical faults have moral causes, and among them the fault known as " mixing figures," is usually due to a kind of lit- erary insincerity. A man uses a figurative phrase when he is not thinking figuratively at all ; and hence no instinct prevents him from employing at once another phase inconsistent with the first. Mr. Beecher's similes and strophes were singularly consistent and complete, because they were sincere. They were pictorial expres- sions of pictures really perceived. I might follow this analysis into other features of his style as a preacher, but such is not my present purpose. It is sufficient to mention one further illustration, namely, the effect of his sincerity upon his delivery. A great critic once said to me that he knew of no other public speaker besides Mr. Beecher who was absolutely free from conventionalities of time and manner. His public and his private tones were exactly alike. He was simply himself, everywhere and under all circumstances. That pulpit " staginess" — worse than the staginess of the stage — which consists in artificial and unnatural intonation, or in the adoption of the manner of emotion without the emotion, was- unknown to him. When he varied his manner it was because his mood had changed. In prayer and in the reading of Scripture and of hymns respectively, his expression was exquisitely appropriate, not because he had studied the fitness of things, but because his spirit was perfectly attuned to the exercise. Not a word left his lips except as an arrow from the bow of true feeling. It is often said by those who fancy themselves critics, that he was a great actor. In the most important sense, this is not only CLOSING YEARS. G57 not true, it is the exact opposite of the truth. He could not dis- semble. He could not give force of expression to a feeling which was not with equal force dominant for the time within him. Tliat, partly by natural gift and partly by training, he had ac- quired mastery of the means of expression, is true enough ; but the sources of his povver in their use were these two : perfect transparent sincerity and perfect freedom from the trammels of mannerism. He was thoroughly natural, which is a much rarer thing than to be, as superficial observers have called him, dramati- cally artistic. But Mr. Beecher was not only sincere, he was devoted. He carried constantly with him the sense of his public duties, and subordinated to this feeling all other considerations. No one who ever sat near him when he was preaching could fail to notice what prodigious expenditure of force went with his words. No one who ever heard him officiate at a funeral but was impressed with tlie depth of his sympathy. These things exhausted him ; yet they were continually recurring duties — the controlling duties of his life. Ministers often harden themselves in self-defence, or else they are worn out by the sympathetic action of their emotions. Mr. Beecher planned his whole life to avoid these two extremes. He thoroughly studied his own body and his own soul ; and he did, without regard to the rules of others, just what experience liad shown him to be best calculated to preserve his powers. As I have elsewhere explained, he had three distinct mental states — the passive or resting, the receptive and inquiring or filling up, and the spontaneously active or giving forth state ; and it was his constant effort, by observing certain laws of body and mind, to command these conditions at their appropiiate times. In the rest- ing stage, he loved to be alone with birds or flowers, or precious stones or pictures — things that asked no questions, and called for no active reciprocities. He loved, also, at such times the company of little children, or of friends who knew enough to let him alone. He liked to have talk go on around him, without special reference to him ; or if, less weary, he was not averse to take part, then the conversation must be light, merry chat, and nobody must begin to utilize it by trying to " draw him out." If these conditions were not observed, he would often take his hat suddenly and de- part, without giving reason or bidding farewell. Silence and sleep 40. CoS HENRY WARD BEECHER. were the restorers of liis strength. To rouse him from either, was to obtain, perhaps, a temporary exhibition of power, but at the cost of a later loss. But these resting-spells, which usually preceded and followed his public efforts, were but brief, compared with the inquisitive, acquisitive, observant and studious state in which he characteris- tically lived. His eager mind laid hold of everything, absorbed and digested everything, until it became part of him. He had no " verbal memory ;" he quoted nothing ; he made no notes of happy anecdotes or illustrations to be subsequently used ; when he wanted them, they came to him. As is well known, he was a constant reader — and in widely various realms of literature. Some books he read because they refreshed him ; some, because they stimulated him ; some, because they produced certain desired moods in his mind ; some, because they instructed him. These last he studied ; and his method of study was slow and laborious. He read every word, marking often the passages to which he would afterward return, and musing as he read. I have lent him many books, and borrowed many from him, and the proofs of his thorough study have often met my eyes. That he received com- paratively little credit for this characteristic, is due to his inability to quote. But many a writer whose abundant quotations argue great learning knows much less about the books he cites than did this patient and thoughtful reader. Upon his active inquiries among men in their daily occupations, I will not dwell, because this side of him is more generally familiar. The pilots on the East River, the lapidaries, mechanics, gardeners and artists of many cities have borne witness to it abundantly. Concerning the productive or outgiving state of his mind, much might be said from long observation. His purpose was that it should come upon him when he needed it for public use ; and by rigid self-denial and insistence upon his simple rules of life, he usually succeeded. It was all-important that intellectual rest should precede. This was the reason he refused on his lecturing tours to stop at private houses and meet distinguished people who had been specially invited for the purpose. It was also the reason of his avoidance of many social pleasures (notably the Philhar- monic concerts, after they were set for Saturday nights), and of manv pastoral duties, such as the visiting of sick persons — a thing CLOSING YEARS. 659 which he seldom did, even for his most intimate friends, because he could not bear the untimely strain upon his sympathies which it involved. As a minor, but still important, form of self-denial, I may mention his abstemiousness in eating. This was particu- larly shown on Sundays, when he would abstain from meat before preaching ; but it was not confined to that day. Before a prayer- meeting as well as before a sermon, he would carefully avoid any hearty eating. In spite of all precautions, the outgiving mood would some- times seize him when there was no audience, and he would squander eloquence, humor and exalted emotion upon whatever company he might be in. I have heard, at such times, from his lips, utterances as grand and moving as any which he pronounced in public. On the other hand, it happened to him, as to other ministers, that he had to preach or make speeches when he was not in the spirit for it. And he was the only man I ever knew who would look back upon a relative failure of this kind with perfect equa- nimity, and without any special sense of responsibility for it. Jle was accustomed to say that he could tell beforehand, by the feel- ing of " the blood pumping up and down in him," when he was going to speak with power. In later years, particularly, he did best (I do not now refer to his preaching) when stimulated and *' set going" by some — but not too much — speaking from others. I remember that at one of his last public appearances — the din- ner of the Polytechnic Alumni in Brooklyn, on the 28th of Jan- uary— he whis[)ered to me as I paused behind his chair, " I can't say anything to-night ; I am perfectly empty." " Never mind," I replied ; " the boys are glad to see you. Thank them for their greeting, anyhow, and sit down again, if you like." But by the time he was called upon, after several had spoken, he had found enough to say ; and the mingled humor and eloquence of his ad- dress that night will not soon be forgotten. Ilis closing appeal to young men to take a manly stand upon the questions of the day, and his vigorous denunciation of the tyranny of secret soci- eties pretending to represent the rights of labor, were widely quoted throughout the country. A singular feature of his productive power was that it seldom lasted more than a couple of hours. At the end of that period, 660 HENRY WARD BEECHER. it usually failed him, and could only be restored by rest. I dis- covered this peculiarity in the course of certain literary labor in which I was assisting him, and I believe it was the result of the habit, through so many years, of intellectual effort in preaching. His mind ran on at high pressure about long enough for the pro- duction of a sermon. Then it shut up. I have known him, in the active mood, to remember with perfect distinctness the details of a long past occurrence, which he said came before him as if he saw and heard the whole of it. Yet a little later, when it was desirable to get from him additional particulars, he could not re- call even those he had given ; and later still, by waiting for the favorable condition in him, and touching again the appropriate association, the lost clew was recovered, and the picture was re- discovered, unf'hanged in its fidelity and vividness. The absurdity of comparing such an activity and wealth of pro- ductiveness as his with the studied and rare efforts of other orators — men who polished and repolished their work and waited for the favorable moment to bring it forth — ought to be evident. And it is one of the marks of the lack of real critical insight in our day, that so many shallow wiseacres are indulging, with knowing air and balanced phrase, in criticism of Mr. Beecher's work and powers, without so much as a standard of measurement for either. They are gravely telling us that he was not this, that or the other, which he never tried to be, and they do not comprehend, either in quantity or quality, what he was. They would measure a mighty river, and they have brought not even a pint cup — only a yard-stick. Let them pass. They have ears — but not to hear. APPEI^DIX. THE SCOPE OF ME. BEECHER'S PREACHING. The following list of Mr. Beeclier's texts and themes for two years in- dicate one element of his pulpit power, namely, his variety, and inter- pret and partly illustrate his advice to the Yale Theological students-. Never preach two sermons alike if you can help it. 1. Thoughts of Death.— John 9 : 4. 2. Peaceable Living. — Eom. 12 : 18. 3. The Law of Liberty.— Gal. 5 : 1, 18. 4. What is the Profit of Godliness.— 1 Tim. 4 :18. 5. The Religious Uses of Music. — Eph. 5 : 19. 6. The Past and the Future.— Phil. 3 : 12-15. 7. As to the Lord.— Col. 3 : 22, 23, 24. 8. Faithfulness to Conviction the Basis of Right Action. — Rom. 14 : 5. 9. Earning a Livelihood. — Ej)h. 4 : 28. 10. Soul Sight. -John 20 : 29. [14 : 6. 11. Moral Honesty and Moral Earnestness. - -Luke 14: 26, 27; John 12. The Uses of Ideals.— 1 Cor. 1 : 28-31. 13. Exterior and Interior Divine Providence. — Phil. 2 : 13. 14. Motives of Action.— 1 Cor. 10 : 31. 15. True Christian Toleration.— Acts 21 : 17-26. 16. The Nature and Power of Humility.— Phil. 3 : 1. 17. The Altars of Childhood Rebuilt.— 1 Kings 18 : 17, 18. Through Fear to Love. — 1 John 4 : 18. 19. Immortality.— 1 Cor. 15 : 19. 20. Possibilities of the Future. — 1 John 3 : 2. 21. Children.— Matt. 18 : 10. 22. The Sense of an Ever-present God.— Heb. 11 : 27. 23. The Nature and Sources of Temptation. — James 1 : 13, 14. 24. The Temporal Advantages of Religion. — 1 Tim. 4 : 8. . 25. The Mercifulness of the Bible.— Ps. 119 : 64. 26. This Life Completed in the Life that is to Come. — Heb. 13 : 14. 27. The Nature, Importance and Liberties of Belief.— John 9 : 35-38. 28. Healing Virtue in Christ.- Mark 5 : 24-34. 29. The Christian Use of the Tongue.— Col. 3 : 17. 30. Heroism.— Mark 12 : 41-44 and 14 : 3-9. 31. The Atoning God.— Heb. 4 : 14-16. 32. The New Testament Theory of Evolution.—! John 3 : 2, 3. 33. Fact and Fancy.— 2 Cor. 4 : 18. 34. All-sidedness in Christian Life.— Eph. 6 : 13. 35. Prayer.— 1 Tim. 2 : 1, 2. 36. Cuba and the Brotherhood of Nations. -Gal. 3 : 28. 37. Working and Waiting.— Eph. 6 : 13. 38. The Moral Teaching of Suffering.- Rom. 5 : 6-8. 39. The Nature of Christ.— Heb. 2 : 17, 18, and Heb. 4 : 16. 40. The Science of Right Living.— Eph. 4 : 31, 32. 41. Religious Constancy. — Heb. 6 : 3, 4. 42. The Riches of God.— Eph. 2 : 4-7. 43. Soul Power.— 1 Cor. 12 : 3. 44. St. Paul's Creed.— Phil. 4 : 18. 45. The Departed Christ.— John 16 : 7. 46. The Naturalness of Faith.— 2 Cor. 5 : 7. 47. Spiritual Manhood.— 2 Cor. 12 : 10. 48. Special Providence.— Matt. 6 : 30. 49. Keeping the Faith.— Heb. 3 : 6, 14, and Heb. 10 : 35, 36. 50. Charles Sumner.— Isa. 1 : 26. 51. Saved by Hope.— Rom. 8 : 24, 25. 52. Following Christ.— Matt. 4 : 17-22. 53. The Primacy of Love.— 1 Cor. 1 : 18-24. 664 HENRY WARD BEECHER. 54. Summer in the Soul. — Luke 17 : 21. 55. Hindering Christianity.— Gal. 5 : 22-26. 56. Soul-Relationship.— Gal. 3 : 26-29, and Eph. 11 : 19-22. 57. Christian Joyfulness. — Rom. 12 : 12. 58. The Secret of the Cross.— 1 Cor. 2 : 1-5. 59. God's Grace.— Eph. 2 : 8. 60. The Problem of Life.— 1 John 3 : 2, 3, and Rom. 8 : 18-21. 61. Unjust Judgments.— Matt. 7 : 1. 62. The Immortality of Good Work.— Rev. 14 : 13. 63. The Delight of Self-Sacrifice.— Matt. 20 : 28, and Phil. 2 : 1-11. 64. Truth-Speaking.— Eph. 4 : 25. 65. Saved by Grace.— Eph. 2 : 8. 66. The World's Growth.— 1 Cor. 4 : 20. 67. Foundation Work.— Rom. 15 : 20. 68. Triie Righteoiisness. — Phil. 3 : 9. 69. The Work of Patience.— James 1 : 3, 4. 70. Wastefulness.— Seeming and Real —Matt. 26 : 8. - 71. The Old Paths.— Jer. 6 : 16, and Jer. 18 : 15. 72. Christian Contentment.— Phil. 4 : 11-13. 73. Moral Standards.— Rom. 13 : 8-10, and Gal. 5 : 14. 74. Extent of the Divine Law. — Rom. 8 : 10. 75. Christ's Life.— Col. 1 : 27, 76. Soul Growth.— Isaiah 41 : 31. 77. Meekness a Power.— Matt. 5:5. 78. Christianity Social.— 2 Cor. 4 : 14. 79. Grieving the Spirit. — Eph. 4 : 30. 80. Sources and Uses of Suffering.- 2 Cor. 1 : 3-5. 81. God's Dear Children.— Eph. 1 : 2. 82. Nurture of Noble Impulse.— Matt. 21 : 28-31. 83. The Sure Foundation.— 2 Tim. 2 : 19. 84. Soul Statistics.— 2 Pet. 3 : 18. 85. Sowing and Reaping. — Rom. 2 : 6-11. 86. The Christian Life and Struggles.— Heb. 12 : 2, 3. " 87. Tlie B;ble.~2 Tim. 3 : 14-17. The manuscript or skeleton of the sermon on the Bible con- tained eighty-seven words. The printed sermon contained nearly eight thousand words. 88. The Heroism of Suffering.— 2 Cor. 1 : 3, 4. 89. The Uses of the Sabbath.— Mark 2 : 37. 90. Wait on the Lord.- Heb. 10 : 36. 91. The Mission of Christ.— Luke 4 : 16. 92. Christlikeness.— 2Cor. 13 : 5. 93. The Law of Love.— Matt. 22 : 36-40. 94. A Good Name.— Eccl. 7 : 1. 95. Sabbath Observance.— Mark 2 : 27. 96. The Conscious Presence of God.'^Heb. 11 : 27. 97. The Divine Method in the World.— Luke 2 : 41. 98. Religious Doubt.— Matt. 15 : 8, 9. 99. The Fruits of the Spirit.— Gal. 5 : 22, 23. 100. The Divinity of Christ.— Luke 19 : 14, and Luke 24 : 51, 52. 101. The Parable of the Judgment —Matt. 25 : 31-46. 102. The Spirit of Christian Missions.— Matt. 28 : 18-20. 103. Christian Consecration —Luke 14 : 25-26. 104. Man's Need and God's Help.— Acts 13 : 46. 105. Awake Thou that Sleepest. — Eph. 4 : 14. 106. Spiritual Decadence. — 2 Cor. 4 : 18. 107. The Waste of Moral Force.— Rom. 15 : 7-14. 108. Sentiment in Religion. — Luke 24 : 14. 109. The Church of Christ.— Matt. 10 : 32, 33. 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