Chapter 3

A very different, yet not less characteristic, scene was that in the lecture room of the church one Friday evening, when the news of the death of John Brown had come. Looking back over the years it is easy to see that his attempt with a mere handful of men to free the slaves of the South was a most foolish thing. Yet at that time so keen was the realisation of the wrongs that slavery had committed and so hearty the respect for the nobility of his purpose and of his character, that from all the land there went up one general expression of sympathy. The seriousness of the situation appears in the fact that the State of Virginia felt obliged to call out a large number of troops on the day of his execution to quell any popular disturbance. The day of the execution was Friday, and as the audience crowded the room, it was easy to see that there was but one thought in the minds of all. Mr. Beecher came in and took his seat upon the platform, a strange and unusual expression on his face, indicating the intensity of the feeling within. After one or two short prayers, and a couple of hymns, one after another gave expression to his sorrow and amazement at the condition of things between the North and the South, and through all there was manifest the conviction that war and bloodshed were sure to come. The meeting was long and earnest, showing the deep impression made on the people of the church.

_MR. BEECHER IN ENGLAND_

The most critical time for the North during the Civil War was when it was thought that England would recognise the Southern Confederacy. The close relations between the cotton manufacturers of England and the vast cotton producers of the South created a public sentiment in England in favour of the slave states. The feeling on both sides was intensified by the "Trent Affair." Two Confederate envoys, sent to Europe to secure the recognition of the Confederacy, were taken from the British steamship _Trent_ by a United States man-of-war. Great Britain, which had declared neutrality and thus granted the Confederacy the rights of belligerents, demanded their surrender. Feeling in the North ran very high, and there were most vigorous protests against yielding to the English demands. The President and his advisers, however, realising that the arrest of the two envoys tallied very closely with the English actions that had brought on the War of 1812, concluded that it was wiser to avoid so far as possible any occasion for interference on the part of Europe, and returned the envoys. Their arrival in England and their setting forth of their side of the conflict was a signal for a great increase of hostility to the North, and the pressure from the industrial centres became so great that probably only the steadfast friendship for the North of the Queen's husband, Prince Albert, averted what would most certainly have been a great calamity. Even Mr. Gladstone had expressed his conviction that the success of the Southern States, so far at least as regarded their separation from the North was concerned, was "as certain as any event yet future and contingent, could be." Even the Emancipation Proclamation did not suffice to open the eyes of many to the real issues, and there was a widespread feeling that some way must be found to present the cause of the North in such a manner as to reach the English conscience and genuine love of liberty.

In the summer of 1863 Mr. Beecher had been sent to Europe for a rest. On his return he came to England, and immediately there arose a general demand for him to represent America. His marvellous success in the anti-slavery campaign preceding the Civil War, his widespread popularity, and particularly his power over audiences, made many look to him as the providential ambassador. He demurred at first, but at last yielded.

When he arrived in London, Manchester, and Liverpool, where great mass meetings had been arranged for him to address, he found that every effort had been made to discredit him, by huge posters placed throughout the country asking: "Who is Henry Ward Beecher? He is the man who said the best blood of England must be shed to atone for the Trent affair. Men of Manchester, Englishmen, what reception can you give this man? He is the friend of General Butler. He is the friend of that so-called gospel preacher, Cheever. His impudence in coming here is only equalled by his cruelty and impiety."

The meeting at Liverpool was announced as follows. "At a meeting held in New York at the time when the Confederate envoys, Messrs. Mason and Slidell, had been surrendered by President Lincoln to the British Government, from whose vessel (the Royal Mail Steamer _Trent_) they were taken, the Rev. Henry Ward Beecher said, This act will demonstrate the unfeeling selfishness of the British Government and bring us to a realisation of our national humiliation. This opinion comes from a Christian minister who wishes to obtain a welcome in Liverpool, where operatives are suffering almost unprecedented hardships caused by the suicidal war raging in the States of North America, and which is being urged on by fanatical statesmen and preachers of the North!"

These posters and notices of the press had so inflamed the public mind that when Mr. Beecher entered the great halls in Liverpool, Manchester and London, he had to face a howling mob. When he arose to speak, the tumult and hisses made it impossible for him to be heard. Calmly he stood and faced the storm like a giant oak for a period of one hour to one hour and a half, at each one of these three great meetings, before the audience would listen to anything which he said; gradually sentence after sentence began to reach them, and here Mr. Beecher showed his great power as an orator. He slowly quieted the mob until they listened to every word he said, and when he closed, the applause which greeted him was greater than the groans and the howling with which he had been received. He had met the enemy and conquered.

He had an easy road afterwards in following up this victory, speaking in different towns and cities all over England, and everywhere the people received him with respect and enthusiasm. By degrees he succeeded in slowly changing the opinions of the people from favouring the cause of the Confederate States to indorsing the struggle of the North for Union and Liberty. Returning to London before sailing for America, he was received with great honours by the most noted men in that city, including royalty. Dinners, breakfasts, and receptions followed one another in quick succession until he took his departure.

Upon his return home he was tendered a great reception in the Academy of Music, Brooklyn. The people of the North had been watching every step of his course in England with deep anxiety, for it was a serious time in the history of this nation. The service which he rendered his country at that time earned the gratitude of the American Government and people, and made him the most popular man of the North. I may add that this period of Mr. Beecher's life was the one of his greatest power and influence, and marked one of the greatest epochs in his history.

_THE BEECHER TRIAL_

Following the Civil War came the reconstruction days, and into all those experiences Mr. Beecher entered with full energy, but even more than before he devoted himself to his work as a preacher and writer. He was in demand everywhere for addresses and lectures, as well as for articles from his pen. Churches, lyceums, theological seminaries, public meetings of all sorts tried to secure him. He took up editorial work on the _Christian Union_, now _The Outlook_; he gave the first of the famous series of lectures on "Preaching," at Yale Theological Seminary. Indeed, it seemed as if he was ubiquitous. How he got time for it all was a marvel, even to those who best knew his great powers of endurance, and his marvellous capacity for work. In it all Plymouth Church never suffered. Its interests were his first care, and while it was never selfish or unwilling that others should share their advantage, he was faithful to what he esteemed his first duty.

Thus was built up a strength of mutual confidence, and affection, that was to be tested in as severe a way as could well be imagined. That the test was borne and that both pastor and people came out of it, not merely with no loss of mutual esteem and honour, but with the vigour of church life unimpaired, indeed strengthened, is but another testimony to the genuine force of Christian character in both.

No survey of Plymouth Church during its history can ignore the famous trial, or rather series of trials, in which both the church and its pastor were subjected to an ordeal of the severest type. Into the details there is no necessity of going, neither is there advantage in reviewing arguments. The actors are fast passing away. Those now coming on the stage have little concern with any results except those made manifest in the life of Plymouth Church, and which may be taken as illustrating its character.

As for Mr. Beecher himself, he needs no vindication. The verdict of his city, which has honoured him as it honours few men, is sufficiently clear. So also is that of the churches and the great mass of Christian men and women over the country. He was undoubtedly indiscreet, yet not in the way that most charged indiscretion. Open, above board, frank, generous, he trusted others, and, as Dr. Abbott has said, accepted "as true, without inquiry or investigation, statements which a man of more practical wisdom would certainly have doubted." Good men and true found it in many cases difficult to understand his course. Those who believed in him can afford to await until the limelight of the highest of all courts shall pass its verdict.

Of more immediate value to those interested in Plymouth Church was its bearing in such circumstances, and the results as manifested in its life. It is to be remembered that there were really three trials: 1. An investigation by Plymouth Church, commencing in June and closing in August, 1874; 2. A trial before the civil court, from January 5 to July 2, 1875, brought by Mr. Tilton on the charge of alienating his wife's affections; 3. A council of Congregational Churches, called by Plymouth Church to review its action in regard to its pastor. The first investigation was presented, in its method, evidence and results, to a meeting of the church. After full public notice and by a unanimous vote of about fifteen hundred members, practically the entire resident membership, Mr. Beecher was awarded the perfect confidence of the church. The civil trial resulted in a disagreement of the jury, but the chief lawyer for the prosecution and the presiding judge both publicly affirmed their absolute conviction in Mr. Beecher's innocence. The Council was the largest and most representative ever known in the history of the Congregational Churches. Over two hundred and forty men from every part of the country, holding every phase of theological beliefs and of ecclesiastical habit, met together, and for days investigated, considered, questioned, with a freedom impossible in strictly legal procedure, and closed their sessions with formal reaffirmation of Mr. Beecher's innocence, no charge against him having been sustained by any proof.

While it is thus true that Mr. Beecher and the church came forth triumphant, it was at heavy cost. No man could endure such a strain without showing the effects of it, and Mr. Beecher never recovered the old buoyancy. In many ways it became evident how keenly he felt the trial. The church showed the effect less. A few, very few, members left the church, but the number of dismissions was not larger than usual; indeed they were less than in the previous two years, and the church remained the more united. The admissions by letter were exceptionally large, as were also those by confession of their faith. More pertinent, however, than these evidences of life is the fact that the entire work of the church suffered no interruption. Prayer meetings, Sunday School, continued with usual vigour, and the general activities of the congregation were carried on as if there was nothing unusual taking place.

It was this that aroused the attention of the country at large and convinced many that the basis of the real power of Plymouth Church lay not so much in any oratorical gifts of its pastor, as in the substantial Christian life of its members. Those who could hold together under such a strain were not likely to fall apart under the pressure of any lesser difficulty. Undoubtedly there was a certain amount of _esprit de corps_, a realisation of the absolute necessity of mutual support, but to those who look back on those days it is still more evident that they felt that more than Mr. Beecher, or even Plymouth Church, was at stake; it was the ability of a company of Christian men and women to hold their faith, and the expression of their faith.

So far as their personal interest and faith in Mr. Beecher were concerned, nothing could illustrate it better than the action of the society in helping him to meet the extraordinary expense, and the visit to his home in Peekskill of the members of the three Sunday Schools. While Mr. Beecher had a most liberal salary, he was free and even reckless in expenditure. The result was that the cost of the trial went far beyond his resources. At its close, and even before he had had time to realise what that cost had been, the society which has charge of the finances of the church, met and voted that his salary for that year be one hundred thousand dollars. It was a great relief to him financially, but still more grateful as a taken of the love and confidence of the people. Not less touching to him was the tribute from the Sunday Schools.

He was at the time living in his summer home at Peekskill, N. Y. Without any knowledge on his part, until the very day, it was arranged by the teachers and officers of the Plymouth, Bethel and Mayflower Schools that the scholars should go to Peekskill to congratulate him on the outcome of the trial, and emphasise the feeling of the church already expressed in the salary grant. The steamer _Blackburn_ was chartered and about three hundred joined in the excursion up the North River. Mr. R. D. Jaques, an old, active and honoured member of the church, describing the scene, says that Mr. Beecher met them standing under a tree, his hat off and his long hair flowing in the wind. The visitors formed in line so that each could shake his hand. As the little ones came, Mr. Beecher would lift them up in his arms and kiss them. Then the house was thrown open and they were welcomed to every part of it. Refreshments were provided and the social festivities continued until the time came to return. It was a happy company that sailed down the river, but it is doubtful whether anyone was happier than the host, as he realised what the visit meant of their love and honour.

_THE CHURCH TESTED_

On March 8, 1887, a little less than forty years after he had been called as pastor of Plymouth Church, Henry Ward Beecher died. The end came suddenly. There was no lingering sickness, no wasting of his powers. If the impassioned delivery of earlier years was somewhat lacking, there was still a power and vigour fully as effective. The year before he had been to England on a lecture tour and received an ovation as marked as the disapproval attending his first attempts. He had been in demand all over the country for addresses and lectures. The columns of papers and magazines were everywhere open to him, and while it may be true that his popularity was not of the intense sort that it had been at times, when he was almost the idol of the people, it probably was of a more substantial character. It is probable, too, that at no time in its history had Plymouth Church been more closely identified with him, or the opinion been so prevalent that neither could prosper without the other. The services were as fully attended as ever, and church work had settled into the harmonious routine which always bodes good for a church's life.

All this was suddenly broken up. On Wednesday evening, March 2, Mr. Beecher suffered an apoplectic stroke and on the following Tuesday he died. No one who attended the services, held almost continuously during that week, can ever forget them. The dominant tone was one of the personal loss of a friend. There was grateful recognition of a magnificent service done for humanity, and for the building up of the Kingdom of God, but the greater work was almost lost sight of in the individual remembrances, the personal testimonies to the man who had helped men. On Sunday of that week came the regular communion service of the church. The usual sermon was omitted and only the Lord's Supper was commemorated. There were several evening meetings, mostly for prayer and mutual sympathy.

The manifestation of public sympathy surprised even those who knew best how widespread was the interest in the beloved pastor. As the coffin lay in the church on Thursday there was an unceasing line of those who wished to show their regard for him. On Friday the funeral services were conducted by Rev. Charles H. Hall, D. D., pastor of the First Presbyterian Church, to which Plymouth Church had succeeded in ownership of its site. As it was manifest that Plymouth Church could not possibly hold the crowds that wanted to come, simultaneous memorial services were held in other churches. Most of the business houses were closed, as were also the public offices of the city and the schools. Everywhere there was manifest the recognition that a great man had gone.

Who would take his place? Could anyone take his place? Was it not true that the relations between him and his church were so intimate, so vital, that the sundering of them by his death would inevitably involve the dissolution of the church? These were the questions asked everywhere by the public and probably in the consciousness of the members of the church itself, at least of a considerable number. Fortunately there was one already identified with the church for many years, who had come to it as a boy, had been very intimately associated with Mr. Beecher, and had entered most fully into his spirit and life. Dr. Lyman Abbott had already won for himself an independent position in the church and the literary life of the country. Glad to call himself a disciple of Mr. Beecher, he had been by no means a copyist, and held his own place. Far more than would have been possible for anyone not so intimately acquainted with the life of the church, he was able to fill the gap at least for the time being, and it seemed the natural thing when he was called to fill the pulpit and guide the church activities until it could decide on some permanent arrangement.

Probably there has never been seen a finer instance of loyalty to a church's best traditions than the experience of the following months. As was inevitable, the audiences fell off very materially. Still the church was fairly well filled and for the first time in years the ushers had a reasonably comfortable time. Yet examination proved that the loss was only of the strangers. Not a pewholder withdrew. There was no diminution in the active work of the church. Prayer meetings, Sabbath School, mission services continued as before. Even the finances did not suffer. It was naturally impracticable to keep up the high premiums on pews. Hitherto the Tuesday evening succeeding the first Sunday in the year had been a sort of gala time, when loyalty to Plymouth and its pastor and good-natured rivalry had combined to bring from the more wealthy members sums mounting into the thousands of dollars. The current year was safe, but anticipating the change that would be necessary, the leaders, indeed practically the whole church, renewed their pew leases at the same figure, so that there might be no question of financial disquiet for the new pastor, whoever he might be. Subsequently the whole method was changed, pew premiums giving place to the envelope system, under which the church has prospered greatly.

The immediate question of the conduct of the church being solved, the more important one of a permanent successor to Mr. Beecher was taken up in earnest. I do not think that the possibility of disbanding was for a moment present in the thought of any, certainly not of the leaders. They set about the work carefully with a clear realisation of the difficulties involved, but with a determination to succeed. It is always difficult to succeed a man of great individuality, and this general rule was made even more difficult in this case by the peculiar quality of the personality. The very intensity of the experiences of the past decade and more had served to create a certain alignment, and search as they would and did, it was difficult to find anyone to meet all the conditions.

It was not unnatural that the committee in charge, not, it must be remembered, of choosing a pastor, but of recommending one, or more, for the choice of both church and society, should look beyond the sea. More than one church had done so and with conspicuous success. Broadway Tabernacle had called Wm. M. Taylor, and Fifth Avenue Presbyterian, John Hall. Plymouth Church, at that time at least, was not likely to look to Scotland, nor to Ireland. There was absolutely nothing of the Presbyterian in its make-up. It was Independent, through and through. To the Congregationalists of England therefore it must look, if it were to go beyond its own immediate fellowship.

It seemed as if just the man was found in Rev. Charles A. Berry of Wolverhampton. A friend of Mr. Beecher, an earnest and very effective preacher, a man of great evangelistic power, he won the hearts of Plymouth people, and the recommendation of the committee was followed by a unanimous and most urgent call to him to become the pastor. How deeply he appreciated, not so much the honour, though such he esteemed it, as the token of affectionate confidence, was manifest both in his correspondence with the church and in the delay in announcing his answer. That he would have been glad to come is certain, equally so that he felt that duty to a work of peculiar quality and special need called him to stay with his own people. They were as dismayed at the possibility of losing him as Plymouth Church would have been had Mr. Beecher been called to another pulpit.

Mr. Berry's declination of the call brought Plymouth Church face to to face with a most difficult situation, at least it seemed so to many. In truth it was not so difficult as it seemed. Dr. Abbott had filled the pulpit with acceptance and had conducted the affairs of the church with rare tact. The pastoral work, which had for some years been practically in the hands of Rev. S. B. Halliday, went on as usual. Now that Mr. Berry was not to come, who could so well meet the need as the one who had stood them in good stead in the time of stress? It was therefore perfectly natural that thoughts should turn to Dr. Abbott, and when they had once started equally natural that he should be called. Accordingly, in the spring of 1888 he was invited to be pastor. He accepted, and after a summer's rest in Europe commenced the active work of the pastorate in September.