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So I just took hold of him, laid him face down over my knee, and proceeded to impress him as our fathers used to do of old. And, do you know, I found that the Lord had not made a place on him for me to lay my hand upon." And in the laughter which met this sally Mr. Beecher ended with "You see, it isn't always possible to broaden a man." Mr. Beecher was rarely angry.
Kimball was feelin' mighty funny, 'n' he hollered to her 't she wa'n't the first to have her faith shook by Henry Ward Beecher, but we was all too considerate for her feelin's to laugh. I wouldn't laugh at a joke o' Mr. Kimball's anyhow." "I wish " said Mrs. Lathrop mildly.
Are her fetters due only to his unfair domination? Or is she suffering from the generally bungling way things go in the world? And is not man a victim as well as she caught in the same trap? Moreover, is woman never a tyrant? One of the first answers to her original revolt came from the most eminent woman of the day, Harriet Beecher Stowe, and it was called "Pink and White Tyranny!"
It was the era of our greatest orators, Phillips and Beecher; of our greatest editors, led by Greeley and Raymond; of our greatest poets and scholars, Whittier and Lowell and Emerson; and of our greatest President, the Martyr of Emancipation.
You said so. 'And then a muslin fichu coming over here. 'How perfectly sweet! cried Maude. 'And the waist cut high, and ruffles at the sleeves. And, of course, a picture hat you know what I mean with a curling ostrich feather. 'Powdered hair, of course? said Mrs. Beecher. 'Powdered in ringlets. 'It will suit you admirably beautifully.
Witness Stratton's conversation with the drunken bookbinder whom we know as John B. Gough, the apostle of temperance. Witness Moffat's words that changed David Livingstone, the weaver, into David Livingstone, the savior of Africa. Witness Garibaldi's words fashioning the Italian mob into the conquering army. Witness Garrison and Beecher and Phillips and John Bright.
All that day the fight was waged. Major Forsythe was wounded three times; Lieutenant Beecher was killed; Surgeon Mooers was dying; all the horses were dead; horse-flesh was the only food and the enemy had ringed the island with rifle-fire. This evening volunteers were called for, to steal through the deadly circle and carry messages to Fort Wallace, one hundred miles south.
Beecher in his "Autobiography" gives a sketch of the politics of the time that had led up to the occasion. One of the prominent actors of the time, he tells us that this meeting, composed of prominent Federalists of all classes, was unusual, for it was a new thing in that day for the clergy and laymen to meet on the same level and co-operate.
From the lecherous, but learned and logical Beecher to the gabbling inanity now doing the drum-major act, is a long stride. Now the very Old Nick is to pay at the World's Fair, and an exasperating stringency in the money market. The great "uncultured West" is flocking to Chicago to see the show, and is seeing more than it bargained for.
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.
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