"We want $100,000, which, added to the insurance, will build what is needed. I make appeal to all our friends throughout Christendom, to all denominations, to all creeds and to those of no creed at all, to come to our rescue. I ask all readers of my sermons the world over to contribute as far as their means will allow. What we do as a Church depends upon the immediate response made to this call. I was on the eve of departure for a brief visit to the Holy Land that I might be better prepared for my work here, but that visit must be postponed. I cannot leave until something is done to decide our future.
"May the G.o.d who has our destiny as individuals and as churches in His hand appear for our deliverance!
"Responses to this appeal to the people may be sent to me in Brooklyn, and I will with my own hand acknowledge the receipt thereof.
"T. DEWITT TALMAGE."
I had planned to sail for the Holy Land on October 30, but the disaster that had come upon us seemed to make it impossible. I had almost given it up. There followed such an universal response to my appeal, such a remarkable current of sympathy, however, that completely overwhelmed me, so that by the grace of G.o.d I was able to sail. To the trustees of the Tabernacle much of this was due. They were the men who stood by me, my friends, my advisers. I record their names as the Christian guardians of my destiny through danger and through safety. They were Dr. Harrison A.
Tucker, John Wood, Alexander McLean, E.H. Lawrence, and Charles Darling.
In a note-book I find recorded also the names of some of the first subscribers to the new Tabernacle. They were the real builders. Wechsler and Abraham were among the first to contribute $100, "Texas Siftings"
through J. Amory Knox sent $25, and "Judge" forwarded a cheque for the same amount, with the declaration that all other periodicals in the United States ought to go and do likewise. A.E. Coates sent $200, E.M.
Knox $200, A.J. Nutting $100, Benjamin L. Fairchild $100, Joseph E.
Carson $100, Haviland and Sons $25, Francis H. Stuart, M.D., $25, Giles F. Bushnell $25, and Pauline E. Martin $25.
Even the small children, the poor, the aged, sent in their dollars.
About one thousand dollars was contributed the first day. Everything was done by the trustees and the people, to expedite the plans of the New Tabernacle so that in two weeks from the date of the fire I broke ground for what was to be the largest church in the world of a Protestant denomination, on the corner of Clinton and Greene Avenues. That afternoon of October 28, 1889, when I stood in the enclosure arranged for me, and consecrated the ground to the word of G.o.d, was another moment of supreme joy to me. It was said that those who witnessed the ceremony were impressed with the importance of it in the course of my own life and in the history of Christianity. To me it was akin to those pregnant hours of my life through which I had pa.s.sed in great exaltation of spiritual fervour.
My words of consecration were brief, as follows:
"May the Lord G.o.d of Abraham, and Isaac, and Jacob, and Joshua, and Paul, and John Knox, and John Wesley, and Hugh Latimer, and Bishop McIlvaine take possession of this ground and all that shall be built upon it."
Before me was a vision of that church, its Gothic arches, its splendour of stained-gla.s.s windows, its spires and gables, and, as I saw this our third Tabernacle rise up before me, I prayed that its windows might look out into the next world as well as this. I was glad that I had waited to turn that bit of G.o.d-like earth on the old Marshall homestead in Brooklyn, for it filled my heart with a spiritual promise and potency that was an invisible cord binding me during my pilgrimage to Jordan with my congregation which I had left behind.
With Mrs. Talmage and my daughter, May Talmage, I sailed on the "City of Paris," on October 30, 1889, to complete the plan I had dreamed of for years. I had been reverently anxious to actually see the places a.s.sociated with our Lord"s life and death. I wanted to see Bethlehem and Nazareth, and Jerusalem and Calvary, so intimately connected with the ministry of our Saviour. I had arranged to write a Life of Christ, and this trip was imperative. In that book is the complete record of this journey, therefore I feel that other things that have not been told deserve the s.p.a.ce here that would otherwise belong to my recollections of the Holy Land. It was reported that while in Jerusalem I made an effort to purchase Calvary and the tomb of our Saviour, so as to present it to the Christian Church at large. I was so impressed with the fact that part of this sacred ground was being used as a Mohammedan cemetery that I was inspired to buy it in token of respect to all Christendom. Of course this led to much criticism, but that has never stopped my convictions. I was away for two months, returning in February, 1890.
During my absence our Sunday services were conducted by the most talented preachers we could secure. With the exception of a few days"
influenza while I was in Paris, in January, just prior to my return, the trip was a glorious success. According to the editorial opinion of one newspaper I had "discovered a new Adam that was to prove a puissant ally in his future struggles with the old Adam." This was not meant to be friendly, but I prefer to believe that it was so after all. In England I was promised, if I would take up a month"s preaching tour there, that the English people would subscribe five thousand pounds to the new Tabernacle. These and other invitations were tempting, but I could not alter my itinerary.
While in England I received an invitation from Mr. Gladstone to visit him at Hawarden. He wired me, "pray come to Hawarden to-morrow," and on January 24, 1890, I paid my visit. I was staying at the Grand Hotel in London when the telegram was handed to me. With the rest of the world, at that time, I regarded Mr. Gladstone as the most wonderful man of the century.
He came into the room at Hawarden where I was waiting for him, an alert, eager, kindly man. He was not the grand old man in spirit, whatever he may have been in age. He was lithe of body, his step was elastic. He held out both his hands in a cordial welcome. He spoke first of the wide publication of my sermons in England, and questioned me about them. In a few minutes he proposed a walk, and calling his dog we started out for what was in fact a run over his estate. Gladstone was the only man I ever met who walked fast enough for me. Over the hills, through his magnificent park, everywhere he pointed out the stumps of trees which he had cut down. Once a guest of his, an English lord, had died emulating Gladstone"s strenuous custom. He showed me the place.
"No man who has heart disease ought to use the axe," he said; "that very stump is the place where my friend used it, and died."
He rallied the American tendency to exaggerate things in a story he told with great glee, about a fabulous tree in California, where two men cutting at it on opposite sides for many days were entirely oblivious of each other"s presence. Each one believed himself to be a lone woodsman in the forest until, after a long time, they met with surprise at the heart of the tree. American stories seemed to tickle him immensely. He told another kindred one of a fish in American lakes, so large that when it was taken out of the water the lake was perceptibly lowered. He grew buoyant, breezy, fanciful in the brisk winter air. Like his dog, he was tingling with life. He liked to throw sticks for him, to see him jump and run.
"Look at that dog"s eyes, isn"t he a fine fellow?" he kept asking. His knowledge of the trees on his estate was historical. He knew their lineage and characteristics from the date of their sapling age, four or five hundred years before. The old and decrepit aristocrats of his forest were tenderly bandaged, their arms in splints.
"Look at that sycamore," he said; "did you find in the Holy Land any more thrifty than that? You know sometimes I am described as destroying my trees. I only destroy the bad to help the good. Since I have thrown my park open to visitors the privilege has never been abused."
We drifted upon all subjects, rational, political, religious, ethical.
"Divorce in your country, is it not a menace?" he asked.
"The great danger is re-marriage. It should be forbidden for divorced persons. I understand that in your State of South Carolina there is no divorce. I believe that is the right idea. If re-marriage were impossible then divorce would be impossible," he replied to his own question.
Gladstone"s religious instinct was prophetic in its grasp. His intellectual approval of religious intention was the test of his faith.
He applied to the exaltations of Christianity the reason of human fact.
I was forcibly impressed with this when he told me of an incident in his boyhood.
"I read something in "Augustine" when I was a boy," he said, "which struck me then with great force. I still feel it to-day. It was the pa.s.sage which says, "When the human race rebelled against G.o.d, the lower nature of man as a consequence rebelled against the higher nature.""
I asked him then if the years had strengthened or weakened his Christian faith. We were racing up hill. He stopped suddenly on the hillside and regarded me with a searching earnestness, a solemnity that made me quake. Then he spoke slowly, more seriously:
"Dr. Talmage, my only hope for the world is in the bringing of the human mind into contact with divine revelation. Nearly all the men at the top in our country are believers in the Christian religion. The four leading physicians of England are devout Christian men. I, myself, have been in the Cabinet forty-seven years, and during all that time I have been a.s.sociated with sixty of the chief intellects of the century. I can think of but five of those sixty who did not profess the Christian religion, but those five men respected it. We may talk about questions of the day here and there, but there is only one question, and that is how to apply the Gospel to all circ.u.mstances and conditions. It can and will correct all that is wrong. Have you, in America, any of the terrible agnosticism that we have in Europe? I am glad none of my children are afflicted with it."
I asked him if he did not believe that many people had no religion in their heads, but a good religion in their hearts.
"I have no doubt of it, and I can give you an ill.u.s.tration," he said.
"Yesterday, Lord Napier was buried in St. Paul"s Cathedral. After the war in Africa Lord Napier was here for a few days, at the invitation of Mrs. Gladstone and myself, and we walked as we are walking now. He told me this story. I cannot remember his exact words. He said that just when the troops were about to leave Africa there was a soldier with a broken leg. He was too sick to take along, but to leave him behind seemed barbaric. Lord Napier ordered him to be carried, but he soon became too ill to go any further. Lord Napier went to a native woman well known in that country for her kindness, and asked her to take care of the soldier. To ensure his care she was offered a good sum of money. I remember her reply as Lord Napier repeated it to me. "No, I will not take care of this wounded soldier for the money you offer me," she said; "I have no need of the money. My father and mother have a comfortable tent, and I have a good tent; why should I take the money? If you will leave him here I will take care of him for the sake of the love of G.o.d.""
Gladstone was in the thick of political scrimmage over Home Rule, and he talked about it with me.
"It seems the dispensation of G.o.d that I should be in the battle," he said; "but it is not to my taste. I never had any option in the matter.
I dislike contests, but I could not decline this controversy without disgrace. When Ireland showed herself ready to adopt a righteous const.i.tution, and do her full duty, I hesitated not an hour."
Two nights before, at a speech in Chester, Mr. Gladstone had declared that the increase of the American navy would necessitate the increase of the British navy. I rallied him about this statement, and he said, "Oh!
Americans like to hear the plain truth. The fact is, the tie between the two nations is growing closer every year."
It was a bitter cold day and yet Mr. Gladstone wore only a very light cape, reaching scarcely to his knees.
"I need nothing more on me," he said; "I must have my legs free."
After luncheon he took me into his library, a wonderful place, a treasure-house in itself, a bookman"s palace. The books had been arranged and catalogued according to a system of his own invention. He showed many presents of American books and pictures sent to him.
"Outside of America there is no one who is bound to love it more than I do," he said, "you see, I am almost surrounded by the evidences of American kindnesses." He gave me some books and pamphlets about himself, and his own Greek translation of "Jesus, Lover of my Soul." Mrs.
Gladstone had been obliged to leave before we returned from our walk.
Mr. Gladstone took me into a room, however, and showed me a beautiful sculptured portrait of her, made when she was twenty-two.
"She is only two years younger than I am, but in complete health and vigour," he said proudly.
He came out upon the steps to bid me good-bye. Bareheaded, his white hair flowing in the wind, he stood in the cold and I begged him to go in. I expressed a wish that he might come to America.
"I am too old now," he said, wistfully, I thought.
"Is it the Atlantic you object to?" I asked.
"Oh! I am not afraid of the ocean," he said, as though there were perhaps some other reason.
"Tell your country I watch every turn of its history with a heart of innermost admiration," he called after me. I carried Gladstone"s message at once, going straight from Hawarden to America, as I had intended when leaving London.
I was prepared for a reception in Brooklyn on my return, but I never dreamed it would be the ovation it was. It becomes difficult to write of these personal courtesies, as I find them increasing in the progress of my life from now on. I trust the casual reader will not construe anything in these pages into a boastful desire to spread myself in too large letters in print.
When I entered the Thirteenth Regiment Armoury on the evening of February 7, 1890, it was packed from top to floor. It was a large building with its three acres of drill floor and its half mile of galleries. There were over seven thousand people there, so the newspapers estimated. Against the east wall was the speaker"s platform, and over it in big letters of fire burned the word "Welcome."
On the stage, when I arrived at eight o"clock, were Mayor Chapin, Colonel Austen, General Alfred C. Barnes, the Rev. J. Benson Hamilton, Judge Clement, Mr. Andrew McLean, the Rev. Leon Harrison, ex-Mayor Whitney, the Hon. David A. Boody, U.S. Marshal Stafford, Judge Courtney, Postmaster Hendrix, John Y. Culver, Mark D. Wilber, Commissioner George V. Brower, the Rev. E.P. Terhune, General Horatio C. King, William E.
Robinson and several others.