wasted no time in his study that he could devote to others, he was
always busy raising money to pay house rent for some poor woman,
exhausting his energies in trying to keep people out of trouble,
answering the call of every school, of every reformatory, every
philanthropic institution. Had he given more time to study, he would
hardly have had an equal in the American pulpit. He depended always upon
the inspiration of the moment. Sometimes he failed on this account. I
have heard him when he had the pathos of a Summerfield, the wit of a
Sidney Smith, and the wondrous thundering phraseology of a Thomas
Carlyle. He had been everywhere, seen everything, experienced great
variety of gladness, grief, and betrayal. If you had lost a child, he
was the first man at your side to console you. If you had a great joy,
his was the first telegram to congratulate you. For two years he was in
Congress. His Sundays in Washington were spent preaching in pulpits of
all denominations. The first time I ever saw him was when he came to my
house in Philadelphia, ringing the door bell, that he might assuage a
great sorrow that had come to me. He was always in the shadowed home.
How much the world owes to such a nature is beyond the world's gift to
return. His wit was of the kind that, like the dew, refreshes. He never
laughed at anything but that which ought to be laughed at. He never
dealt in innuendoes that tipped both ways. We were old friends of many
vicissitudes. Together we wept and laughed and planned. He had such
subtle ways of encouragement--as when he told me that he had read a
lecture of mine to his dying daughter, and described how it had
comforted her. His was a life of profound self-sacrifice, but "weeping
may endure for a night, but joy cometh in the morning."

The new year of 1887 began with a controversy that filled the air with
unpleasant confusion. A small river of ink was poured upon it, a vast
amount of talk was made about it. A priest in the Roman Catholic Church,
Father McGlynn, was arraigned by Archbishop Corrigan for putting his
hand in the hot water of politics. In various ways I was asked my
opinion of it all. My most decided opinion was that outsiders had better
keep their hands out of the trouble. The interference of people outside
of a church with its internal affairs only makes things worse. The
policy of any church is best known by its own members. The controversy
was not a matter into which I could consistently