preaching of the Gospel has always been my chosen work, I believe
I was called to it, and I shall never abandon it."

During this season in Washington we gave a few formal dinners. My
husband wished it, and he was a cheerful, magnetic host, though he
accepted few invitations to dinner himself. No wine was served at these
dinners, and yet they were by no means dull or tiresome. Our guests were
men of ideas, men like Justice Brewer, Speaker Reed, Senator Burrows,
Justice Harlan, Vice-President Fairbanks, Governor Stone, and Senators
who have since become members of the old guard. It was said in
Washington at the time that Dr. Talmage's dinner parties were
delightful, because they were ostensible opportunities to hear men talk
who had something to say. The Doctor was liberal-minded about
everything, but his standards of conduct were the laws of his life that
no one could jeopardise or deny.

A very prominent society woman came to Dr. Talmage one day to ask the
favour that he preach a temperance sermon for the benefit of Sir Wilfrid
Laurier, whom she wanted to interest in temperance legislation. She
promised to bring him to the Doctor's church for that purpose.

"Madame, I shall be very glad to have Sir Wilfrid Laurier attend my
church," said the Doctor, "but I never preach at anybody. Your request
is something I cannot agree to." The lady was a personal friend, and she
persisted. Finally the Doctor said to her:

"Mrs. G----, my wife and I are invited to meet Sir Wilfrid Laurier at a
dinner in your house next week. Will you omit the wines at that dinner?"
The lady admitted that that would be impossible.

"Then you see, Madame, how difficult it would be for me to alter my
principles as a preacher." In May, 1899, Dr. Talmage and I left
Washington and went to East Hampton--alone. Contrary to his usual custom
of closing his summer home between seasons, the Doctor had allowed a
minister and his family to live there for three months. Diphtheria had
developed in the family during that time and the Doctor ordered
everything in the house to be burned, and the walls scraped. So the
whole house had to be refurnished, and the Doctor and I together
selected the furniture. It was a joyous time, it was like redecorating
our lives with a new charm and sentiment that was intimately beautiful
and refreshing. I remember the tenderness with which the Doctor showed
me a place on the door of the barn where his son DeWitt, who died, had
carv