n oration to an immense crowd in the auditorium at
Ocean Grove. This was the beginning of a summer tour of Chautauquas,
first in Michigan, then up the lakes near Mackinaw Island, and later to
Jamestown, New York.

In the Fall of 1899 we made a trip South, including Nashville, Memphis,
Chattanooga, Birmingham, and New Orleans. One remarkable feature of Dr.
Talmage's public life was the way in which he was sought as the man of
useful opinions upon subjects that were not related to the pulpit. He
was always being interviewed upon political and local issues, and his
views were scattered broadcast, as if he were himself an official of
national affairs. He never failed to be ahead of the hour. He regarded
the affairs of men as the basis of his evangelical purpose. The Spanish
war ended, and his views were sought about the future policy in the
East. The Boer war came, and his opinions of that issue were published.
Nothing moved in or out of the world of import, during these last
milestones of his life, that he was not asked about its coming and its
going. His readiness to penetrate the course of events, to wrap them in
the sacred veil of his own philosophy and spiritual fabric, combined to
make him one of the foremost living characters of his time.

Dr. Talmage was the most eager human being I ever knew, eager to see, to
feel the heart of all humanity. I remember we arrived in Birmingham,
Alabama, the day following the disaster that visited that city after the
great cyclone. The first thing the Doctor did on our arrival was to get
a carriage and drive through those sections of the city that had
suffered the most. It was a gruesome sight, with so many bodies lying
about the streets awaiting burial. But that was his grasp of life, his
indomitable energy, always alert to see and hear the laws of nature at
close range.

We were entertained a great deal through the South, where I believe my
husband had the warmest friends and a more cordial appreciation than in
any other part of the country. There was no lack of excitement in this
life that I was leading at the elbow of the great preacher, and
sometimes he would ask me if the big crowds did not tire me. To him they
were the habit of his daily life, a natural consequence of his industry.
However, I think he always found me equal to them, always happy to be
near him where I could see and hear all.

In October of this year we returned to Washington, when the
Pan-Presbyterian Counc