ster, and the mother divided her time among several children,
so that no especial attention was paid to Henry Ward, nor was he
considered more promising than some of the others. He was not, by any
means, fond of books in early life. He gives the following sketch of
himself in one of his personal writings: 'A hazy image of myself comes
back to me--a lazy, dreamy boy, with his head on the desk, half-lulled
asleep by the buzzing of a great blue-bottle fly, and the lowing of the
cows, and the tinkling of their bells, brought into the open door,
across the fields and meadows.' Through the advice of his father, he
attended Mount Pleasant Academy. Afterwards he attended Amherst College
where he graduated in 1834. During his last two years of school, Beecher
followed the example of many another young man who has since attained
eminence in his chosen profession, and taught in district schools. With
the money thus obtained he laid the foundation upon which he built that
splendid superstructure which is recalled at the sound of his name.

Dr. Lyman Beecher meanwhile had accepted a professorship at Lane
Seminary, Cincinnati, and having decided to follow the ministry, the son
went West this same year and began the study of theology under his
father. He finished his course three years later, married, and accepted
the first charge offered him; a small Presbyterian Church in
Lawrenceburg, a little town on the Ohio river, near Cincinnati. Of this
dismal beginning of his illustrious career he said:

"How poor we were! There were only about twenty persons in the flock. I
was janitor as well as pastor of the little white-washed church. I
bought some lamps and I filled them and lighted them. I swept the church
and dusted the benches, and kindled the fire, and I didn't ring the
bell, because there wasn't any; did everything in fact but come to hear
myself preach, that they had to do. It doesn't occur to me now that
Lawrenceburg was remarkable for anything but a superabundance of
distilleries. I used to marvel how so many large distilleries could be
put in so small a town. But they were flourishing right in the face of
the Gospel, that my little flock and I were preaching in the shadows of
the chimneys. My thoughts often travel back to my quaint little church
and the big distilleries at Lawrenceburg. Well, my next move was to
Indianapolis. There I had a more considerable congregation, though I was
still far from rich in the world's goods. I b