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to call a “political harangue.” I am sorry, too, that you think I made an ass of myself. In this connection I have but one consolation: that you didn’t make an ass of yourself. The Lord did that.
HENRY WARD BEECHER.
When the Reverend T. De Witt Talmage began to come into public notice in Brooklyn, some of Mr. Beecher’s overzealous followers unwisely gave the impression that the Plymouth preacher resented sharing with another the pulpit fame which he alone had so long unquestioningly held. Nothing, of course, was further from Mr. Beecher’s mind. As a matter of fact, the two men were exceedingly good friends. Mr. Beecher once met Doctor Talmage in a crowded business thoroughfare, where they got so deeply interested in each other’s talk that they sat down in some chairs standing in front of a furniture store. A gathering throng of intensely amused people soon brought the two men to the realization that they had better move. Then Mr. Beecher happened to see that back of their heads had been, respectively, two signs: one reading, “This style $3.45,” the other, “This style $4.25.”
“Well,” said Mr. Beecher, as he and Doctor Talmage walked away laughing, “I was ticketed higher than you, Talmage, anyhow.”
“You’re worth more,” rejoined Doctor Talmage.
On another occasion, as the two men met they began to bandy each other.
“Now, Talmage,” said Mr. Beecher, his eyes twinkling, “let’s have it out. My people say that Plymouth holds more people than the Tabernacle, and your folks |
