We have thus followed Henry Ward Beecher from the cradle to the moment that he stands prepared to enter upon his life-work; have noted every step of his course from the hills to the sea, from school to college, from the East to the West; have marked the influences of the home, of nature, of the city, of school, college, and seminary, of the times, of the Word and Spirit of God; have traced his experiences, felt his dawning strength, examined the life he lived, the dispositions he manifested, the hopes he cherished, and the character he formed; and in our confidence and admiration choose, as not inappropriate for him at this time, the description of “The Patrone of true Holinesse” in the “Faerie Queene”:
“Full iolly knight he seemed, and faire did sitt,
As one for knightly giusts and fierce encounters fitt;
And on his brest a bloodie crosse he bore,
The deare remembrance of his dying Lord,
For whose sweete sake that glorious badge he wore,
And dead, as living ever, Him ador’d:
Upon his shield the like was also scor’d,
For soveraine hope, which in His helpe he had,
Right faithfull true he was in deede and word;
But of his cheere did seeme too solemne sad;
Yet nothing did he dread, but ever was ydrad.”
CHAPTER IX.
Call to Preach—License—Examination by Miami Presbytery—Refusal to Subscribe to Old School—Ordination by Oxford Presbytery—Visit East—Marriage—Housekeeping.
In the early spring of 1837 Mr. Beecher graduated from Lane Seminary. In accordance with the practice of the Presbyterian Church, a clergyman might be licensed to preach, even though not ordained; but such license could only be obtained after the applicant had appeared before the Presbytery for examination, and he was required also to read a “trial lecture,” as it was called. Agreeably to this custom, upon graduating from the Seminary Mr. Beecher went before the Cincinnati Presbytery, was examined, and read his “trial lecture.” The examination and lecture seem to have been satisfactory, for he was duly licensed to preach.
For a few weeks prior to his examination for license he preached in a little hall at Covington, Kentucky, just across the river from Cincinnati. He seriously contemplated settling there as soon as he should be licensed.
“After preaching there [Covington] three or four Sundays I was called, by Martha Sawyer, a Yankee woman, to go to Lawrenceburg and preach. There was a church in that place, composed of about twenty members, of which she was the factotum. She collected the money, she was the treasurer, she was the manager, she was the trustee, she was the everything of that church.”
At this time the pulpit of the little, struggling Presbyterian church at Lawrenceburg, Indiana, was vacant, and one of the ladies of that church came up to Cincinnati to see if Bishop Little could not secure for them a pastor. The good bishop introduced her to young Henry Ward Beecher. This led to his preaching one or two trial sermons at Lawrenceburg. The result of the experiment seemed to be satisfactory on both sides, although the first sermon was said to have been a lamentable failure through the nervous apprehensions of the young preacher in facing the unusually large audience of one hundred persons.
In May, 1837, he moved to Lawrenceburg and began preaching regularly as a licentiate, not yet ordained.
It may not be uninteresting to read just here the brief memoranda from the journal which he was keeping then:
“May 4 [1837].—Returned from Lawrenceburg. I think seriously of settling there—a destitute place indeed. …
“If I go to Lawrenceburg, remember you can gain men easily if you get round their prejudices and put truth in their minds; but never if you attack prejudices. Look well at this. …
”Mem.—My people must be alert to make the church agreeable, to give seats and wait on strangers, etc.“
”June 15, Thursday.—To-day received call from Lawrenceburg, and a very flattering call it was and did my heart good. Meeting called June 12, 1837; about 30 persons present. Mr. Hunt, moderator; D. S. Mayer, sec. Vote for me unanimous. Blank filled for $250, with but one dissenting voice (he voting for double that sum).“
”Monday, July 10.—Sat. eve., 8th, arrived here permanently to remain. …
“I mean to write down little plans and devices for pastoral labor as they occur; I may else forget them.
“1. In different districts get men quietly to feel themselves responsible for progress of temperance or Sunday-schools.
“2. Quietly to visit from house to house and secure congregations.
“3. Secure a large congregation. Let this be the first thing. For this—
“1. Preach well uniformly.
“2. Visit widely and produce a personal attachment; also wife do same.
“3. Get the young to love me.
“4. See that the church have this presented as a definite thing, and set them to this work just as directly as I would to raising a fund, building, etc.
“4. Little girls’ societies for benevolent purposes.”
The town was small, scarce fifteen hundred inhabitants, located at the junction of the Ohio and Miami rivers—just across the Miami from Ohio on the east, and the Ohio River from Kentucky on the south—subject to devastating floods from both rivers impartially.
The church was small, with meagre accommodations, the people poor. We quote his description of the place and church:
“You can form some conception of that field when I tell you that it was a place where they had four gigantic distilleries, from which was carried to market a steamboat-load of liquor every day. When I went there and entered upon my vocation of preaching, I found a church, occupying a little brick building, with nineteen or twenty members. There was one man, and the rest were women. With the exception of two persons, there was not one of them who was not obliged to gain a livelihood by the labor of the hands. So you will understand how very poor they were. I could not, of course, obtain my living in so small a church, and in a community that was not overblessed with wealth. I was taken up, therefore, as a pensioner by the Home Missionary Society, and my first two years were spent in the field as a missionary, in part supported by the funds of this society.
“I was sexton in the church. There were no lamps there, so I went and bought some, and filled them and lit them. I swept the church and lighted my own fires. I did not ring the bell, because there was none. I opened the church before every meeting, and shut and locked it after every meeting. I took care of everything in the church.”
Here in this little frontier village, then upon the very borders of civilization, began his real work. For twenty-four years he had been preparing for this step. Now it must be determined whether his life should be a success or a failure.
The year passed uneventfully, and it was not until September, 1838, when he applied for ordination, that he got his first taste of trouble.
At