I heard Lyman Beecher, then a very old man, before a meeting
of the members of the Massachusetts Legislature in 1852, when
the measure known as the Maine Liquor Law was pending. He
bore unmistakable marks of advanced age. But there were one
or two passages that showed the power of the orator, one especially
in which he described the beauty and delight of our homes,
and intemperance threatening them with its waves like a great
sea of fire.
I saw Henry Ward Beecher several times in private, and had
pleasant talks with him. But I am sorry to say I never heard
him speak, so far as I can now remember, on any occasion when
he put forth his power. But if half that is told of his speeches,
during the Civil War, some of them to hostile and angry audiences,
be true, he was a consummate master. One story is told of
him which I suppose is true, and, if it be true, ranks him
as one of the greatest masters of his art that ever lived.
It is said that he was speaking to a great crowd in Birmingham,
or perhaps Liverpool, which constantly goaded him with hostile
interruptions, so that he had great difficulty in getting
on.
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