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 Charles Lemuel Thompson 
 
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CHARLES LEMUEL THOMPSON 
 
BY 
 Charles L.' Thompson, D. D. 
 
 The Soul of America 
 
 The Contribution of Presbyterian 
 Home Missions. 12mo, illustrated, 
 cloth, net $1.25; paper, net 50c. 
 
 A lucid, clearly defined statement of what 
 has been done on the North American con- 
 tinent, in Home Mission field by the Pres- 
 byterian Church. 
 
 The Religious Foundations 
 of America 
 
 12mo, cloth, net $1.50. 
 
 **The 400th anniversary of the Reforma- 
 tion makes this a timely treatise, as well as 
 a storehouse of valuable information—polit- 
 ical, historic and religious. . . . A valuable 
 cyclopedia of the religious beginnings of our 
 country.”"—The Missionary Survey. 
 
 
 
- Digitized by the Internet Archive 
 in 2022 with funding from 
 Princeton Theological Seminary Library 
 
 | https://archive.org/details/charleslemueltho00thom 
 

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
Charles Lemuel Thon neon 
 
 An Autobiography 
 
 EDITED BY 
 ELIZABETH OSBORN THOMPSON 
 
 WITH INTRODUCTION BY 
 JOHN A. MARQUIS, D.D. 
 
 General Secretary, Board of National Missions, 
 Presbyterian Church, U. S. A. 
 
 
 
 New York CHICAGO 
 
 Fleming H. Revell Company 
 
 LoNDON AND EDINBURGH 
 
Copyright, 1924, by 
 FLEMING H. REVELL COMPANY 
 
 Printed in the United States of America 
 
 New York: 158 Fifth Avenue 
 Chicago: 17 North Wabash Ave. 
 London: 21 Paternoster Square 
 Edinburgh: 75 Princes Street 
 
Introduction 
 
 HIS is earth’s story of a soul that never grew 
 Ab old. Charles L. Thompson and decrepitude 
 were strangers—as much when he was 
 eighty as when he was twenty. During his five- 
 and-eighty years he saw much of life,—more by 
 far than falls to the lot of the average educated 
 American. He touched life at a hundred angles 
 and drank deep of both sides of its experience. 
 Like Paul, he knew how to suffer and how to 
 abound. As these pages reveal, he knew the bitter- 
 ness of life’s sorrows, as well as the sweetness of 
 its joys and the thrill of its triumphs. He knew 
 the weakness and limitations of sickness as well as 
 the freedom and strength of abounding health. 
 Yet the youthful radiance and buoyance of his 
 soul remained unchanged. He was a poet, but he 
 never sang the songs of gloom. Like all artistic 
 natures he was emotional, and had a rare gift of 
 expressing emotion in all its shades, but not a tinge 
 of pessimism or unfaith or even depression appears 
 in his life history. 
 
 This is one of the things that makes us glad he 
 has left these memoirs. He tells them simply, 
 modestly, and, as all who knew him would expect, 
 delightfully. They can be recommended as a cure 
 
 7 
 
8 INTRODUCTION 
 
 for soured spirits. He took life in a big way and 
 never allowed the meanness of petty opposition to 
 pull him down from the heights or turn his gaze 
 from the face of God. He had opposition, as all 
 far-visioned men have, most of it because his ideals 
 were too big for some people to understand, but 
 when it was especially little and unreasonable he 
 went home and wrote a song of radiant trust in 
 God and glorious faith in his brethren. He was 
 irrepressibly good-natured and great-hearted. 
 
 If this book were a biography instead of an- 
 autobiography, one would feel compelled to criti- 
 cize it. Dr. Thompson does not do himself justice 
 as a leader of men. Only between the lines do we 
 get a hint of the vast service he rendered the 
 Church of Christ and his fellow-men. The appreci- 
 ations appended to the book, especially those of Dr. 
 Warren H. Wilson and Rev. Hermann N. Morse, 
 reveal something of this side of his life. He was 
 one of the great spiritual statesmen of his day. He 
 conceived and inaugurated more movements in the 
 direction of interdenominational cooperation and 
 unity than any other Christian leader of the last 
 half-century. They were not flashes in the pan; they 
 are living and serving today and growing stronger 
 and more useful each year. He possessed that 
 rare kind of insight which sees not only need but 
 the right thing to meet it. It is not often that the 
 Lord makes a poet, an orator and a practical leader 
 in one man. When Dr. Thompson retired from 
 
INTRODUCTION 9 
 
 the General Secretaryship of the Board of Home 
 Missions, the General Assembly, which was not 
 always able to see the full length of his vision and 
 sometimes feared to follow where he blazed new 
 trails, put on record this witness to the value of 
 his leadership: 
 
 “His prophetic vision and utterance, his inspiring 
 leadership, his indomitable courage, his large-minded 
 statesmanship, have combined to make his services to 
 the Church such as can never be forgotten. The re- 
 ligious life of America will be forever different be- 
 cause of what he has seen and hoped and worked out. 
 Nor is it only in our own branch of the Church that 
 his service has had meaning and value. For under 
 his leadership, the work has been such that other 
 divisions of the Church have looked to the Board of 
 Home Missions of the Presbyterian Church for their 
 guidance and inspiration. We thank God, that if he 
 must lay down his task, it can be with the glad con- 
 sciousness that he has served the Church of God as 
 it is given to few men to serve her.” 
 
 Charles L. Thompson put his mark on the life 
 of America in the period of her greatest expansion 
 and the years will not efface it. 
 
 Joun A. Margulis. 
 
 158 Fifth Avenue, 
 New York, N.Y. 
 
Pea dona 
 
 COPD ety 
 
 Ree aya 
 , in] 
 
 
 
Editor’s Note 
 4 bh writer of these memoirs did not 
 
 live to complete them. He had writ- 
 
 ten on them occasionally for several 
 years, as his fancy moved him, but he had 
 not arranged the material as he would have 
 wished it to appear in its final form, nor had 
 he put in the many little anecdotes and per- 
 sonal touches which would have brightened 
 the pages, could he himself have completed 
 the work. A few of his poems have been 
 inserted in the book, because his deepest 
 thought was frequently expressed in verse. 
 
 It is probable that there are many omis- 
 sions, both as regards people he loved, and 
 work which he performed, which he would 
 have filled in if he had fully prepared the 
 manuscript. 
 
 He took it with him to the seashore, for 
 his hope was strong that the healing breezes 
 would give him strength to finish the work, 
 and to carry out yet other plans for his life 
 here, but in a few days the summons came, 
 and he fell asleep, and so slipped away with- 
 out suffering, and with the peace that pass- 
 eth understanding in his heart. 
 
 1k Ord bi 
 New York. 
 
 11 
 
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 Sse 
 
 a 5 
 Sinn 
 
 
 
VII. 
 
 Contents 
 
 . Earuy Lire 
 
 A Test. 
 
 . PRINCETON 
 
 Paganini. 
 
 . CINCINNATI 
 
 The King of Glory. 
 
 . CHICAGO 
 
 Psalm CXXI. 
 
 . PITTSBURGH 
 
 Island Lake Camp-Fire. 
 
 TIAN SAS I CTTY 
 
 Nearing Home. 
 
 . THE CENTENNIAL ASSEMBLY 
 
 The Devil’s White Fleet. 
 
 New York 
 Sunrise on the Bay. 
 
 . THE SECRETARYSHIP 
 
 Sentinel Rocks. 
 
 . EXPANSION 
 
 To the Absent. 
 13 
 
 17 
 
 a, 
 
 45 
 
 59 
 
 73 
 
 87 
 
 D7 
 
 on LOD 
 
 Wiles 
 
 So She 
 
14 
 
 XI. 
 XII, 
 
 XIII. 
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 GROWTH OF DEPARTMENTS. .. . 149 
 Harp of ig Ages. 
 
 THe Home Missions Counci, . . 165 
 The Sea ts Hts. 
 
 OVERSEAS iti AMM imine One a a tees 
 Wireless. 
 
 . FurRTHER WANDERINGS anh ape mart 1 2 4 
 The Hills. 
 
 ) ORCHARD (NOOK Uitte wi ences 
 W ating. 
 
 . A Few of THE EIGHTIETH BrirtTH- 
 DAV LETTERS Oey noes on ee 
 Retrospect. 
 
 . A Few GENERAL Letters .° . 2255 
 A Comrade. 
 
 . APPRECIATIONS Be Ae ct On a 
 
I 
 
 | RLY LIFE 
 
 hf 
 
 “ 
 
 
 
THE MARCH OF THE YEARS. 
 
 To the beat of a million suns far-flung, 
 To the dance of systems wild, 
 
 To the dirge of the bells old Time has rung 
 Where the far dead worlds have filed. 
 
 To the throb of the summer flaming high, 
 To the tread of the muffled snows, 
 
 To the autumn dash on world and sky, 
 To the pulse of the opening rose. 
 
 To the banners of morning streaming far, 
 To the brimful cup of the noon, 
 
 To the sinking light of the evening star 
 And the midnight’s shadowy swoon. 
 
 To the baby’s cry—to the shout of the boy, 
 To the maiden’s ripening grace, 
 
 To the strong man’s grief or his conquering joy, 
 
 To the sigh of the upturned face. 
 
 It is march—march—march—no halt, no pause; 
 
 Eternity’s regulars one by one; 
 
 As they doff their plumes to the changeless laws, 
 
 These years go marching on. 
 
 It is “ Hail and Salute” as they bring our fate— 
 
 The wreath or the punitive rod; 
 
 For they swing—in their sovereign soldier state— 
 
 The guards of the Sovereign God. 
 
I 
 BPARLY CIEE 
 
 WAS born near Cooperstown, Pennsylvania, 
 on the eighteenth of August, 1839. At least 
 so I have been told. Like a good deal of other 
 knowledge this comes from testimony, but I have 
 long accepted the truth of it. I know little of the 
 place or its surroundings. I have often thought I 
 would go back and try to find some footprints of 
 the long-gone years. But I have been a busy man, 
 and the good time has not come. I am sorry. 
 When I was less than ten years old my parents 
 decided on the long and daring journey to Wiscon- 
 sin. In those days it was an undertaking, a veri- 
 table exploration. But my father wearied of the 
 hum-drum life in Lehigh County, and so we went. 
 As our stage, en route to Allentown, passed the lit- 
 tle red school house, the children gathered for a 
 hearty salute. They thought me lost to them for- 
 ever. AndI was. There was a lump in my throat 
 as the stage rolled on, and the school house faded 
 from my sight. For years my mind held the names 
 of some of my schoolmates, but now they are 
 all gone. | 
 In those days railroads were an innovation, but 
 
 1) 
 
18 CHARLES LEMUEL THOMPSON 
 
 at Allentown we found a little train that took us to 
 Elizabethport. From there a steamer carried us up 
 the bay to New York. I dimly recall our passage 
 up Broadway on the way to the Hudson River boat 
 which took us to Albany. The ride up the magnifi- 
 cent river was, of course, a wonderful experience. 
 There were no trains west of Albany, but the Erie 
 Canal served very well. 
 
 One incident remains in my memory. Boylike 
 I delighted, in passing under a bridge, to reach up 
 and swing for a moment, holding on to the bridge 
 timbers. On one occasion I hung on too long, the 
 boat passed from under me. It was cling or drop 
 into the water. I clung—until some passer-by 
 came to my rescue. 
 
 From Buffalo a steamer, the Sultana, (that name 
 has lingered all these years) carried us, in about 
 four days, to Milwaukee. It was a small town 
 then, but full of wonders to my untrained eyes. 
 For the summer my parents found a home on a 
 farm a few miles out of town. I recall still the 
 little house in the clearing in the forest, and the 
 farm life, all so new and so fascinating. I have 
 ever loved all farm animals. That was my intro- 
 duction to them. 
 
 In the autumn (1849, I think) my parents de- 
 cided to push up into the new state. I think Wis- 
 consin had just emerged from territorial life and 
 been admitted into the sisterhood of states. Our 
 objective was Fort Winnebago, on the Fox River, 
 
EARLY LIFE 19 
 
 at the portage made famous by the journeys across 
 it of Marquette, Joliet, probably La Salle and 
 others of the French explorers. A friend of my 
 father kept a hotel there, and that became our home 
 for that winter. 
 
 I have no recollection of what was the determin- 
 ing factor in that move, but can easily recognize 
 the Providence that was in it, and which appeared 
 on the trip to the Fort, though it was not recog- 
 nized till after years made it plain. A cloak, my 
 cherished possession, fell out of the wagon. The 
 loss was unnoticed by us until a young man on 
 horseback overtook us and returned the cloak. 
 That led to an acquaintance, for the young man 
 was a Presbyterian missionary on his way to the 
 portage. He took an interest in the lad whose 
 cloak he had found. He became my friend and 
 pastor and guide. To him, the Rev. W. W. 
 McNair, a missionary sent out by the Board of 
 Home Missions, I owe more than to any other man 
 on earth. In his study in Portage, the new town 
 just springing up on the banks of the Wisconsin 
 River, I learned the rudiments of Latin, and there 
 too, early came the thought of the ministry as my 
 destined calling. This had long been my mother’s 
 hope and prayer. 1 was her only child and this 
 was her cherished dream. I can never forget (this 
 was at a later time) one cold winter night, in 
 McNair’s study when he presented Christ’s claims 
 on my heart and life in such earnest, loving man- 
 
20 CHARLES LEMUEL THOMPSON 
 
 ner that I bowed with him in prayer, and yielded 
 my life to my Lord. I went home under the 
 tingling stars of that winter night, singing for 
 happiness that I had found my life path. And the 
 light on my mother’s face showed that she had 
 found the answer to her deepest prayer. 
 
 Before this time, however, the devoted mission- 
 ary had seen the need of better school facilities, and 
 with the help of some progressive people in the 
 community, founded “ The Classical Institute,” se- 
 curing for its principal the Rev. John Brittain from 
 the state of New York. He was a scholar and a 
 born teacher. In a very short time I found my- 
 self in the Institute, and there my great friend was 
 John Carpenter. Together we had begun our night 
 classes in the parsonage, together we entered the 
 Institute when Mr. Brittain arrived, together we 
 went to Carroll College, and then to Princeton, and 
 in a friendship of more than sixty years, we have 
 been together ever since. He is a few years older 
 than I, and now, in his home in Lincoln, Nebraska, 
 after sixty years of active service, still has the joy 
 of preaching as opportunity offers. 
 
 The years of the preparatory school passed 
 rapidly and happily. I have known, and had share 
 in many schools and academies since then. I have 
 not known of one in which there was more devo- 
 tion to high ideals both for learning and for char- 
 acter building than in that pioneer school. But Mr. 
 Brittain soon wore himself out and had to lay down 
 
EARLY LIFE 21 
 
 his work and, after a brief struggle, his life, but 
 not until he had made a glorious record and started 
 many a boy on a career made possible by his self- 
 sacrificing labors. 
 
 In 1855, at the too early age of sixteen, I en- 
 tered the Freshman class of Carroll College at 
 Waukesha, half advanced. It was a small college 
 but had at that time a rather remarkable faculty. 
 Dr. John A. Savage, the President, was a man of 
 culture, and of most gracious presence; these, 
 rather than executive ability, gave him marked suc- 
 cess. Among the professors should be named 
 Sidney A. Bean, in the chair of Mathematics, a 
 young man of splendid gifts and promise who gave 
 his life to his country in the Civil War. Prof. 
 Edward P. Evans, in the Chair of Modern Lan- 
 guages, gave at once distinct promise of the suc- 
 cessful career that came to him later. He was best 
 known as the editor of the works of Lessing. Ger- 
 many was his home in his later years. Prof. C. B. 
 Chapman, in the Chair of Natural Science, became 
 my close personal friend as an elder in the First 
 Church of Cincinnati during my pastorate there. 
 
 My class consisted of only four members. One 
 of them, S. V. White, died soon after his gradu- 
 ation. John Story, a brilliant mathematician, be- 
 came an officer in the United States army, and 
 passed away only a few years ago. John Car- 
 penter was painstaking and studious, and has been 
 the beloved pastor of churches in the middle west. 
 
22 CHARLES LEMUEL THOMPSON 
 
 During my pastorate in Cincinnati an incident oc- 
 curred which rather truthfully described the differ- 
 ence between us. A clergyman from Europe in 
 search of funds, for what cause I have forgotten, 
 came to me for introductions to friends in the 
 Northwest. When he returned he gave me an 
 account of his trip. Among other things he said: 
 
 “Your friend in Michigan told me about you 
 and a classmate of yours.” 
 
 * Carpenter,” I said. 
 
 ** Yes, that was his name.” 
 
 “And what did he say about us? ”’ 
 
 “Well, he said the difference between Carpenter 
 and Thompson was this—Carpenter never could 
 tell half as much as he knew. And Thompson 
 always could tell more than he knew.” 
 
 I confessed that at least half of that discrimina- 
 tion was correct. Carpenter always made me think 
 of a bottle that had more capacity than outlet. 
 
 Under the guidance of those fine men who at 
 that time made up the faculty of Carroll, the col- 
 lege years passed swiftly and profitably. In my 
 sophomore year I came under the influence of an 
 upper classman, who gave me my first introduction 
 to literature. Cushman K. Davis was a youth of 
 extraordinary brilliancy. He was not much of a 
 student, but an omnivorous reader. How far into 
 the nights we luxuriated in the pages of Byron, 
 Shelley, and the rest. Davis did not graduate at 
 Carroll. He became ambitious for a larger insti- 
 
EARLY LIFE 23 
 
 tution and drifted away to Michigan University. 
 In after years he became famous in the political 
 world, was a Governor of Minnesota, and later 
 United States senator from that state. In the 
 Senate he achieved distinction for a brilliant style 
 and forensic ability. As Chairman of the Foreign 
 Relations Committee, he prepared the indictment 
 of Spain on the breaking out of the Spanish- 
 American war, which was one of the most caustic 
 papers ever presented by a similar committee. 
 
 I had another close friend in an upper class, a 
 man of a very different personality. Andrew Wat- 
 son had the steady going qualities of his Scottish 
 race. Not brilliant, he was a devoted student, and 
 an earnest Christian. He was looking forward to 
 the ministry, as I was, and so a tie was formed 
 between us which was life-long. We were to- 
 gether in Princeton, but not much after graduation 
 there, because Watson went at once as a missionary 
 to Cairo. To that work he gave his entire minis- 
 terial life. He was one of the founders of the 
 United Presbyterian Mission in Egypt. His in- 
 fluence is being perpetuated in his son, Dr. Charles 
 R. Watson, who is founding the University of 
 Cairo, thus realizing one of his father’s life-long 
 dreams. Dr. Watson passed away a few years ago, 
 full of years and honors. 
 
 There is little more worth saying of the routine 
 of those college years. Part of one winter, to eke 
 out my finances I taught a country school. It was 
 
24 CHARLES LEMUEL THOMPSON 
 
 in a very primitive neighbourhood a few miles 
 away. And I was a very primitive teacher. How 
 they endured me is explained only by the fact that, 
 little as I knew, it was a little more than they knew. 
 
 College days were enlivened, of course, by those 
 inane (I use that word on a pretty long retrospect) 
 pranks to which college boys are given. But they 
 are scarce worth even an allusion. I suppose it is a 
 sign that one is growing old, when one is no longer 
 charmed by recalling nights when cocks were sacri- 
 ficed to E'sculapius, and fastened on the very top of 
 the cupola, or when, after a hard chase, a farmer’s 
 steers were captured and forced into the recitation 
 rooms to greet the professors in their bovine way 
 in the morning. It is one of the penalties of the 
 years that such nocturnal employments seem to 
 lose their charm as we go on. 
 
 I recall one experience that was less amusing. It 
 illustrates our poverty. My chum, John Carpenter, 
 and I were bound for our home in Portage. When 
 we had bought our railway tickets to Madison, we 
 had just one five-dollar bill left. It was my bill. 
 We were not worried, for that bill would pay for 
 our hotel at Madison, and for the forty-mile coach 
 ride the next day I had a pass for myself, and felt 
 quite sure that I had influence enough with the 
 coach to allow my chum to ride with me on the 
 promise of payment when we reached home. At 
 Madison we decided to treat ourselves to some re- 
 freshments. I presented my lone bill. It was 
 
EARLY LIFE 25 
 
 counterfeit! We held a hurried council of war, 
 concluded to go without supper, but what about 
 lodging? We wandered down to the station, found 
 an empty freight car, and decided to occupy it. 
 Far into the night we became conscious that our 
 refuge was moving. A sudden exit, a walk back 
 to town, a couple of chairs in a hotel. So we put 
 in the rest of the night. Without breakfast we 
 started on the long coach ride. Evening brought 
 us home with appetites not often achieved, even by 
 school boys. 
 
 Graduation brought a red-letter day. It was not 
 without sadness. It never is, for boy friendships 
 are deep and real, and graduation meant a surren- 
 der of some of the ties that had bound us. But it 
 was also a day of distinction, one of the few that 
 are underscored in a life of long memory. I was 
 Salutatorian. I suppose that was intended to say 
 that I was the second best scholar in the class or 
 the second best boy, I am not sure which. I spoke 
 on the “Genius of Poetry.” The manuscript at 
 least was beautiful. It was bound with a red rib- 
 bon, its cover illuminated by the skillful fingers of 
 one of the Classical Institute girls. I am ashamed 
 to say I have forgotten her name. The flood of 
 years has swept the manuscript away. I wish lI 
 had it to try to convince myself that it was not as 
 idiotic as I fear it must have been. 
 
‘ 
 
 aN 
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 i's 
 
 a a Hanis 
 
 it wa ime ry 
 
 mvetiy by nh ope 
 
 th eee, Nh 
 Seay 
 
 Med es 
 Wy 
 
 f a i" 
 
 a Kea Gitl 
 
 he 
 
 Pie 
 he \ 
 Ah yan iW 
 
 1 ; n| A 
 
 a ery fd 
 f aye 1 ) i! 
 
 
 
ty WA | 
 MLW PIP os et 
 chicos oped 
 
 Me 
 ‘\ Wy 
 
 II 
 
 _ PRINCETON 
 
 ft E 
 if \ : y 
 
 
 
Pos WO Bed eS 
 
 Psyche and Love went out one day, 
 For a stroll to the end of the world; 
 To the end of the land and the ocean gray, 
 Where the banners of Time are furled. 
 
 And Psyche spake, “It is far and far— 
 Will you walk with me to the end?” 
 And Love replied: “ Through flood and fire, 
 
 Steadfast I thee attend.” 
 
 So on and on. But there was no flood, 
 No fiery baptism came; 
 
 Fair flowers rose from the velvet sod, 
 Their color the only flame. 
 
 Perfumes of Kashmir filled the vale, 
 The poppies of Ind outshone; 
 
 Till the drowsy god on the flowers fell, 
 And Psyche went on—alone. 
 
I] 
 PRINCETON 
 
 Y pastor was a graduate of Princeton. Of 
 course that was the seminary for me to 
 attend. Toa country boy of barely nine- 
 
 teen, going East and to the historic institution was 
 an event of prime importance. No wonder all the 
 incidents of the journey are deeply engraved in my 
 memory. But they are not worth a record. 
 
 The venerable names which at that time dis- 
 tinguished Princeton were not much known to the 
 two Western boys, John Carpenter and I, who, in 
 the autumn of 1858, sought those classic shades. 
 Only a short time, however, was needed to impress 
 us with the distinction of being in such company. 
 There was Charles Hodge, recognized by all 
 Princetonians as the greatest theologian of the 
 century. There was Joseph Addison Alexander, 
 the man whose voluble learning in the class room 
 and whose torrential eloquence in the pulpit almost 
 paralyzed us. There was William Henry Green, 
 whose Hebrew learning silenced all our linguistic 
 achievement, pretty much silenced us altogether, 
 when summoned to our feet to explain daghesh- 
 forte, or some other oriental mystery. And there 
 
 rae. 
 
30 CHARLES LEMUEL THOMPSON 
 
 was that marvel of scriptural memory and of suave 
 urbanity, Dr. Alexander T. McGill, whose cordial 
 invitations to his house (which we dared not ac- 
 cept) gave a touch of humanness to our frigid 
 surroundings. 
 
 On the long review I am grateful for two factors 
 of the seminary life. First the sense of reverent 
 scholarship which pervaded the atmosphere. It 
 was earnest and profound, and gave to the student 
 a sense of the worth-whileness of theological dis- 
 cipline. And secondly, I am grateful for the 
 anchorage given me there in a very conservative 
 theology. It is true I have long since grown away 
 from some of it. It is solemnly true that if I had 
 to preach in all its logical consequences the the- 
 ology I was taught, | would not dare to preach at 
 all. Nevertheless, Dr. Hodge gave me a grasp on 
 fundamentals which perhaps has kept me from a 
 far-away drift of thought, and which has sternly 
 held me to those eternal verities from which no 
 science or philosophy of life could ever detach me. 
 
 My Princeton years were formative years, and I 
 look back on them with rejoicing that my path led 
 me there, and that its traditions remain with me. I 
 did not dream then as I struggled with Hebrew and 
 theology that I would return one day to receive 
 from the hands of the University the gorgeous 
 hood of Doctor of Divinity. 
 
 Speaking of that hood recalls to my mind an 
 episode of later years. It was on some important 
 
PRINCETON 31 
 
 occasion at New York University, when the great 
 academic procession, in its many-colored hoods and 
 robes was winding its way across the campus. As 
 I looked at the varied hues, from the brilliant scar- 
 let robe worn by Andrew Carnegie, as Rector of 
 St. Andrew’s, through all the colors of the rainbow 
 to the plain black of the undergraduate, I said to 
 my companion in the march, “ Did you ever see 
 anything like this? ”’ 
 
 1 never’ did,” he replied," and 1 have had 
 delirium tremens twice! ”’ 
 
 But this is an interpolation. 
 
 The solemnity of a theological course was some- 
 times varied by excursions into the country, or into 
 forbidden speculations on recondite things. One 
 of the latter was in the holding of séances with 
 spirits. Spiritualism was quite the vogue, so it 
 was not strange that one evening a half dozen of us 
 gathered about a rapping table. The table behaved 
 well for awhile, but under cross examination the 
 spirits in it got active, arid set the table into queer 
 performances that we could not understand. It 
 surely did perform stunts. We all declared that we 
 were not consciously moving the giddy thing, 
 which stood now on four legs, then on two, and 
 tried to stand on three. Dr. Joseph Addison Alex- 
 ander had recently died. He could not be far away, 
 so we called his spirit. He responded emphatically, 
 as was his wont. He said he had a message for 
 Taggart. Tag grew pale. Not being a very good 
 
32 CHARLES LEMUEL THOMPSON 
 
 student he always was afraid of Dr. Alexander. 
 He waited breathlessly. By that time we were all 
 hypnotized, and ready to believe anything. This 
 was the message: 
 
 “ Study.” 
 
 “ Study what?” we inquired. 
 
 Slowly and emphatically the table pounded out 
 the answer: “ Study your Bible.”’ 
 
 That was crushing, for Tag was not a proficient 
 Bible student. ‘Tag’s face grew ashen. John 
 Frame, with tears in his eyes and stuttering utter- 
 ance, (John always stuttered when he was excited) 
 broke forth: 
 
 “T say, T-Tag, d-d-don’t you s-s-study your 
 B-B-Bible? ” 
 
 That was too much, and we gave way to unhal- 
 lowed mirth. It seemed to offend the spirit of 
 Joseph Addison Alexander, for he had nothing 
 more to say. 
 
 It leaked out that there had been a spiritual- 
 istic séance in one of the rooms. But we all lay 
 low, and the excitement died out. But no more 
 were held. 
 
 It was during my second term at Princeton that 
 the stringency of my personal times demanded that 
 I should once more inflict my pedagogic immatur- 
 ity on an unoffending country school. Carpenter, 
 also on account of impecuniosity, had undertaken 
 the principalship of an academy at Perrineville, 
 New Jersey. That was proper enough, for John 
 
PRINCETON 33 
 
 was nearly four years my senior, even if he didn’t 
 knew much more than I knew. But when, in the 
 middle of the term, he was willing to surrender to 
 me the honors and emoluments of the academy for 
 the remainder of the session, I was confronted with 
 the dilemma of undertaking to be principal in a 
 school of teachers and pupils as old or older than I. 
 But necessity knows neither law nor prudence; I 
 undertook the job. It was an experience both 
 stimulating and dramatic. My home was at the 
 manse, presided over by Dr. Charles Worrell, a 
 man of heroic mould of the olden type, a stern man 
 who ordered his house, and ordered it to get up to 
 a before-daylight breakfast. It was good for me. 
 It showed Princeton theology in its practical every 
 day working. And it gave me inside knowledge of 
 my undertaking, its difficulties and possibilities. 
 That my work did not more thoroughly alarm 
 me I attribute to my dense pedagogic ignorance. I 
 think my most serious alarm came when I felt con- 
 strained to discipline a youth about as old and as 
 large as I. Pedagogy had not at that time out- 
 grown its birch-rod period—at least it had not in 
 my thought. The youth had defied my authority. 
 I feared I should lose command of the situation. 
 Being too crude to realize that there were other 
 methods I fell back on the primitive way. When I 
 summoned the stalwart country boy to receive pun- 
 ishment, there were two frightened boys on the 
 floor. If he was as badly scared as I was, I pity 
 
34 CHARLES LEMUEL THOMPSON 
 
 him. However we tried conclusions in the bar- 
 baric fashion, and my authority remained. I had 
 no further trouble and was sincerely sorry when 
 the end of the term took me away from the friend- 
 ships formed there and back to the austere atmos- 
 phere of Princeton? 
 
 In the vacation between my first and second 
 years, I became a missionary of the American 
 Sunday School Union, to go out west and establish 
 Sunday Schools. ‘This for a double reason. That 
 everlasting vacuity in my purse remained at its full 
 (if such an absurd phrase be allowable) and then it 
 was, as it yet is, the standing criticism of Princeton 
 that it afforded no chance to practice what had been 
 taught. Here was a chance to practice on any com- 
 munity I could find. 
 
 My field was Kane County, Illinois. It was a 
 beautiful region. Prosperous farmers on every 
 hand, their families ought to have Sunday Schools. 
 I was there to impress this fact and gather them at 
 the school houses to actualize their needs. To be 
 sure, in many places there had been Sunday 
 Schools. They had not been “ established,” only 
 started by some youth as callow as I and as anxious 
 to make a record, and the next year had promptly 
 died. Very likely mine would experience the same 
 fate. But what will the Seminaries do if they can- 
 not give the boys a chance to practice. So I prac- 
 ticed and enjoyed-it, and added quite a list to the 
 sunday Schools on the way to the next year’s Sun- 
 
PRINCETON 35 
 
 day School cemeteries. No doubt they did good to 
 the communities, certainly to the student who 
 enjoyed the summer clinic. 
 
 At the end of my second year I was assailed by 
 a double temptation to cut my seminary course 
 short. The first was the fact that I had become 
 engaged to Mary Boyd, the eldest daughter of the 
 Rev. Robert Boyd, a well known clergyman and 
 the pastor of the Edina Place Baptist Church, of 
 Chicago. The matrimonial fever that has so often 
 interfered with a curriculum was laying hold on 
 me. But a matrimonial fever with nothing to feed 
 it would not easily conquer even an impulsive 
 youth. However, the first temptation got a power- 
 ful reinforcement in a second. During the summer 
 I was supplying my home church in Portage City. 
 It was a good-sized, prosperous church. It offered 
 me a call; the call was flattering; I could give no 
 better reason for declining it than the fact that in 
 that congregation I would always be “ Charlie.” 
 As a matter of fact I was afraid, and probably not 
 without reason. Such an experiment is not often 
 a success. But now another temptation occurred 
 which was not so easily put aside. I was called to 
 the little Church at Juneau, Wisconsin. Thus 
 doubly assailed I did the possibly unwise thing, 
 and on the 18th of September, 1860, was married 
 to Miss Boyd, in Chicago, and at once began my 
 ministerial work in the pleasant country village. 
 But I could not find it in my conscience wholly to 
 
36 CHARLES LEMUEL THOMPSON 
 
 give up my seminary course. So we compromised, 
 my conscience and I, and I arranged with the Theo- 
 logical Seminary of the North West, in Chicago, to 
 allow me to pursue the course privately and to at- 
 tend the classes the latter part of the term. So, 
 while the regular pastor of the Juneau church, I 
 became a member of the class of 1861 and gradu- 
 ated with it in May of that year. That this plan 
 entailed some disadvantages goes without saying. 
 I do not recommend it to other students. 
 
 That was a strenuous winter. I preached in the 
 morning at Juneau, in the afternoon at Rolling 
 Prairie, four miles away, and part of the time in 
 . the evening at Horicon, six miles away. Uncle 
 James had given me a colt; I rode him to my ap- 
 pointments, though he was rather frisky. When it 
 got so cold that I was in danger of freezing in the 
 saddle, I would dismount, and “‘ Lion” and I would 
 race along side by side. ‘wo experiences with that 
 colt are worth mentioning. One was in the matter 
 of diet. We had had a donation party. The com- 
 munity had a plethora of lard and buckwheat. So 
 they unloaded on us. ‘There wasn’t room in the 
 house for all the buckwheat, so I stored it in the 
 barn. As we couldn’t eat buckwheat cakes all 
 the time, and as oats were high, the happy thought 
 came to me to feed Lion on our store. He seemed 
 to thrive on this diet. But after a while he began 
 to turn gray; that was premature for a four-year- 
 old. I puzzled in vain, then consulted a veterinary. 
 
PRINCETON 37 
 
 He knit his brows; had never seen a gray powder 
 come out on a horse before. 
 
 “What have you been feeding him?” 
 
 “ Buckwheat.” 
 
 The mystery was solved, the colt was coated with 
 unbaked buckwheat cakes. 
 
 My other experience was more serious. My 
 organist offered me a his sulky, said it was a good 
 thing in which to break a colt. Lion had never 
 been in harness, I had never been in a sulky, but 
 why not? So I hitched, mounted and gave the 
 word. Lion was off like a shot; I began to think I 
 had a trained horse, he went so beautifully. Sud- 
 denly one wheel struck a little stump. But that was 
 enough; the high-wheeled thing went over. I was, 
 of course, thrown out, and Lion, of course, wished 
 to go elsewhere. He kicked till not much was left 
 of the sulky. After I had persuaded him to quiet 
 down, I led him home through the village, both of 
 us crestfallen and sad. After that Lion was a bit 
 uncertain. 
 
 My brief service in that village was probably the 
 average of the service of young pastors at that 
 time. But now reviewing it in the light of later 
 experience I can painfully see my failures, not so 
 much of the positive as of the negative kind. Mine 
 was the only church in the place, there was every 
 reason why I should feel charged with special re- 
 sponsibility for the whole community. It did not 
 press upon me. I was the pastor of a definite little 
 
38 CHARLES LEMUEL THOMPSON 
 
 company. ‘Io them I ministered. That is, I 
 preached my sermons on Sunday (many of them 
 of the vealy sort), conducted a prayer meeting, 
 when the weather was favorable, and visited the 
 people in their homes with occasional regularity. 
 That was all. It was all I knew. If anyone had 
 asked me to do more it would have surprised me. 
 But in the light of present years I am wondering 
 why some sense of obligation to the community did 
 not dawn upon me. I would have had a great 
 chance. Had I known enough I would have made 
 a survey of the pleasant community, would have 
 found out all the social as well as the religious con- 
 ditions, and would have organized the village for 
 self-help along a variety of lines. But it was fifty 
 years too early. I missed my chance. I wish I had 
 it now; I think I could give that county an 
 object lesson. 
 
 The only noteworthy occurrence of that year was 
 a supposititious Indian raid. But that was dra- 
 matic. It was the time of the Sioux massacre in 
 Minnesota. The tidings inflamed our bucolic 
 imaginations. ‘The report spread that there were 
 Indians in a neighboring town only six miles away, 
 who were rising against the white people. Then as 
 the news flew from mouth to mouth it became more 
 exciting. The Indians were not only burning 
 Horicon, they were marching on Juneau. We did 
 not stop to consider that there were not enough 
 Indians in the whole county to make a march. We 
 
PRINCETON 39 
 
 accepted the wild story. Every repetition of it 
 further inflamed the imagination. The few con- 
 servatives who doubted were sent to the rear. 
 Panic held the middle of the road. Probably the 
 most picturesque figure in the village was the young 
 parson, mounted on his half-trained colt, charging 
 up and down the street getting fuel for the flame, 
 and flinging out the brands, proposing to the 
 women and children to seek refuge in the court 
 house, and the men to sell their lives at the highest 
 market price. This electric atmosphere held the 
 village for an hour or two. The tidings had spread 
 among the farmers, and they drove into town from 
 every direction, armed with old shot guns, pitch- 
 forks and scythes. Grotesque and funny enough 
 in review, it was dramatic and terrible at the time. 
 But presently authentic tidings came from some 
 conservative scout who had been brave enough to 
 ride out on the road and learn the truth—that 
 Horicon was not burned, that Indians were not 
 marching on Juneau, but—that one drunken Indian 
 had attacked the pony of a German neighbor for 
 trespassing on his forty acres! Then “silence, 
 like a poultice, came to heal the ’’ discordant village 
 noises. ‘The excited groups scattered. The parson 
 stabled his colt.’ Gradually the village settled to its 
 normal quiet, broken only by an occasional remi- 
 niscent laughter as we realized the colossal magni- 
 tude of the village imagination. 
 
 In 1862 I was called to Janesville, a thriving 
 
40 CHARLES LEMUEL THOMPSON 
 
 little city of ten thousand people, in southern Wis- 
 consin. It seemed like a long step from the village 
 to the town. I went with fear and trembling. 
 They had had brilliant preachers. One of them 
 had published a volume of sermons! So with great 
 hesitation I accepted and entered on a delightful 
 five years in that beautiful town. I have had a 
 number of sessions, never one of finer metal than 
 that Janesville session. My congregation was com- 
 posed of unusually intelligent and cultured people. 
 Altogether my job was one of special difficulty for 
 an inexperienced and immature preacher. I have 
 often wondered how they endured me. They were 
 probably making generous allowance for my youth. 
 I felt the necessity of doing the best that was in 
 me, and as it was before the time when ministers 
 were much called upon in civic and social affairs, I 
 had nearly unbroken time for my study. I looked 
 back in later years with much envy on those undis- 
 turbed days. They laid the foundation for much 
 of the work of following years. Young preachers 
 make a great, often fatal, mistake in fleeing from 
 quiet days in rural life to the exactions of more 
 prominent positions. 
 
 This was the time of the Civil War. I had a 
 minute share in it. There was a loud call for 
 sanitary measures. Mrs. Colt, a woman of great 
 executive power and personal charm, was Chair- 
 man of the Sanitary Commission of the state. She 
 and I arranged a speaking campaign in many Wis- 
 
PRINCETON AY 
 
 consin towns to stir up patriotic enthusiasm, and 
 secure contributions for the Sanitary Commission. 
 The campaign was warmly received and did some 
 good toward the end in view. It also did me good. 
 It gave me platform experience, of which I had had 
 little, and somewhat prepared me for the extensive 
 platform work of later years. 
 
 It was during my life in Janesville that I 
 dropped into poetry, and began by publishing a 
 number of poems in the Janesville Gazette, under 
 the nom de plume of “'T. Templeton Tibbs.” At 
 the close of the war, a prize of fifty dollars was 
 offered for the best poem on the war. Mine took 
 the prize and was read at the dedication of the Sol- 
 diers Home in Milwaukee, but I seem to have 
 lost it. 
 
 In addition to preaching in my own pulpit, I was 
 in a sense a Chaplain of the Institute for the Blind, 
 where I preached once a month. The interest to 
 me in this service was the quick response in the ani- 
 mated faces of my audience. Their ears did double 
 duty, and I have never had better pulpit reaction 
 than from that alert little congregation. 
 
 An ever memorable event occurred in 1865. 
 Early one morning one of my parishioners came to 
 ask me to attend the funeral of his child. He 
 was deeply agitated. I expressed my sympathy. 
 “Yes,” he replied, “ but there is worse news, Lin- 
 coln was assassinated last night.” 
 
 The grip of that great man on the hearts of 
 
42 CHARLES LEMUEL THOMPSON 
 
 people everywhere was touchingly illustrated in the 
 grief of my caller. The loss of his child was over- 
 whelmed by the awful national calamity. A few 
 days after that, I saw Lincoln for the first time. 
 He was in his coffin in the Court House in Chicago, 
 where a vast multitude bowed in the common sor- 
 row of the nation. 
 
 In a variety of ways my Janesville pastorate was 
 good training. I look back on it with unalloyed 
 satisfaction. ‘The sadness of it comes when, on re- 
 visiting the scene of labors fifty years ago, I am 
 confronted with the desolations the years have 
 wrought. Only a few remain to help me recall the 
 blessed associations. 
 
{il 
 CINCINNATI 
 
PAGANINI 
 
 He shambled awkward on the stage, the while 
 Across the waiting audience swept a smile. 
 
 With clumsy touch, when first he drew the bow, 
 He snapped a string. The audience tittered low. 
 
 Another stroke! Off flies another string! 
 With laughter now the circling galleries ring. 
 
 Once more! The third string breaks tts quivering strands, 
 And hisses greet the player as he stands. 
 
 He stands —the while his genius, unbereft, 
 Is calm; one string and Paganini left! 
 
 He plays. The one string’s daring notes uprise 
 Against the storm, as if they sought the skies. 
 
 A silence falls—then awe; the people bow, 
 And they who erst had hissed are weeping now. 
 
 And when the last note trembling died away, 
 Some shouted “ Bravo!” some had learned to pray. 
 
Til 
 
 CINCINNATI 
 
 N the spring of 1867, I was surprised by an 
 invitation to preach in the Old First of Cin- 
 cinnati. I knew little of Cincinnati, next to 
 
 nothing of the church. Why should they go to 
 Wisconsin to ask an unknown country preacher 
 to occupy their historic pulpit, even for one Sun- 
 day. The manner of it leaked out later. Dr. 
 Chapman had tried to beat a little chemistry into 
 my head during his professorship at Carroll Col- 
 lege. I was not aware that he knew me as a 
 preacher. He knew I was a failure in chemistry. 
 Only by the remotest flight of fancy could he from 
 that failure even guess that possibly I could preach. 
 At any rate, he took the risk. He was at that time 
 a lecturer in the Miami Medical College, in Cincin- 
 nati, and an attendant at the First Church. So my 
 invitation came about. It was a scared young 
 preacher who stood, one bright Sunday morning, 
 in the pulpit of that large auditorium and con- 
 fronted what was left of the historic congregation. 
 The War had divided the church. Dr. Samuel Wil- 
 son, their pastor, a man of great strength, was on 
 the Southern side. He resigned and went to Ken- 
 
 45 
 
46 CHARLES LEMUEL THOMPSON 
 
 tucky. Many of the congregation disappeared. 
 But there was a remnant according to grace. The 
 faithful few stood solidly by each other and by the 
 church. ‘They called me and I accepted. I look 
 back on my temerity with astonishment. Only the 
 rashness of youth could explain it. Had I been 
 wiser and more calculating, I would have hesitated 
 and declined, and so would have missed one of my 
 greatest chances. “ There’s a divinity that shapes 
 our ends.” 
 
 It was hard for me to leave my Wisconsin home, 
 but I went under the compulsion of the feeling that 
 as I had had no hand in “ the call,” the great Mas- 
 ter must have meant it. I can scarcely realize that 
 it is fifty years ago when, little more than a boy, I 
 undertook what seemed like a forlorn hope. But 
 the handful of people rallied around me and the 
 work grew beyond my hopes. However, in time it 
 dawned upon me that the only chance of real suc- 
 cess in such a field, and at such a time, was in a 
 complete face-about. The church had been con- 
 servative to a degree. The people had been satis- 
 fied with themselves, and made of the church little 
 more than a close corporation. Necessarily it was 
 a diminishing corporation. The pressure of busi- 
 ness was driving people to the beautiful hills above 
 the city. There were still people enough, but of a 
 migratory character, hotels and boarding houses 
 abounded and were full. In this situation, becom- 
 ing constantly more acute, two alternatives, only 
 
CINCINNATI AT 
 
 two, were open to the church. One was to con- 
 tinue the shut-in policy, sit in comfortable pews, 
 be content with comfortable preaching, and see the 
 church gradually but surely disappear. The other 
 was to make a radically new departure, to accept a 
 new vision of church responsibility, to acknowl- 
 edge that the church is not an end to itself, not a 
 field of flowers and fruit, but a force to transform 
 a desert. A sense of primary responsibility to the 
 community around its doors must seize upon the 
 people, and only such enjoyment of religious 
 services be accepted as accords with that sense of 
 responsibility. 
 
 The young preacher had not been a year in his 
 pulpit before he saw what alternative he must ac- 
 cept. If his people would go with him, well and 
 good. If not, he would have a decision to make. 
 But this face-about could not be suddenly accom- 
 plished. Impatience must not wreck so important 
 an enterprise. An educational campaign must be 
 carried on. The preaching was often and steadily 
 toward the missionary life of the church. Thus 
 gradually a sense of stewardship was developed. 
 The people began to feel uneasy in their pews. 
 There were multitudes about them for whom they 
 were not doing anything. Gradually, at first tim- 
 idly, I broached ideas of a larger service to my 
 more intimate friends. In some quarters I met 
 doubts and questionings. But in others, to my 
 great joy, I found response. So after many 
 
48 CHARLES LEMUEL THOMPSON 
 
 months of seed sowing I concluded to bring the 
 matter to an issue. 
 
 I called the officers together and outlined a care- 
 fully prepared plan of operations. It was radical 
 enough. In substance I proposed first that all the 
 families should surrender their pews. As some of 
 the pews were owned this seemed a rather stiff 
 proposition. But I insisted if they wanted the 
 church to grow it must grow from the elements 
 around it. High pew rents would make this wholly 
 impossible, any pew rents would make it difficult. 
 But the officers said, “‘ We would have no assured 
 income. Where would your salary come from?” 
 
 This gave me a chance for my next proposition, 
 and I replied, “ I will give up any stipulated salary. 
 If you could pay pew rent, you can make an equal 
 voluntary offering. I will depend on what you put 
 on the plates from Sabbath to Sabbath. If you do 
 not put enough on those plates to enable the 
 preacher to live, he will understand the suggestion, 
 and look elsewhere.”’ 
 
 It should be said the church had some income 
 from the rental of contiguous stores, enough to 
 pay all expenses outside of salary, so we were in a 
 favorable condition to try out the experiment I 
 proposed. , 
 
 The third part of my plan was a more thorough 
 organization for service, made possible by the new 
 program. 
 
 With some hesitation, but with hearty good will, 
 
CINCINNATI 49 
 
 the whole program was accepted. The pew doors 
 were thrown open widely. Through the city was 
 circulated the fact that the conservative ‘“ Old 
 First ”’ had become a free church, and was inviting 
 everybody to come, without money and without 
 price. The effect was instantaneous. The congre- 
 gation at once increased, but far more than that, a 
 feeling was developed that the church members 
 were in a campaign,—no longer merely recipients, 
 but ministering servants to a community whose 
 needs appealed on every hand. As enthusiasm per- 
 vaded the ranks, it was communicated to all the 
 newcomers, and that year the preacher received 
 more salary than ever before. 
 
 Farly in my Cincinnati ministry I was seized 
 with literary ambitions, and with three close 
 friends, destined to be friends of a lifetime, entered 
 on the doubtful experiment of launching a literary 
 magazine. When I name my comrades in the en- 
 terprise it will be seen that it should have had good 
 support. They were the Rev. Oscar A. Hills, 
 D.D., pastor of the Central Church, the Rey. A. A. 
 E. Taylor, D.D., of the Mt. Auburn Church, and 
 Dr. William C. Gray, at that time a printer in Elm 
 Street. Our scheme was ambitious,—no less than 
 to give the West the best magazine it had ever had. 
 We almost said as much in the prospectus. We 
 named it ‘Our Monthly.” Not that the title 
 wholly pleased us, but we could think of nothing 
 better. Our parishioners took the stock, because 
 
50 CHARLES LEMUEL THOMPSON 
 
 we asked them to. I was the general editor, Dr. 
 Taylor had “ The Miscellany,” and Dr. Hills, the 
 profound theologian of the group, by an amusing 
 assignment, had the “Children’s Department.” 
 Dr. Gray was the publisher, and soon became one 
 of the best contributors. His account of an inci- 
 dent at the beginning of our enterprise may be 
 worth recording. 
 
 ‘““When the first form of type (sixteen pages) 
 of the first issue was sent to the press, a rough 
 sheet was pulled and sent up to the office to see that 
 the pages were properly imposed. Just then Dr. 
 Taylor came in, and when he saw it, exclaimed, 
 ‘What is that?’ I told him that it was the first 
 sheet of ‘Our Monthly.’ He fairly blazed with 
 indignation. ‘You don’t dare to say that that’s 
 the way you are going to print it! That’s not 
 printing, that’s daubing! ‘That’s atrocious! We 
 won't stand it!’ I told him that the printing 
 wasn’t very good, but that it was a good deal better 
 than the literature. He stamped off to the back of 
 the building to collect his thoughts. The pressman 
 had meantime been diligently at work and soon sent 
 up a perfect sheet. Dr. Thompson came in just 
 then, and seeing it said: ‘ Why that’s beautiful— 
 the type shines like diamonds’; and, seeing Taylor, 
 started toward him. The two met halfway. Tay- 
 lor spoke in suppressed tones of wrath. 
 
 “* Why, I don’t think so,’ replied Thompson 
 cheerily, ‘I think the printing is splendid.’ 
 
CINCINNATI 51 
 
 “*You think it is splendid —think it is splen- 
 did!’ said Taylor, looking at him in amazement. 
 ‘Thompson, you have not a bit more sense than 
 Gray has.’ ” 
 
 Financially our venture was not a success. In- 
 deed, we did not expect it to be. Our motive was 
 altruistic. The west needed good literature. We 
 would furnish it. The names of a few of our 
 writers will show that at least we were on the right 
 road. Thus William Cullen Bryant, John Hall, E. 
 D. Morris, EF. D. Mansfield, William Henry Green, 
 Howard Crosby and David Swing are only a few 
 stars out of a shining galaxy. Nevertheless, it was 
 not a money maker. After a year and a half of 
 delightful experience we sold out to the Martien 
 Publishing Company, of Philadelphia, in whose un- 
 fortunate hands “ Our Maggie”’ soon had a grace- 
 ful and peaceful exit. As we looked back we 
 consoled ourselves with the reflection that every 
 professional man should have some side interest. 
 We had ours. That it was good for our congre- 
 gations [am not so certain. It monopolized a good 
 deal of our time. The best asset, as I regard it on 
 this long retrospect, was the enduring friendships 
 there formed. “ Our Quadrilateral,’ as we called 
 it, was bound in the closest bonds. In after years, 
 though widely separated, we met occasionally 
 around a dinner table, and gave an evening to joy- 
 ful reminiscences. Dr. Gray’s swan song on the 
 last of these occasions comes so near to being good 
 
52 CHARLES LEMUEL THOMPSON 
 
 poetry that I fancy some of his many friends may 
 enjoy the reading. 
 
 And thus, Oh! friends, we celebrate 
 With quip and jest 
 
 The wreck of plans and hopes that once 
 We deemed the best. 
 
 And as the gleaming palaces 
 We toiled to rear 
 
 With barbicans and cornices 
 Dissolve in air, 
 
 And corridor and bartizan 
 And springing rafter, 
 
 We blow away their falling dust 
 On gusts of laughter. 
 
 The residue is gems and gold 
 Untouched by time, 
 
 Mined in the bright eternal hills 
 By hands divine. 
 
 Friendship and troth and faithful love, 
 In crowns of bands— 
 
 These shall we wear here and above 
 In God-lit lands. 
 
 My work in Cincinnati was difficult but encour- 
 aging. The free church experiment was a marked 
 success. It also gave me experience in a kind of 
 preaching unknown to me before. I was after 
 people; it meant a struggle. My sermons became 
 less rhetorical (a temptation to which I had easily 
 yielded) and were more practical and direct. In 
 
CINCINNATI 53 
 
 illustration of directness, at a time of some reli- 
 gious interest, I was preaching one evening to a 
 very large congregation from the text, “Thou art 
 the man.” Driving my points home as directly as 
 I could, I exclaimed, throwing my hand out to the 
 congregation, “Yes, thou art the man.” The 
 pause that followed was broken by a cry from a 
 man near the rear of the congregation and a sob- 
 bing exclamation, “ Yes, I am the man.” He came 
 out into the center aisle and up toward the pulpit, 
 repeating, “I am the man.’ One of my elders 
 gently drew him down beside him. He continued 
 to sob for some time. It was moments before I 
 could resume my sermon. After the service he 
 remained for conference and prayer, his contrition 
 was deep and apparently genuine. With a solemn 
 promise to lead a new life, he left us, for he was in 
 the city only for that night. 
 
 Alas, that threads of influence cannot be fol- 
 lowed! The incident found its way into the news- 
 papers, and I was called on for special services, 
 among others to speak to the police force of the 
 city in one of the theatres. It was a most unusual 
 congregation, I have not seen one like it since. I 
 spoke on the detective power of sin, from the text, 
 “ Be sure your sin will find you out.” I never had 
 better attention than from those men who wore the 
 detective star on their breasts. Again we cannot 
 follow the seed sowing to the harvest. 
 
 So the years passed happily, but they were draw- 
 
54 CHARLES LEMUEL THOMPSON 
 
 ing on the young pastor’s reserves. In addition to 
 my parish work, and my literary work there were 
 many calls for outside lectures and addresses. I 
 was working so close to the margin of my strength 
 that prolonged vacations became necessary. Grad- 
 ually the need of change was forced upon me. I 
 had a number of offers that would give me a 
 change, only one of which made any strong appeal. 
 That was a call to the principal church of Louis- 
 ville. Its terms were very generous and its tones 
 were enthusiastic. On my visit to the church, I 
 was received with genuine southern welcome. For 
 some relief from the exactions of my free church 
 enterprise I was strongly inclined to accept. But as 
 a northern man, I was not sure that I would be at 
 home in the new environment. I therefore regret- 
 fully declined the call, and buckled on the armor 
 for my exacting task. 
 
 Soon after that I came near to a nervous col- 
 lapse. My work increased but my strength did not. 
 Thus there are many entries in my journal like 
 this: “ Yesterday I preached for three-quarters of 
 an hour with some freedom and without manu- 
 script from the text, ‘ Against thee, thee only have 
 I sinned.’ Then went up to Orchard Street anni- 
 versary exercise, where I made an address. Re- 
 turning, I went to the Fifth Church Sunday school 
 and gave another address. Was much worn out, 
 but went home, took an hour’s rest and a cup of 
 tea. Then went to my evening service and 
 
CINCINNATI 55 
 
 preached for nearly an hour to the largest congre- 
 gation I ever had.’’ Had I had better “ terminal 
 facilities ’’ perhaps I and the people had been less 
 fatigued. 
 
 About this time my friend Dr. Gray had been 
 called to Chicago to dig “ The Interior ” out of the 
 ruins of the great fire. He was anxious that I 
 should follow him. The Fifth Church of that city 
 was vacant. He suggested my name. A com- 
 mittee came to Cincinnati and I was called. The 
 northwest was more like home, I felt the pull of it, 
 and after some hesitation, I accepted, though I 
 loved my work in Cincinnati, and there I had ven- 
 tured on a form of church work which was destined 
 to have an important influence on after years. 
 

 
IV 
 CHICAGO 
 
THE KING OF GLORY. 
 
 Lift up, lift up your heads ye gates, 
 Ye everlasting doors, 
 
 The King of Glory cometh in 
 Across the star-strewn floors. 
 
 Lift up your heads ye lowly gates 
 Of toil and pain and sin, 
 
 Where heavy ages bound you fast, 
 And let the King come in. 
 
 “Who is the King?” Behold the marks,— 
 His face is scarred with pain; 
 The dews of night are on his locks 
 Where he has watched in vain. 
 
 “Who is the King?” Behold the crown 
 Of thorns that pierce his brow, 
 The sceptre of the broken reed— 
 These are his symbols now. 
 
 But swing your gates, oh, hopeless ones; 
 Within your lowly door 
 
 The King of Glory cometh in, 
 Your King for evermore. 
 
EV 
 CHICAGO 
 
 CAME to my Chicago pastorate in 1872, the 
 year following the great fire. It was a year of 
 turmoil and changes. The church to which I 
 went was not very strong. It worshipped in a 
 frame building on Wabash Avenue. A short time 
 after going there we bought a brick building on 
 Indiana Avenue, a better location, but with a build- 
 ing still inferior, and it was uphill work. Just then 
 a somewhat serious accident laid me aside for a 
 time. My father was bringing my horse and a new 
 carriage from Milwaukee by steamer and I went 
 down to meet him. It was a dark and stormy night. 
 Driving down Michigan Avenue an omnibus col- 
 lided with my carriage and threw us all out on the 
 pavement. I landed on my head and became un- 
 conscious, remaining flighty for a day or two. 
 During that time Dr. Gray often called or sent to 
 inquire regarding my condition. On recovering I 
 went to his office to thank him for his kind atten- 
 tions. He waived it all aside with the remark, 
 + Oh, it wast thatiat all? 
 “ Wasn’t what?” I asked. 
 “Wasn't love. You remember when you came 
 
 59 
 
60 CHARLES LEMUEL THOMPSON 
 
 to Chicago you were hard up, and I divided my 
 loaf with you. I knew if you died I should never 
 see any of that again, so 1 was anxious.” 
 
 Two important church events marked those 
 years. The first was the great revival under Mr. 
 Moody. ‘The tabernacle seating ten thousand peo- 
 ple was packed day and night. I have been in many 
 revival movements since, but none has so im- 
 pressed me with a sense of divine power at work 
 on the hearts of people as did those meetings. 
 Without clap-trap or nonsense, without stage tricks 
 or undue appeal to the emotions, Mr. Moody re- 
 mains to my mind the prince of evangelists. The 
 results were deep, widespread, permanent and only 
 good., There were many dramatic illustrations of 
 the transforming power of God’s spirit. 
 
 The following story is worth a mention: An 
 Trish lady of fine bearing and culture had fled from 
 her beautiful Irish home and her second husband, 
 on learning with horror that her first husband, 
 whom she had supposed dead in Africa, was alive 
 and coming home. It was a genuine Enoch Arden 
 case. She had a son in Chicago. She came to 
 him. Unhappy, distressed, she sought the Moody 
 meetings. Coming to me after one of the services 
 she unburdened the whole story. Her son was in 
 my congregation. Both were converted and with 
 many others joined my church the same day. Then 
 her one passion was to heal the hurt of her heart 
 by doing good to others. She began as a Bible 
 
CHICAGO 61 
 
 reader in the city prison. With camp-stool and 
 Bible she went from grated door to door opening 
 to the poor inmates the joy she herself had found. 
 Her work and her signal power attracted the notice 
 of Frances Willard, who induced her to take the 
 temperance platform. In this work she attracted 
 wide attention as a lecturer of singular magnetism 
 and persuasive power. She came to me one morn- 
 ing to say that she was on her way to Bay City to 
 lecture, and then with striking seriousness she 
 added, “I have a feeling that something is going 
 to happen to me, and I came in to ask you, if my 
 presentiment comes true, that you will keep an eye 
 on Frank” (her son). I promised but made light 
 of her fears. The next day I received a telegram 
 from Bay City saying that Mrs. M. had been killed 
 by a fall down stairs, and asking me to break the 
 news to Frank. An impressive sight at her 
 funeral was the presence of a number of men who 
 had been prisoners at the city jail, to whom she 
 had preached the gospel and who came to testify to 
 their love and gratitude to one who had helped 
 them over some of life’s hard places. 
 
 Many similar incidents could be written down. 
 One, the memory of which is always with me, was 
 the case of a young man to whom Mr. Moody 
 asked me to talk in the inquiry room, and who 
 startled me by saying that he had robbed an Ex- 
 press Company in Cleveland and was a fugitive 
 from justice. I refused to hear his confession till 
 
62 CHARLES LEMUEL THOMPSON 
 
 we had called Mr. Moody. Together we prayed 
 with him that he might have strength to do what 
 was right. He appealed to us to tell him what he 
 should do. Mr. Moody replied, 
 
 “T will not tell you what in a like case I would 
 not be willing to do myself. Ask God.” 
 
 With no urging from us, he made up his mind to 
 take the next train to Cleveland and surrender him- 
 self to the authorities. For himself, he said, he 
 cared little. But his mother—it would kill her. 
 But he went. At the tabernacle that evening Mr. 
 Moody handed me a telegram from the young man 
 saying that he knew he was doing what God would 
 have him do, and asking our prayers. He was sent 
 to the penitentiary, but within those gloomy walls 
 he lived a Christian life. He wrote me occasion- 
 ally telling of his joys amid his sorrows. One day 
 I received a letter, the first sheet written by him- 
 self, breathing an unshaken trust in God and re- 
 joicing in the new life he would live when his time 
 had expired. The last sheet was written by his 
 sister, telling me that a sudden illness had taken 
 her brother, but that he had died in peace and 
 triumph. Such victories are the best apologetics. 
 
 The other historical occasion during my Chicago 
 ministry was the trial of David Swing for heresy. 
 Its effects were sad and far reaching, hastening, I 
 trust, the end of such trials in the Presbyterian 
 Church—in any Church. That it was the first of 
 
CHICAGO 63 
 
 several succeeding trials does not break the opti- 
 mism of the preceding sentence. The more of 
 such trials we have, the sooner the end of them 
 will come. 
 
 As is known, Prof. Francis L. Patton prosecuted 
 David Swing on several counts, the chief of which 
 was that he denied the divinity of Christ. It was 
 all a mistake. Swing was a poet, Dr. Patton was 
 a theologian. Those two cannot be successfully 
 hitched up together. It was difficult for Swing to 
 affirm or deny any theological tenets. It was diffi- 
 cult for Patton to find any sound theology in 
 Swing’s poetic flights. So the fierce battle was 
 joined in the Presbytery of Chicago. I have never 
 heard a more brilliant and powerful forensic than 
 the indictment by Professor Patton. When he fell 
 back exhausted by his tremendous presentment we 
 were nearly as ready to vote Professor Swing 
 guilty of all misdemeanors as was the British 
 House of Commons to so vote on Hastings when 
 Sheridan, closing his indictment, fell into the arms 
 of Burke, who (as Macaulay says) “ hugged him 
 with generous admiration.” We were not quite 
 ready to hug Professor Patton, but there could be 
 no doubt of the generous admiration. We had not 
 then heard Dr. George C. Noyes in his rejoinder. 
 The indictment was all in vain so far as the Pres- 
 bytery was concerned. It knew David Swing and 
 made allowance for his beautiful vagaries, but on 
 an appeal to synod he was condemned. 
 
64 CHARLES LEMUEL THOMPSON 
 
 I had been brought up under conservative teach- 
 ing. At Princeton I imbibed the theology of Dr. 
 Hodge, one of the most godly men I ever knew. 
 But gradually I veered away from the extreme con- 
 servative position and became a moderate liberal. 
 I helped to defend Swing in his main contentions, 
 though conscious that his poetic temperament led 
 him often into vague statements which could easily 
 be interpreted as heretical. 
 
 As a result of the Swing trial a large number 
 of the Chicago pastors became so dissatisfied with 
 the course of The Interior, of which Dr. Patton 
 was editor, that they proposed to found a new 
 paper which should express the sentiment of the 
 liberal wing of the Church. The movement came 
 to the knowledge of Cyrus McCormick, the owner 
 of The Interior, who sent for Arthur Mitchell, 
 the best beloved of our pastors, to see if something 
 could not be done to avoid having two rival papers, 
 when even one was not self-supporting. Dr. 
 Mitchell maintained that the paper was needed. 
 
 Then Mr. McCormick asked, ‘‘ Well, what will 
 satisfy your” 
 
 Mitchell replied, “An equal share in the man- 
 agement of the paper.” 
 
 This seemed entirely fair to Mr. McCormick and 
 he agreed to accept as co-editor with Dr. Patton 
 any man whom the Chicago pastors might name. 
 They named me, and I added this editorial work 
 
CHICAGO 65 
 
 to my church work in the hope of promoting har- 
 mony in the Presbytery. 
 
 When Professor Patton and I met to arrange 
 details, we came to a block on the question of 
 editorials. He desired that all editorials should be 
 personal, and signed by the initials of the writer, 
 saying, ““ You don’t want to be responsible for my 
 editorials, and I don’t want to be responsible for 
 yours.” 
 
 This I declined to accept, and said in my reply, 
 “Harmony is the purpose of the new plan. We 
 must not advertise that we cannot trust one 
 another.” 
 
 As we were both equally determined, I notified 
 Mr. McCormick that [ could not accept the edito- 
 rial position. On being informed of the reason, he 
 decided in favor of the unsigned editorials. So the 
 Professor sent me a note saying, “All right, 
 Thompson. Let it be unsigned editorials, and we 
 will not quarrel oftener than we can help.” 
 
 On this basis he and I got along beautifully. I 
 did not always agree with what he wrote. I have 
 no doubt he often disagreed with what I wrote, 
 probably had good reason to disagree. But wé 
 managed to keep our differences out of the paper, 
 and on the whole those were happy days. Dr. 
 Patton, however, did not long maintain an active 
 interest in the paper. His editorials became in- — 
 creasingly infrequent. Often on Monday morn- 
 ings Gray and I were obliged to rush in some 
 
66 CHARLES LEMUEL THOMPSON 
 
 unexpected matter of our own. The astute Mr. 
 McCormick, after a while, took cognizance of the 
 situation. He issued a new order. Instead of the 
 salary we had been paid, he ordered payment by 
 space, so much a column. Then I had the ad- 
 vantage. The editorial columns had to be filled 
 and perforce I made the money. Dr. Patton soon 
 wearied of this plan and notified me that he had 
 sent his resignation to Mr. McCormick. On my 
 inquiring why, he replied, “I refuse further to 
 write by the yard.” 
 
 I worked on alone for a few months, then Mr. 
 McCormick, that the conservatives might not be 
 without a representative, named as my coadjutor 
 another professor, Dr. Leroy J. Halsey. Until I 
 left Chicago, we worked together in perfect 
 harmony. 
 
 During all these years, Dr. Gray was the man- 
 aging editor. He generally managed the editors as 
 well as the contributors. My fellowship with Gray 
 then, and afterward, constitutes one of the sweetest 
 memories of my life. I have known many editors, 
 religious and otherwise, but I have never known 
 one who had such a combination of editorial quali- 
 ties. His wit was genial and if need be sharp; his 
 retort swift and keen, his advocacy of any cause he 
 espoused fearless and uncompromising and his 
 treatment of all his comrades generous and chival- 
 ric. To a fine scorn for sham and pretense he 
 added a consideration for the feelings of others 
 
CHICAGO 67 
 
 which was tender as a woman’s. He was equally 
 at home handling a stiletto to prick the skin of an 
 opponent, or a bludgeon to crush his skull. When 
 he died, a prominent minister of our Church said 
 to me, “ Years ago Dr. Gray attacked me severely 
 in The Interior, and then wrote me, ‘ You may 
 have four columns for a reply and not a word from 
 me afterward.’”’ How characteristic of the man! 
 
 During my Chicago residence I took up author- 
 ship. In addition to my editorial labors I wrote 
 “Times of Refreshing,” a history of American re- 
 vivals. ‘The book was called for by the religious 
 activities following the Moody meetings. It was 
 therefore temporal and had no extensive sale, 
 rendered even less extensive by the failure of the 
 publishers. 
 
 About this time I went into the lecture business. 
 A few of us who were close friends formed a tri- 
 umvirate. Dr. William Alvin Bartlett was the 
 brilliant pastor of the Plymouth Congregational 
 Church of Chicago. Dr. Charles H. Richards was 
 the popular pastor of the Congregational Church 
 in Madison, Wisconsin. We three determined to 
 replenish our purses and incidentally to enlighten 
 literary audiences in Wisconsin and Minnesota. I 
 have forgotten the themes on which my partners 
 descanted. My favorite subject was “ The Wives 
 of Men of Genius,” in which I traced the experi- 
 
68 CHARLES LEMUEL THOMPSON 
 
 ences of the unfortunate wives from Xanthippe 
 down to modern times. This lecture I have given 
 a multitude of times both east and west. Our tours 
 were fairly successful, though I had some peculiar 
 experiences journeying in those northern states in 
 a severe winter. On one trip our engine was 
 stalled by a great snow storm, and landed me in 
 Eau Clair just in time to see my audience, weary 
 of waiting for hours, going home. 
 
 But the most amusing experience I ever had in 
 the lecture line was when I yielded to the seductions 
 of a gentleman of engaging address who came to 
 me one day with the proposition that he should be 
 my advance agent for a lecture tour. He offered 
 flattering financial returns and incidentally a good 
 deal of reputation. Our first city was to be Louis- 
 ville, Kentucky. My agent went south ahead of 
 the time, and I followed. When I reached the 
 beautiful southern city I was nearly paralyzed to 
 see the ways in which I had been advertised. 
 Buffalo Bill could scarcely beat it. From show 
 windows and from the backs and fronts of “ sand- 
 wich-men,”’ everywhere I turned I found myself 
 placarded as “ The Henry Ward Beecher” of the 
 west, not to hear whom would be nearly a national 
 calamity! I had some friends in Louisville; I was 
 mortally afraid I should meet some of them. I 
 got nervous under the ordeal and dodged down 
 side streets whenever I saw the inevitable sandwich 
 man. By the time of the lecture I was pretty near 
 
CHICAGO 69 
 
 a collapse, but I struggled through before a com- 
 fortable audience. 
 
 The next night was at Indianapolis. I avoided 
 the sandwich man by arriving late. I might as 
 well not have arrived at all. I was scheduled to 
 appear in the Academy of Music with a three thou- 
 sand capacity. I faced a beggarly audience, a mere 
 corporal’s guard, scattered around the auditorium. 
 They listened patiently, perhaps pityingly, while 
 my literary chariot wheels dragged their heavy 
 rounds through the hour. The Indianapolis 
 Journal prefaced a kindly mention of the lecture 
 by the statement that the speaker had no occasion 
 to be proud of his audience. I took the first train 
 for Chicago, having broken promptly with my ad- 
 vertising agent. Poor fellow, it was not wholly 
 his fault, nor poor me was it wholly mine. It was 
 partly his fault for making a fool of me, and 
 partly mine for consenting to be made a fool of. 
 However let us accept such an experience as “ nor- 
 malcy ’ for ambitious young people. What a pity 
 there is not some easier schoolroom than that in 
 which Dame Experience presides. 
 
 My mind goes back to the Chicago of fifty years 
 ago, and dwells upon some of the ministers of that 
 day. Robert W. Patterson, D.D., was the Nestor 
 of the group. I do not recall the length of his 
 notable pastorate. It was long enough to make 
 him the prime minister. He had all the gifts and 
 
70 CHARLES LEMUEL THOMPSON 
 
 graces necessary for his leadership. A man of 
 sound and strong convictions, of courtly presence 
 and bearing, and of a mind so judicial that he easily 
 led in the plans and policies of the Presbytery. 
 
 An amusing incident occurred one day when he 
 invited my friend, Dr. Oscar A. Hills, of Cincin- 
 nati, to occupy his pulpit. Dr. Hills was a man of 
 meek and apparently weak physique and of a very 
 ladylike voice in conversation. Dr. Patterson 
 began to be anxious lest he had made a mistake, 
 whether his preacher could possibly be heard. 
 After Hills had led in a very quiet and gentle 
 prayer, Dr. Patterson leaned over to him and said, 
 “ Brother Hills, there is something peculiar in the 
 acoustics of this building. It will perhaps be well 
 if you raise your voice.” 
 
 Dr. Hills thought there must be something un- 
 usually peculiar in the structure of that building, 
 so he let his voice out. Now the gentleness of his 
 voice was wholly a thing for personal conversation. 
 It had tremendous capacity when he pulled out all 
 the stops. On this occasion he pulled them all out. 
 The solemn sound rolled and thundered and echoed 
 around the arches. And the church had good echo- 
 ing capacity. So, as the sermon rose, the thunders 
 increased, Dr. Patterson was aghast. He regretted 
 that he had admonished the preacher who was 
 making so much noise that pastor and people scarce 
 could hear him. Dr. Hills, however, with Dr. Pat- 
 terson’s admonition in mind, was anxious lest he 
 
CHICAGO 71 
 
 hadn’t spoken loud enough, so after church he 
 asked a friend whether the audience could hear him. 
 
 “Hear you,’ was the reply, “the dead heard 
 you.” 
 
 I have mentioned the name of a pastor who came 
 a little later, Dr. Arthur Mitchell, of the First 
 Church. He had all the qualifications for a happy 
 pastorate and was universally beloved. He, too, 
 was a man of convictions. With them was united 
 a suavitor in modo which drew people to him and 
 held them in the bonds of a great affection. He 
 was, however, able to show a righteous indignation 
 on occasion. He told me once of a time when it 
 served him well. The First Church at that time 
 had a heavy debt, which burdened the pastor’s 
 mind. One day, passing the church, he was sur- 
 prised to see a stone cutter at work, carving a 
 scroll on the brown stone coping. The thought of 
 the debt set him on fire. He called up to the 
 workman with one emphatic word, “ Stop.” The 
 workman, surprised, looked down on the small 
 man on the sidewalk who had ordered him to stop. 
 
 “ And who are you that you should be ordering 
 me to stop?” 
 
 “T am the pastor of this church, and I tell you 
 to stop.” 
 
 The tone was too imperious to be disregarded. 
 The workman put up his tools and stopped his 
 work. The result is still evident, or was a few 
 years ago when I was passing by. The scroll was 
 
72 CHARLES LEMUEL THOMPSON 
 
 unfinished ; it stopped exactly where Mitchell said 
 it should. 
 
 Another of the strong men of those days in the 
 Chicago pulpit was Dr. Monroe Gibson. He was 
 one of Mr. Moody’s valued helpers in the great 
 revival. A virile preacher and a great scholar, he 
 was popular not only in the Second Church, but 
 throughout the city. From Chicago he returned 
 to his native land to assume the pastorate of St. 
 John’s Wood Presbyterian Church, of London. 
 There in a long and fruitful pastorate he did a 
 most notable work, and has passed recently to his 
 reward. 
 
 Dr. Abbott E. Kittredge was a good preacher, 
 but he was a great pastor. The old Third Church 
 prospered steadily under his ministry. He knew 
 the subtle art of winning people by revealing a 
 deep and affectionate interest in them. When he 
 went to New York his place in Chicago long re- 
 mained vacant. The friendship formed when we 
 were pastors together in the West was happily con- 
 tinued in the East when our churches were not far 
 apart on Madison Avenue. Memory pleads for 
 further recognition of these personalities. They 
 cannot be written here, but they are written on tab- 
 lets from which no lapse of years can erase them. 
 
V 
 PITTSBURGH 
 
PSALM CXXI1, 
 
 The Lord is thy keeper and his shade 
 Attends thee on thy way. 
 
 The moon shall not thee make afraid, 
 Nor sun smite thee by day. 
 
 The Lord from evil shall keep thee, 
 Thy soul he watcheth o’er. 
 
 Coming and going he shall be 
 Thy keeper evermore. 
 
V 
 PITTSBURGH 
 
 N the spring of 1878, I received an invitation 
 from the Third Presbyterian Church of Pitts- 
 burgh to preach for them. I went, knowing 
 
 little of the church, except that it was one of the 
 leading churches of the city. That my old friend, 
 Dr. Hills, was then a pastor in Allegheny made me 
 more ready to go, and at least have a visit with 
 him. I was warmly received and after returning 
 home received a unanimous call. I was loath to 
 leave the great city of the West. It was bound to 
 me by many precious friendships and associations. 
 The rush of its mighty life attracted me. But I 
 had in various ways been diverted from my calling 
 as a preacher, and the opportunity which seemed 
 open in the Smoky City to give myself without dis- 
 tractions to the one business of minister of the 
 gospel finally decided the case. So, though it 
 pulled my heart strings, severing many close ties, 
 and especially breaking my close friendship with 
 Dr. Gray, the call was accepted. The week of my 
 leaving he published a poem, the first lines of which 
 ran thus: 
 
 i 
 
76 CHARLES LEMUEL THOMPSON 
 
 God go with thee, C. L. T. 
 Bowling down the iron track, 
 
 Forty miles an hour from me, 
 And—I know it—looking back. 
 
 My welcome to Pittsburgh was all that could be 
 desired, but I regarded my new task with a good 
 deal of apprehension. The Third Church had had 
 a notable history. Within its walls the union of 
 the Old School and New School was consummated 
 in 1871. Its pulpit had been adorned by famous 
 preachers. Dr. Matthew B. Riddle, in his day, 
 was a power not only in the Third Church, but 
 throughout the city and western Pennsylvania. 
 Dr. Henry Kendall, after a remarkable pastorate 
 there, went to his yet greater work in the Board 
 of Home Missions. Dr. Herrick Johnson, Dr. 
 John De Witt, and Dr. Samuel H. Kellogg gave 
 added luster to the historic pulpit. Was not the 
 very mention of this galaxy enough to make a 
 young preacher afraid—one who was still in his 
 thirties. 
 
 In addition, the old Third was somewhat run 
 down. Dr. Leonard Bacon, a brilliant Congrega- 
 tionalist, had been supplying them for half a year, 
 but had done nothing more than preach. A pre- 
 vious pastor had alienated some of the members, 
 chief among them that great philanthropist, Wil- 
 liam Thaw. When I went it was a question 
 whether he would come back and renew his inter- 
 
PITTSBURGH 77 
 
 est. One of my first Sundays I sought an offering 
 for Home Missions, and the session was greatly 
 encouraged when his check for a thousand dollars 
 was found in the plate. From that time he became 
 one of my strongest helpers. I never appealed to 
 him in vain, often getting more than I asked. 
 
 He was vice-president of the Pennsylvania Rail- 
 road and supplied me liberally with passes. The 
 general manager of the road, Mr. J. D. Layng, 
 was similarly generous. For example, when my 
 wife was ill and needed a change, Mr. Thaw sent 
 me a note saying that Mr. Layng’s private car 
 would be attached to the night express, and would 
 be at my disposal, with anybody I chose to invite. 
 He added that we need make no provision for the 
 journey, that Mr. Layng’s cook would be on the 
 car, and the larder would be well provided. And 
 indeed it was. At Trenton the car was detached 
 and made a special to Atlantic City. In fact the 
 track was cleared and we were driven through on 
 faster time. This is only one illustration of the 
 many kindnesses shown me by these railroad 
 magnates. 
 
 Our work prospered from the first. Although it 
 was getting to be a down town church, there were 
 still a great many strong men in it. The equipment 
 was excellent, a goodly corps of workers was de- 
 veloped, the congregations grew, and the benevo- 
 lent work was large. 
 
 My fellowship with other ministers was delight- 
 
78 CHARLES LEMUEL THOMPSON 
 
 ful. Of course there was Hills, always my friend. 
 Had he not met his wife at my house? My nearest 
 ministerial neighbor was Dr. Sylvester F. Scovel, 
 of the First Church. Against his protest we called 
 him “doctor” because of his scholarship and his 
 good fellowship. Up to that time he steadily re- 
 fused the title, but later when he became president 
 of Wooster it was forced upon him, though always 
 worn under protest. He was a good comrade, at 
 once the gentlest and the most unyielding of men. 
 He could be stubborn with such Chesterfieldian 
 grace that it almost seemed to be gracious pliability. 
 I sometimes used to say to him that it would be 
 money in his pocket if he didn’t know so much. 
 Which rather stupid remark meant that the very 
 fullness of his knowledge somewhat deflected him 
 from the directness of his aim. His fullness at 
 times overflowed the banks of pulpit discourse and 
 wandered far afield. It was always interesting, but 
 sometimes after an hour’s talk, he would give a 
 startled glance at his watch, and remark that, not 
 having compassed his theme, he would resume on 
 the following Sabbath. He was a most self- 
 forgetful student and reader. Coming into his 
 study one morning I found him with a worn ex- 
 pression as if he had been out all night. On inquiry 
 into the cause of his battered appearance, he con- 
 fessed that the preceding evening he had become 
 interested in looking over the back numbers of 
 “The Christian Statesman,” a publication of The 
 
PITTSBURGH 79 
 
 National Reform Association, had in fact, become 
 so absorbed that he was unconscious of the flight 
 of time till the morning bell struck six o’clock. 
 When I expressed my admiration at such devotion 
 to research, with only a bit of surprise at the type 
 of literature that had such enthralling power, he 
 stoutly maintained that the night had not been 
 wasted. 
 
 He was a delightful neighbor. We became es- 
 pecially intimate when, as members of a committee 
 of the trustees of the Western University of Penn- 
 sylvania, we went east in pursuit of a chancellor. 
 It was a delightful experience, though we soon 
 found it was no easy job. We visited Princeton, 
 New York and New Haven, but all in vain. Our 
 interview with Dr. McCosh, at Princeton, was es- 
 pecially interesting. He received us most gra- 
 ciously and we explained our errand. We must 
 have a chancellor of uncommon gifts and varied 
 capacity. Whom would he suggest? In his broad 
 Scotch he expressed a very kind desire to help us, 
 and after a pause for thought he said he would 
 nominate two men. ‘That was hopeful; we really 
 wanted only one. His first nominee was the Rev. 
 William C. Roberts, of Elizabeth, New Jersey. 
 
 “What are his qualifications? ” 
 
 “ Weel, he is chairman of my committee on the 
 curriculum. He knows my ideas, and will be 
 quite weel fitted to apply them to your Western 
 University.” 
 
80 CHARLES LEMUEL THOMPSON 
 
 “But what about his administrative gifts? ” 
 
 “ Oh, I don’t know about that, but he will be 
 quite able to expound my ideas of education.” 
 
 “ Well, Dr. McCosh, who is the other? ” 
 
 “Tt is the Reverend Dr. Simon J. McPherson, 
 of Orange, New Jersey. He was a student here. 
 I examined him for three hours on the Scottish 
 philosophy, and two hours on the Kantian, and he 
 stood it very weel, very weel indeed. I think he 
 would do very weel. He is weel fitted to teach 
 philosophy in your college.”’ 
 
 “Which Orange does he live in? We under- 
 stand there are several.” 
 
 “Oh, I don’t know which Orange. You will 
 find that out.”’ 
 
 We did not at once follow up either of those 
 lines. Perhaps because it was the judgment of the 
 trustees that our chancellor must have, among other 
 qualifications, a strong capacity for getting money. 
 We doubted whether familiarity with the Princeton 
 curriculum, and with the Scottish and German 
 philosophies would secure the necessary funds. 
 
 As chairman of the committee, I also approached 
 Dr. Francis Brown, of Union Seminary, who after- 
 ward became a dear personal friend, but he was 
 averse to leaving his scholarly career for one of 
 administration. In this he was wise. 
 
 The man we finally secured became, later, a 
 prominent educator. One day when I was con- 
 
PITTSBURGH 81 
 
 ferring with William Thaw, who was a chief factor 
 in the Western University, I said, 
 
 ‘I have a friend in the Ohio pastorate who, in 
 my judgment, would be worth considering for the 
 chancellorship, the Rev. Henry M. MacCracken, 
 of Toledo.” 
 
 After a few questions, Mr. Thaw said, “ Send 
 for him.’”’ An invitation to visit the University was 
 sent to him. He came promptly, made a favorable 
 impression, and was soon inducted into office. His 
 term of service, however, was short. I was sur- 
 prised one day by a letter from Dr. John Hall, of 
 New York, making inquiry about our Dr. Mac- 
 Cracken. They wanted a vice-chancellor for New 
 York University, and his name had been suggested. 
 In reply I said a number of good things, and in a 
 short time he was chosen to that office. He went to 
 New York, where he made a distinct success as an 
 educator. Dr. Howard Crosby was at that time 
 the chancellor, but his other responsibilities were 
 pressing hard, and on his resignation Dr. Mac- 
 Cracken was chosen to succeed him, and for about 
 twenty-five years conducted the affairs of the Uni- 
 versity with marked success. He was especially 
 fortunate in securing some large gifts and in es- 
 tablishing the University in its present commanding 
 location. He originated the idea of the “ Hall of 
 Fame,” and secured funds for its erection. If it 
 shall ever come to be an American Pantheon of let- 
 ters, his name always will be associated with it. 
 
82 CHARLES LEMUEL THOMPSON 
 
 During my four years in Pittsburgh every thing 
 was harmonious. There was never any division of 
 sentiment, though many of my men, like General 
 Moorhead and William Thaw, were accustomed to 
 have their own way. The church counted in its 
 membership many of the leading men of the city in 
 business and professorial life. The man, who per- 
 haps will be acclaimed as the leading spirit in the 
 history of the church was William Thaw. He was 
 a liberal giver to all good causes, one of the most 
 generous I have ever known. Nor have I known a 
 clearer headed and stronger business man. He 
 would have made a fine secretary of state. 
 
 Talking with him one day about his many bene- 
 factions, I asked him how he was able to respond 
 to such continuous calls. He tossed the question off 
 easily, “Only habit, nothing else.” 
 
 “But,” I persisted, “how did you get the 
 habit ?’” 
 
 “Well,” he replied, ‘‘ when my wife and I were 
 married I was a clerk on a thousand dollars a year. 
 We began then to tithe that income. Ever since 
 the more I gave, the more I had. I have only been 
 trying to keep up with the Lord.” 
 
 Another man whose friendship I prized was 
 Professor S. P. Langley, who died of a broken 
 heart, because of his apparent failure as the in- 
 ventor of aeronautics. 
 
 In 1882 I was elected a commissioner to the 
 
PITTSBURGH 83 
 
 General Assembly meeting in Springfield, Illinois, 
 and was appointed one of the speakers at the popu- 
 lar meeting for Home Missions, the other principal 
 speaker being my old friend, Dr. Samuel J. 
 Nicholls, of St. Louis. I do not know how, but in 
 some way my address attracted the attention of the 
 Second Church of Kansas City, whose pulpit at 
 that time was vacant. They asked me, before re- 
 turning home, to give a lecture in Kansas City. 
 With no knowledge of their purpose, I accepted 
 and talked to a large audience on “ Wives of Men 
 of Genius.” 
 
 They promptly pressed on me a call to their 
 church. They were just completing a handsome 
 new building. The city was on the eve of great 
 prosperity. The congregation contained many of 
 the most prominent men in the city; and the call 
 was attractive. However, I saw no reason for 
 leaving Pittsburgh, so without giving them any en- 
 couragement I went home and settled down to 
 work. Ina few weeks a committee of three, S. B. 
 Armour, H. EF. Holden, and Major J. K. Thatcher, 
 appeared and announced that they had come to 
 Pittsburgh to stay till they had my acceptance. 
 They persuaded me that a large and effectual door 
 was open for me in that western city, and after a 
 struggle, I sent my acceptance. 
 
 Mr. Thaw, my friend and adviser in all impor- 
 tant matters, was ill at the time, so I could have no 
 conference with him, but later I went to his bed- 
 
84 CHARLES LEMUEL THOMPSON 
 
 side to talk it over. He relieved my embarrassment 
 by saying that he had heard I was behaving badly, 
 and then went on to consider the matter so defi- 
 nitely from the side of personal friendship as quite 
 to shake my decision. In answer to my remark 
 that the Third Church was fast becoming a down 
 town proposition, and that when he and a few 
 other liberal men went away, the work would be 
 under serious handicaps, he went so far as to say 
 that if I would remain, he would personally relieve 
 the pressure of such handicaps. But he was a large 
 man and viewed the situation in the light of the 
 Kingdom. He finally said, “If your duty seems 
 clear to you, go and God bless you. We are work- 
 ing for the Kingdom, the locality is a minor 
 consideration.” 
 
 Not all the church officers took so kindly a view. 
 I remember when I broached the subject to the 
 session General Moorhead was unable to restrain 
 his feelings. He abruptly left the room, slamming 
 the door behind him. When I had preached my 
 farewell sermon from the text, “Be ye therefore 
 steadfast, unmovable,” the General came forward, 
 and with much heat and an emphatic gesture ex- 
 claimed, “ Why were not you immovable?” It 
 suddenly occurred to me that my text had been 
 somewhat blunderingly chosen. 
 
VI 
 KANSAS CITY 
 
ISLAND LAKE CAMP-FIRE. 
 
 Red Mars is flaming overhead, 
 The camp-fire flames below, 
 
 The moon has pushed her silver barge 
 Into the sunset glow; 
 
 The shadows of the sounding pines 
 Sweep down the silent lake, 
 
 While ’gainst and over them the waves 
 Of firelight-fall and break. 
 
 Closer the circle draws tts lines 
 In this cathedral dim, 
 
 While down the nave the priestly pines 
 Chant soft their evening hymn. 
 
 No time is this for common speech, 
 No place for idle word, 
 
 Our spirits feel the holiness 
 By which the leaves are stirred. 
 
 This is the oldest house of God, 
 Star-tapers stately burn, 
 
 And whispers of the angels seem 
 To move each leaf and fern. 
 
 So lower sink our voices awed, 
 We talk not of to-day— 
 
 As the fire falls to a softer mood 
 Above the ashes gray— 
 
 But of olden days, and voices hushed, 
 Of burdens, cares and griefs, 
 
 Of hopes that rose as rise the sparks, 
 Of faith and faith’s relief. 
 
 And there as swaying pines revealed 
 The steadfast stars above 
 
 We owned the light above the shade, 
 And whispered “God is love.” 
 
 Red Mars hung low, the woods above, 
 The pines had ceased to sigh, 
 
 And Silence with her blessing closed 
 The Night’s deep litany. 
 
 The fire sank to ashes gray, 
 The figures one by one 
 
 Slipped silent from the spent camp-fire, 
 And left the Night alone. 
 
VI 
 KANSAS GUD: 
 
 HE, change from Pittsburgh to Kansas City 
 was more than a change of locality. It was 
 from a staid and settled community to one 
 
 in the forming. It already had the snap and ginger 
 characteristic of the West. It also had some of the 
 inconveniences of newness. Dr. John Hall once 
 told me of a visit he made to that city, some time 
 before my going there. As he was about to leave 
 the hotel on Sunday morning for a walk to the 
 church in which he was to preach, a messenger 
 came to him to say that it would be out of the ques- 
 tion for him to walk, the mud was too deep. But 
 they had provided a very docile and comfortable 
 horse which the preacher must mount, and in that 
 unusual style be carried to his service. The good 
 doctor was wholly unused to that kind of convey- 
 ance. He was, moreover, of such ample propor- 
 tions that he hesitated to impose himself on the 
 animal. But the messenger, who indeed was one 
 of the elders, was very insistent, the horse was 
 waiting at the block, the church bell was ringing, 
 there was no alternative. He felt as though he 
 were heading a procession! 
 
 87 
 
88 CHARLES LEMUEL THOMPSON 
 
 But was it not beautiful to see a city in the 
 making, and to have a small share in that making? 
 Under the inspiration of that thought inconven- 
 iences and difficulties disappeared and a very happy 
 ministry was begun with enthusiasm. ‘The first 
 service was held in the new church, a fine building, 
 seating a thousand people. Then and steadily 
 thereafter it was full, often crowded. The prayer 
 meetings were also large, many coming who had 
 not often attended such a service. But the church 
 was new and was not organized for work. Its re- 
 sources were large, but had not been drawn upon. 
 That, therefore, was my first care. ‘The people 
 were pliant and responsive. So in a very short 
 time I was as much at home as I had been in any 
 congregation. 
 
 In less than a year a great sorrow came upon me 
 in the sudden death of my wife. Ill only a few 
 days, an affliction of the heart, which had often 
 threatened, carried her away. We took her to the 
 family lot at Waukesha, where lie my father and 
 mother and some of my children, and where I 
 hope to rest, when the long journey ends. Even 
 this sorrow bound me closer to my people. Their 
 sympathy was generous and affectionate and 
 greatly helped me during those trying years. 
 My dear sister-in-law came to me and took 
 charge of my house. In a short time she be- 
 came engaged to and married one of my best 
 church officers, Charles H. Doan. Their happi- 
 
KANSAS CITY 89 
 
 ness was brief. In less than a year, pneumonia 
 took him away. 
 
 The next year the church sent me to Europe. It 
 was my first touch upon the old world. There is 
 nothing like a first trip to Europe, its “ first care- 
 less rapture’ cannot be repeated. My son, Robert, 
 was not well, so he accompanied me. We took, of 
 course, the ordinary well-beaten path of travel, but 
 to me it was as if the road had never been traveled 
 before. I have gone many times since in much 
 more extended ways, but a certain vividness has 
 never been repeated. On returning I took up my 
 work with new courage and zeal. As in my other 
 charges, various outside enterprises interested me. 
 Among them was Park College, of which I became 
 a trustee. I have known many educational institu- 
 tions and have been connected with several, but 
 none where the spirit of sacrifice and devotion to 
 high ideals—educational and religious—were so 
 conspicuous. E,very visit to its halls, and the visits 
 were many, sent me back to my work with renewed 
 appreciation of the worth-whileness of a college 
 where high ideals are of more account than high 
 endowments. What a monument to the faith, cour- 
 age and devotion of one man. The spirit of John 
 A. McAfee still rules its destiny. 
 
 I also became interested in starting a college for 
 young women at Independence, a suburb of the 
 city. The generous gift of a friend made such an 
 institution possible. A beautiful property was se- 
 
90 CHARLES LEMUEL THOMPSON 
 
 cured and a creditable faculty. I was president of 
 its board of trustees and for a while gave it a con- 
 siderable portion of my time. It did much good, 
 but its resources were insufficient, and when hard 
 times came it passed into other hands. Of its 
 recent history I am not informed. 
 
 While these and other like interests engaged me 
 to a greater or less degree, I gave myself to careful 
 pulpit preparation. At this time, as for years 
 before, it was my habit to write the morning ser- 
 mon and deliver it from the manuscript, but only 
 after making myself familiar with it. My evening 
 sermon was usually without notes, or with only a 
 few guide posts to keep my preaching on the track. 
 This habit held me to some precision in thought and 
 diction as well as certain freedom of utterance 
 which gives the firmest hold upon an audience. It 
 is risky for a young preacher to throw away his 
 manuscript, it is perilous to stick to it. 
 
 So generous was the cooperation of my people 
 that we were able to do a great deal of work in 
 church extension. The rapid growth of the city 
 made it essential. We started mission work in new 
 centers of population and had a large part in 
 founding new churches. It was a great privilege to 
 have had a little share in the early development of 
 a city that now stands well up in the list of our 
 great cities. Its location is one secret of its power. 
 It is in the very center of the richest and most pro- 
 ductive sections of our country. The progressive 
 
KANSAS CITY 91 
 
 character of its population yet further explains its 
 standing. Its men of affairs have always been 
 men of vision; they are planning a civic center 
 which will be unsurpassed; and the environs of the 
 city it were difficult to match in any other part of 
 our country. 
 
 Many years ago Dr. Timothy Hill, the great 
 home missionary, who had founded hundreds of 
 churches in the Southwest, stood at a window look- 
 ing out toward the rich prairies of Kansas. “ How 
 beautiful,’ he exclaimed with enthusiasm, and sank 
 back into the arms of Death. Those who today 
 would take an outlook on the future of that central 
 city may well exclaim, “ How beautiful! ” 
 
 During one of my vacations, Dr. Gray tele- 
 graphed me to accompany him and a few friends to 
 northern Wisconsin for a camping expedition. 
 The decision was easily made. I had on several 
 occasions camped in Wisconsin, an ideal state for 
 that purpose. So my son and I were soon on the 
 way. The spot selected was on the Brule River 
 among beautiful pine woods, trout streams and 
 lakes. Others of the party were Harvey C. Olin, 
 Captain Sanderson (Rev. Joseph W.) and his wife. 
 Barring the mosquitoes we had a glorious time. 
 
 One day Mrs. Sanderson and I would go a fish- 
 ing down the Brule. The accommodating train 
 took our boat on board, and several miles above 
 camp let it down into the river. It was a winding 
 
92 CHARLES LEMUEL THOMPSON 
 
 stream, so it turned out to be an unexpectedly long 
 way to camp. We drifted, it seemed endlessly, 
 noon came, but no sign of camp. We grew weary 
 and hungry. As the thought of the distant camp 
 came to me, I sang, “‘ Oh, for the wings of a dove,” 
 which brought from Mrs. Sanderson the laconic 
 remark: “ Wings wouldn’t satisfy me now. I want 
 the whole dove.”’ It was late in the evening when 
 we drifted into camp, to be jeered for our appetites 
 and our lack of piscatorial luck. 
 
 Another day, Gray and I decided on a hunt. 
 Shouldering our guns we pushed for three miles 
 down the Gothic aisles of the glorious pines and 
 came on a beautiful lake. There we found our 
 Indian guide, Edward, and soon were paddling 
 down the lake. At its lower end we waited for the 
 night. It came with showers, but we lit our bow- 
 lantern and started. For hours we skirted the 
 shores in utter silence. There was neither sound 
 nor sign. At last, after midnight the monotony 
 was startlingly varied. What seemed like coals of 
 fire burned near the water’s edge. Edward saw 
 them, too, for though no word was spoken, the 
 canoe veered toward the shore. Presently the coals 
 of fire rose a few feet, and I knew them for the 
 brilliant eyes of a deer. It was an exciting moment. 
 
 On starting out I had said to Gray, “ You take 
 the rifle” (we could use only one) “and I will 
 hold the light.” 
 
KANSAS CITY 93 
 
 “Oh, no, you take the gun, and I will hold the 
 light,” Gray replied politely. : 
 
 He said afterward he knew at the time what 
 would be the penalty of his politeness. But, to use 
 a western phrase, by offering first, I had the drop 
 on him. So the gun was in my hands. It seemed 
 impossible to lift it to my shoulder. Hunter’s 
 paralysis had seized me, the weird beautiful sight 
 entranced me. At length Edward whispered, 
 “ Shoot,” and Gray stammered, “ Shoot.” In des- 
 peration, probably with closed eyes, I pulled the 
 trigger. There was a splash in the water, and a 
 crash among the bushes. The canoe shot to the 
 bank, and Edward, turning to Gray, said, “Old 
 man, you stay here.” 
 
 Gray said it was the first time he was ever called 
 “old man.” 
 
 Edward and I had gone but a few steps when he 
 paused, examined twigs and then pointed to drops 
 of blood on the leaves. We had wounded the poor 
 fellow. After a few rods more the guide seemed to 
 lose the trail, looked perplexed and then said, ‘‘ No 
 find him. I come tomorrow, maybe find him,” 
 
 I did not suspect Edward then. I thought he 
 was a good Indian. So we paddled to the landing 
 and Gray and I found camp toward morning. 
 After a few hours of rest, I said: 
 
 “Gray, I am going back to the lake. I believe 
 that deer can be found.” 
 
 We went. At the cabin, Edward’s wife said he 
 
94 CHARLES LEMUEL THOMPSON 
 
 had gone down the lake. After waiting some time 
 we saw Edward’s canoe come into sight. It ap- 
 proached for a time then suddenly disappeared 
 around a headland. We said, ‘‘ What is the matter 
 with Edward, why doesn’t he come on?” Pres- 
 ently, however, his boat again appeared and soon 
 he ran it up the sand. 
 
 “ Where is the deer?” I asked. ‘‘ No find him,” 
 was the only reply to my repeated questions. 
 
 So we had to be content. On the way back, 
 Mrs. Sanderson, who had accompanied us, said, 
 “Edward has your deer. He came into sight, 
 Saw us waiting, darted back into the woods to hide 
 the deer, and came back empty handed.” 
 
 The more we thought it over, the more sure we 
 became that Edward had seen the deer where it 
 fell, had suddenly decided that the booty were bet- 
 ter than the money for his services, and so led me 
 away. On breaking camp a few days later and 
 coming out, we learned that Edward had recently 
 been in the village and had sold a beautiful buck. 
 
 On June 30, 1887, I was married to Elizabeth 
 Paget Osborn, daughter of Prof. Henry S. Osborn, 
 of Miami University. I therefore took a vacation 
 of unusual length, and our summer down the St. 
 Lawrence, Montreal, Boston and Nantucket was a 
 series of delights. On our return in September, I 
 resumed my work, which continued increasingly 
 prosperous. 
 
VII 
 THE CENTENNIAL ASSEMBLY 
 
NEARING HOME. 
 
 “ He is rapidly failing,’—so smooth came the stroke 
 Down the telegraph line. Through the silence it broke 
 On a heart well-inured to such crashes ere now. 
 And yet, it was strange! That father whose brow 
 Was held clear toward Heaven and level to men 
 Through the storms that blew out of the threescore and ten, 
 Whose strength seemed perennial like that of the pine -— 
 “Fle is failing,’—strange words down the telegraph line. 
 
 Groans the train through the night, through city and land; 
 The race is with Death for the grasp of that hand. 
 
 “ Nearing home—nearing home,” sing the wheels as they fly; 
 Nearing home in the light of the fading sky. 
 I, swift to the home that has drawn me these years, 
 And he unto his, in the sphere beyond spheres: 
 To the father on earth, through the gloom gates of even; 
 To the Father above, through the pearl-gates of heaven. 
 Ah! which shall be first in the race for the home, 
 House below—house on high—which the sooner shall come? 
 
 It is done; thou art first. Take the crown, O, thou best 
 Of all fathers! I meekly salute thee at rest. 
 
VII 
 THE CENTENNIAL ASSEMBLY 
 
 N the spring of 1888, the Presbytery of Kansas 
 City elected me a commissioner to the Centen- 
 nial General Assembly, which was to meet in 
 
 Philadelphia. My wife and I arrived late on the 
 evening before the opening of the Assembly. The 
 next morning Dr. Gray came to me at the Colon- 
 nade Hotel and said, “ We are going to make you 
 moderator today.” 
 
 I did not believe him to be in earnest, and re- 
 garded it as an expression of friendship, with not 
 much purpose behind it. So I smilingly replied, 
 “No, thank you, not now.” 
 
 Dr. Gray grew more serious and insisted that on 
 the train from Chicago he and others had agreed 
 on that plan. 
 
 “Why,” I persisted, “ Dr. McCosh, of Prince- 
 ton, is going to be nominated. [ cannot run against 
 him. If I were disposed to it would be useless. I 
 do not want an empty honor. There will be no 
 chance for a western preacher.” 
 
 He replied, “ This thing has gone further than 
 you think. Dr. Herrick Johnson has agreed to 
 nominate you, and I only want to know who is the 
 
 97 
 
98 CHARLES LEMUEL THOMPSON 
 
 best person to approach Dr. Howard Crosby, who, 
 we desire, should second the nomination.” 
 
 The whole thing was so sudden and unexpected 
 that it was difficult to accept the situation. My 
 reluctance was genuine. I doubted my ability and 
 felt sure that the prestige of Dr. McCosh would 
 carry him to the moderator’s chair. I did not, 
 however, seem to have much to do with it. 
 
 The morning service was held in the historic 
 First Church. I fear my mind was not much on 
 the fine sermon, given by that eloquent preacher, 
 Dr. Joseph T. Smith, the retiring moderator. The 
 session for organization was held that afternoon 
 in Horticultural Hall, as were the subsequent 
 meetings. 
 
 According to Dr. Gray’s program, I was put 
 in nomination by Dr. Johnson. ‘The seconding 
 speech was made by Dr. Crosby. One of them 
 referred to the fact that my voice was power- 
 ful and there would be no difficulty in hearing it 
 in that vast hall. Dr. McCosh was nominated 
 by Dr. John R. Paxton, who, in the course of 
 his speech, made mention of the fact that his can- 
 didate had other qualifications than his voice. Dr. 
 Brownson, of Washington, Pennsylvania, was also 
 nominated. 
 
 When the voting began and my name was called 
 (as was then the custom) I voted for Dr. McCosh. 
 He was called on and inquired of his neighbors for 
 whom he should vote. 
 
THE CENTENNIAL ASSEMBLY 99 
 
 They said, “ Vote for Thompson, he voted for 
 you.” 
 
 He did so and we all retired to an anteroom to 
 await the result. I had no expectation of being 
 elected. Why should a comparatively unknown 
 western preacher be made moderator? Dr. Mc- 
 Cosh was not only the head of a great university, 
 but was recognized on both sides of the Atlantic 
 as one of the greatest of modern philosophers. | 
 was sincerely ashamed of making such a race. I 
 went up to the doctor and said so, and added, “ But 
 it will come out all right; you will be elected, as 
 you should be.” In reply he merely remarked that 
 he felt “ quite fit.” 
 
 When my long time friend, Dr. Joseph Vance, 
 stepped into the room to tell me how the voting 
 was going it gave me unaffected surprise. Pres- 
 ently Drs. Johnson and Crosby appeared at the 
 door. Of course we then knew the result. They 
 and Dr. Brownson congratulated me. Dr. McCosh 
 was too much surprised to get out of his chair. I 
 did not in the least blame him. Who was I that I 
 should be preferred above our most distinguished 
 philosopher? 
 
 In subsequent study of the result to get at its 
 psychology, there appeared to be several elements 
 that contributed. In the first place, as I said in my 
 remarks responding to the welcome Dr. Smith and 
 the Assembly gave me, I viewed it, not in any per- 
 sonal light, but as a tribute to the part of the coun- 
 
 ji 
 
100 CHARLES LEMUEL THOMPSON 
 
 try I represented. In addition there was some fear 
 that Dr. McCosh could not be easily heard in that 
 vast auditorium. Perhaps there was also some feel- 
 ing that he was too great a man for the small af- 
 fairs of parliamentary usage. 
 
 That was still the time when the standing com- 
 mittees were appointed by the moderator. I invited 
 a dozen leading men of the Assembly, including, of 
 course, Dr. Roberts, the stated clerk of the As- 
 sembly, to my rooms for consultation, and we had 
 a strenuous evening, lasting far into the night. 
 These modern moderators hardly realize what an 
 easy time they are having! 
 
 This being the Centennial Assembly, it was one 
 of the most outstanding in the history of the 
 Church. Unusual preparations had been made for 
 it. ‘Two very notable events signalized it. One 
 was a union meeting of our Assembly with that of 
 the Southern Church, then holding its sessions in 
 Baltimore. It was a feast of brotherly love and so 
 to be highly regarded. But now on a review of 
 thirty-four years I am wondering why there have 
 been so many of these love feasts with nothing 
 resulting. I recall that in the following year there 
 was a joyous meeting of a joint committee of 
 Northern and Southern Presbyterians in the pala- 
 tial home of Colonel Elliot F. Shepard, on Fifth 
 Avenue, in New York, to consider the question of 
 reunion. The Colonel was at that time the owner 
 of “ The Mail and Express,” so when resolutions 
 
THE CENTENNIAL ASSEMBLY 101 
 
 of thanks to our host were moved, Dr. Joseph R. 
 Wilson, the father of Woodrow Wilson, seconded 
 them with the remark, ‘“ Let us mail and express 
 them.” Perhaps that has been the trouble. Our 
 movements toward union have gotten no closer 
 than mailing and expressing. 
 
 The other great occasion was the presence of 
 Grover Cleveland, the President of the United 
 States, who spoke to the two Assemblies at a re- 
 ception given by Philadelphia Presbyterians in the 
 Academy of Music, after which he and Mrs. Cleve- 
 land, with the two Moderators and their wives, 
 went through an hour or two of hand-shaking with 
 great fortitude, until some of the people began to 
 come around a second time. 
 
 Of the numerous social functions, one at the 
 beautiful home of Mrs. Morris, at Overbrook, 
 was noteworthy. It was there that I had a 
 long conference with President Cleveland on In- 
 dian affairs, which gave me a high opinion, not 
 only of his ability and sound judgment, but of 
 his kindly and real interest in the subject. When 
 we separated he said, “I will write you my 
 decision soon.” In a very little while his let- 
 ter came to me in Kansas City in his own hand- 
 writing, according to his habit in all important 
 correspondence. 
 
 At the close of the sessions of the Assembly, 
 which throughout had been harmonious, we started 
 for the West, stopping for a day in Cincinnati, 
 
102 CHARLES LEMUEL THOMPSON 
 
 where the Presbyterians had arranged a banquet 
 and a reception. This was rendered especially 
 pleasant by the fact that after an absence of nearly 
 twenty years, there was still a goodly number of 
 personal friends and co-labourers in various church 
 and civic enterprises.” 
 
 But the most important event (to me) connected 
 with the Assembly has yet to be mentioned. I had 
 been asked by Dr. Crosby to preach in his pulpit on 
 Sunday morning, and by Dr. John Hall to preach 
 in the Fifth Avenue Church in the afternoon. I 
 had, one summer, supplied for Dr. T. DeWitt Tal- 
 mage, in Brooklyn, but I have now no recollection 
 that I had ever preached in New York. So I went 
 with much interest. We were entertained at the 
 Buckingham, and that night had dinner at Colonel 
 Shepard’s. The next day I preached as arranged. 
 That evening a messenger came to ask me to call 
 at the home of Mr. VanNorden, only a block away. 
 Quite mystified, I went and found a dozen or more 
 men, the officers of the Madison Avenue Church, 
 who had met to offer me a call to that pulpit, then 
 vacant by the resignation of Dr. Charles S$. Robin- 
 son. It took me by complete surprise. I learned 
 afterward that two other churches had shared in 
 the plot to have me preach in New York. One of 
 them, through its committee, had prepared a call. 
 Before it had been presented the Madison Avenue 
 Church had taken its action. 
 
THE CENTENNIAL ASSEMBLY 103 
 
 I was, of course, unable to decide at that time, 
 but went back to Philadelphia and took up my du- 
 ties in the Assembly. When I had a chance I took 
 Dr. Crosby aside and, telling him of my call, said, 
 “Now, doctor, not as a New Yorker, as my friend, 
 give me your counsel.” 
 
 Without a moment’s hesitation, he _ replied, 
 “ New York is the most difficult place in the coun- 
 try in which to preach the gospel. You come to 
 New York.” 
 
 I had many occasions later to recall both his 
 judgment and his counsel. 
 
 But the time of a great decision was upon me. 
 When the formal call reached me in my home in 
 Kansas City, I was thrown into much perplexity. 
 My work there was wholly pleasant and successful. 
 I thoroughly enjoyed the West. It had been my 
 boyhood home, I liked its free life, its buoyant am- 
 bitions, its quenchless optimism, its pure Amert- 
 canism. And I was afraid of New York, it was 
 too big for me. Moreover I had serious doubts of 
 being able to fit into its multiform life. How 
 would such decided transplanting work? I loved 
 the people in Kansas City, I did not love the 
 strangers who were calling me. But very slowly 
 there came over me the conviction that I might be 
 in danger of seeking my own way, rather than a 
 higher guidance. I had neither sought nor wanted 
 a call to the East. From the day when my parents 
 
104 CHARLES LEMUEL THOMPSON 
 
 took me, a little boy, to Wisconsin my heart had 
 been in the West. I believed in its mighty possi- 
 bilities. New York was little more than a name, 
 and yet something not in me pointed thither. My 
 people held a meeting of protest. So I wavered for 
 days between my heart, and something else. ‘The 
 longer I reflected the clearer that something came 
 out of the shadow, and stood revealed as the face 
 of Providence. So one morning I burned my 
 bridges, went to the telegraph office and sent my 
 acceptance. 
 
 My father had died the year before, and I knew 
 this decision would mean much to my mother. But 
 her advice was “Go.” She believed in her boy a 
 good deal more than he believed in himself. 
 
 That was in June, 1888. A vacation in the 
 Rocky Mountains followed. Then a packing of 
 household goods, a farewell sermon, a visit to my 
 mother in Wisconsin. She was not well. We re- 
 mained with her a week, then, after a promise that 
 she would visit us the next spring in New York, 
 we said “Good-bye” and started East. We had 
 only reached Waukesha when a telegram overtook 
 us telling of her dangerous illness. We found her 
 unconscious from a stroke of apoplexy, and in less 
 than a week she passed peacefully to her rest, and 
 we laid her beside my father in the cemetery at 
 Waukesha. She was one of God’s saints. I owe 
 more to her than can ever be told. In my infancy 
 
THE CENTENNIAL ASSEMBLY 105 
 
 she dedicated me to the ministry, and her prayers 
 held steadily to that one desire. She did not have 
 an easy life. She had what was better, a life of 
 unfaltering faith. 
 

 
Vill 
 NEW YORK 
 
THE DEVIL’S WHITE FLEET, 
 
 With roaring, grinding and crashing, 
 The Prince of the frosted air 
 
 Slid from their glittering ways a fleet 
 Of icebergs stately and fair. 
 
 He gave them the push of a mighty breath; 
 “ Sail South,’ said he, “and wait 
 
 At the ‘roaring forty’ line for the ships 
 That are loaded with human freight, 
 
 “And sink them there to the soundless sea, 
 Hull—mast—and sail—and then 
 Trail back to the line to shout with me 
 Our victory over men.” 
 
 The fair white fleet bore stately on, 
 And without sound or sign, 
 
 With batteries masked and pennants down, 
 Ranged at the “ forty line.” 
 
 And then—since hull and icy spar 
 Would show through the darkest night, 
 They breathed one breath and a mist swept low 
 And veiled them out of sight. 
 
 Silent and grim and deadly there, 
 They wait on the vessels’ track; 
 
 Their allies—the crouching waves around— 
 Curl menacing and black. 
 * * * %* Xx 
 
 Three sailor lads from the swinging bow 
 And three from the crow’s nest peer, 
 
 While the captain stands the bridge—his hand 
 On the call to the engineer. 
 
 “Slow down—dead slow—halt—and reverse!” 
 Come the orders swift and clear; 
 While the great ship drifts on a drifting tide, 
 In a mystery of fear. 
 
 A volley from man’s ally—the Sun— 
 And from God’s wind a breath— 
 
 Shattered the mist! the fleet revealed 
 In its battle line of death! 
 
 Signals the captain, “ Full ahead!” 
 The billows backward fly. 
 
 The good ship takes the broad sea road,— 
 “Fair kelpies of hell, good-bye!” 
 
VIll 
 NEW YORK 
 
 Y ministry in New York began in Septem- 
 ber, 1888. A large congregation greeted 
 my first sermon, which was on Paul’s 
 
 words, “‘ So as much as lieth in me I am ready to 
 preach the gospel to you that are in Rome also.” 
 
 Our reception was very cordial, not only by the 
 Madison Avenue people, but by ministers and peo- 
 ple of other churches. 
 
 It was not long, however, before I discovered 
 that the church was hemmed in by serious difficul- 
 ties. The building was discouragingly capacious. 
 The neighborhood was decidedly overchurched, 
 and the uptown movement had already begun. 
 We had a large and flourishing mission on the 
 East Side. That gave an outlet for the activities 
 of the people, and enabled us somewhat to reach a 
 class which could not be attracted to the fashion- 
 ably placed building, with high pew rents, on Madi- 
 son Avenue. There was a gradual growth, but no 
 such advance as I had been used to in the West. I 
 soon learned, also, that a New York pastor must 
 do a good many different things 1f he would suc- 
 ceed. Preaching and visiting were not sufficient. 
 
 109 
 
110 CHARLES LEMUEL THOMPSON 
 
 The city was clamorous for all sorts of help, and 
 all good men must take a hand. 
 
 After being at work only a short time, I was 
 elected a member of the Board of Church Erection. 
 A few months later, as a vacancy occurred in the 
 Board of Home Missions, my membership was 
 transferred to that body. This chiefly because my 
 long ministry in the West gave me first hand 
 knowledge of missionary needs and problems. 
 
 As I was still moderator of the General As- 
 sembly many calls came to me for special services 
 outside of my own parish. In the spring the As- 
 sembly of 1889 met in Dr. Crosby’s church. I 
 preached the opening sermon, venturing to plead 
 for a church life that was more than doctrine on 
 the one hand, or ecclesiastical life on the other. It 
 was a satisfaction to have so conservative a scholar, 
 and acute a critic as Dr. W. G. T. Shedd say, “It 
 was a noble sermon.” I had the pleasure of pass- 
 ing the gavel to my successor, Dr. William C. Rob- 
 erts, whom nine years later I followed in the Home 
 
 Board. 
 
 About this time, the ecclesiastical air became 
 cloudy over the liberal tendencies appearing in the 
 Church. It may be proper here to say that for 
 years my mind was somewhat veering away from 
 the severe theology I had learned from my great 
 teacher, Dr. Charles Hodge. By no means was I 
 tempted to let go any of the fundamentals of the 
 
NEW YORK 111 
 
 Christian faith. Rather I seemed to see them in 
 better perspective, in their wider relation to the 
 times, and what I conceived to be their spiritual 
 import. Many years before, I had taken the side 
 of David Swing in his trial before the Chicago 
 Presbytery. Gradually through the years I was 
 conscious of reading the doctrines in a new light. 
 So when the Briggs case came to the public atten- 
 tion, and soon to the church courts, while by no 
 means in full sympathy with the professor’s views, 
 I definitely lined up with those who were opposed 
 to the heresy trial. 
 
 When the General Assembly met in Portland, 
 Oregon, in 1892, I was appointed by the Presbytery 
 of New York as one of those to defend its action. 
 To give an idea of my general attitude at that time, 
 I here quote the concluding paragraph of my 
 address: 
 
 “Tn our present preoccupation in the great con- 
 test against the world and the devil, forced upon 
 us in New York, we may not have been quick 
 enough to perceive the demands of ecclesiastical 
 law, or the eminence of points of procedure. But 
 we have tried to be true to the truth as it is in 
 Jesus, and for this we demand acknowledgment. 
 Perhaps we should have pursued Dr. Briggs with a 
 holier alacrity. Perhaps in our love of liberty, and 
 peace our orthodoxy has not been keen enough. 
 
 But when you tell us we have been slow to 
 start a heresy trial, remember it has been only be- 
 
112 CHARLES LEMUEL THOMPSON 
 
 cause we have given heed to the almost dying words 
 of Henry Jackson van Dyke, ‘If we cannot have 
 liberty and orthodoxy, we choose liberty.’ But the 
 Presbyterian Church has never felt the necessity of 
 such choice. Remote be the day when it shall.” 
 
 The time was now approaching when it became 
 evident that, for tle success of our work, some 
 changes of church service would be required. Un- 
 der the pressure of populations and of business our 
 constituency was rapidly changing. Many of our 
 families were moving up town or out into the sub- 
 urbs. A thoughtful prevision made it evident 
 that if we were to maintain our work in full 
 prosperity we must adapt ourselves to the new 
 conditions. 
 
 It was about this time that movements looking 
 to more democracy in church work, and more 
 cooperation among churches began to appear. 
 Institutional churches, as they were somewhat in- 
 felicitously called, were founded in Boston, Hart- 
 ford and other cities. There was a growing 
 feeling in many centers that new methods for 
 reaching the unchurched masses must be devised, 
 if we would not see indifference amounting to prac- 
 tical infidelity sweeping them away from all share 
 in any form of Christianity. 
 
 I decided to take advantage of this movement to 
 repeat the experiment that had been found so suc- 
 cessful so many years ago in the First Church of 
 
NEW YORK rg 
 
 Cincinnati. Calling my church officers for a con- 
 ference, together we considered the situation. On 
 the East Side, only a few blocks from us, there was | 
 a large unchurched population. West of us, in the 
 fashionable part of the city there was an abundance 
 of churches following the old lines of work. Our 
 chance lay in opening our church doors wide, and 
 by multiplied agencies, seeking to bring into them 
 some of the multitude who were sheep without a 
 shepherd. Free pews were an essential part of 
 this program. 
 
 I outlined a carefully prepared plan, calling for 
 a large venture of faith and a good deal of money. 
 While the officers hesitated to make the plunge, 
 there was one man who was enthusiastic about the 
 plan. Gideon Fountain offered five thousand dol- 
 lars to start the work on the new lines. His en- 
 thusiasm was contagious and it was unanimously 
 decided to surrender pew rents, and to open our 
 pew doors to all comers. 
 
 To secure the finances, the weekly envelope sys- 
 tem was adopted and was generously supported. 
 Mr. Henry Southworth, one of our men who had 
 leisure, undertook the supervision of it, and its suc- 
 cess was largely due to his fidelity. 
 
 Our plans included not only free pews, but daily 
 activity of various kinds in a genuine desire to fill 
 the needs of the passing multitudes. We secured 
 several assistants, among them the Rev. George W. 
 Mead, a young man of decided ability and devo- 
 
114 CHARLES LEMUEL THOMPSON 
 
 tion. The Rev. Robert Barbour, believing heartily 
 in that form of church life, volunteered his service 
 and for years was a valued helper. 
 
 The movement toward such methods in other 
 cities acted favorably on our plans. Following the 
 new lines, the Free Church experiment was a 
 marked success, and’ received wide commendation 
 in the city and throughout the country. In a few 
 years after my resignation, the church reverted to 
 the pew system. Recently, however, under the 
 splendid leadership of Dr. Henry Sloane Coffin, it 
 has again become a free church and is now one of 
 the strongest in the city. 
 
 As I was much interested in the Free Church 
 movement, a brief account of its growth may be 
 given here. In March, 1894, Dr. E. B. Sanford 
 came to my study to confer on new lines of church 
 work. As he was leaving, I called him back and 
 asked him whether he would not give his time to 
 such work. He was deeply interested. The result 
 was a conference in my study at which were pres- 
 ent Dr. Sanford, Dr. Frank Mason North, of the 
 Methodist Church, the Rev. Charles A. Dickinson, 
 of Berkeley Temple in Boston, Dr. Josiah Strong, 
 at that time secretary of the Evangelical Alliance, 
 and a few others. 
 
 That meeting provisionally adopted the platform 
 of “ The Open and Institutional Church League.” 
 In October of the same year the organization was 
 
NEW YORK 115 
 
 completed at a meeting held in Berkeley Temple, in 
 Boston. In the spring of 1895 another meeting 
 was held in the Holland Memorial Church, of 
 Philadelphia, when Dr. Sanford was elected secre- 
 tary, and I became president. The name of one of 
 our strong supporters should here be mentioned, 
 Robert C. Ogden. He was an ardent advocate of 
 the Free Church, and gave it constant support. 
 We were brought into close relations later when he 
 became a member of the Board of Home Missions, 
 and so continued until his death. 
 
 In my address in Philadelphia, after stating my 
 conviction that the platform we had adopted was in 
 harmony with the New Testament principles in its 
 aim to save all men by all means, abolishing so far 
 as possible the distinction between the religious and 
 the secular, and sanctifying all days and all means 
 to the great end of saving the world for Christ, I 
 closed with these words: 
 
 “ Organic ecclesiastical unity we may hold as a 
 dream of the future, or dismiss it with the interro- 
 gation, ‘Is it desirable?’ But Christian unity as a 
 spiritual reality, and as a practical factor in bring- 
 ing the denominations into federative relations 
 through which they can work out the problems of 
 Christian service in city and country, without the 
 present waste of forces—who that loves the king- 
 dom of our common Lord can but desire and long 
 to see it consummated? It is coming, and in its 
 
116 CHARLES LEMUEL THOMPSON 
 
 coming I believe the Open and Institutional Church 
 League, seeking to exalt the work and the mission 
 of Christ in the life of the Church, is destined by 
 the favor of God to act an important part.” 
 
 Presently the new organization felt the need of 
 an organ to express and advance its ideas. So we 
 began the publication of “The Open Church,” a 
 magazine of applied Christianity. Dr. Sanford 
 was the editor. With him were associated Dr. 
 North, Leighton Williams, Dr. John P. Peters and 
 myself. 
 
 Then came the idea of a national federation of 
 churches, and a letter suggesting that was sent to 
 leading ministers throughout the country. The re- 
 sponse was hearty. The Open Church League and 
 the city Federation united in a call to a conference 
 in New York on December 3, 1899. William E. 
 Dodge, then president of the Evangelical Alliance, 
 presided. In 1901, the plans matured in the or- 
 ganization of the National Federation of Churches, 
 in Philadelphia. In the preceding year a committee 
 was formed in New York, of which I was chair- 
 man, to present, in Philadelphia, a plan for the na- 
 tional organization. ‘This report was put in the 
 hands of a special and widely representative com- 
 mittee, of which also I was chairman. On it were 
 such men as Dr. H. H. Stebbins, of Rochester; Dr. 
 Frank Mason North, of New York; Dr. W. D. 
 Hulbert, of Cleveland, and J. Cleveland Cady, of 
 
NEW YORK 117 
 
 New York. The adoption of the final report of 
 this committee completed the organization. My 
 friend, Dr. Sanford, was made general secretary, 
 as was proper, for he had more to do with the 
 formation of the plans then consummated than any 
 other man. 
 
 Requests were sent out from the Federation to 
 denominational bodies to appoint delegates to a 
 national conference, and so came about the great 
 Inter-Church Conference on Federation which was 
 
 held in New York in November, 1905. 
 
 I count it one of the honors of my life that with 
 eleven others of various denominations, I had the 
 privilege of signing that call. It was also my 
 privilege to welcome the delegates on behalf of 
 the National Federation of Churches, before 
 one of the most representative Christian bodies 
 that ever convened in this country. As it was ac- 
 counted an important message, I give the closing 
 paragraphs: 
 
 “The world may discount our ethics, as long it 
 has. It may sneer at our brotherhood, and call it 
 our ‘closed shop.’ But it will bow before the 
 majesty of hearts fused together in the glow of a 
 common passion for a living and conquering Re- 
 deemer, the inspiration of a common service for 
 humanity. Christ said, ‘When My disciples are 
 together the world will believe.’ His first dis- 
 ciples proved it. They got together in the deepest 
 
118 CHARLES LEMUEL THOMPSON 
 
 places of their souls, and the world, awed and con- 
 senting, believed. Now what the world needs is 
 faith in God, not primarily a balm for its sorrows, 
 a healing for its sores. It needs a faith which 
 shall make it triumph over sorrows and pains, a 
 hope which shall open the way through human 
 storms, as the sun at eventide transforms the clouds 
 to opening curtains. What union in prayer did for 
 the first disciples it will do till the last syllable of 
 recorded time. 
 
 “ Behold a path of Federation that will answer 
 Christ’s prayer! Then all the rest will come as an 
 inevitable sequence. We will know then how to 
 hold our denominational pride in proper subjection 
 to the welfare of the Kingdom. We will know 
 how to realize brotherhood in a social and mission- 
 ary service whose only horizon is the rim of the 
 world. Then will come a campaign of world- 
 conquest at whose summit there may even be a 
 complete reconstruction of all the denominational- 
 ism of the present—such a blending of banners that 
 only an omniscent eye can discern the original 
 constituents. ? 
 
 “You remember the story of the battle of 
 Lookout Mountain? As the regiments from 
 widely-sundered states pressed toward the top they 
 steadily and unconsciously approached each other. 
 The boys from New England, from New York, 
 from Ohio and Wisconsin forced their way up the 
 perilous heights under their own flags—but—all 
 
NEW YORK 119 
 
 federated for the common cause—under one plan 
 and one commander. Heart beat with heart though 
 they could neither see each other’s colors nor hear 
 each other’s drums. When the clouds of battle 
 lifted at the top, it was apparent that they were 
 shoulder to shoulder, and their banners fluttered in 
 intermingling folds in the light of a common 
 victory. 
 
 “And do you not hear it—the tramp of gather- 
 ing hosts? They do not quite discern each other. 
 But a common necessity binds them—a common 
 commission urges them—a common hope inspires 
 them. That their steps are accordant does not mat- 
 ter—or their uniforms the same, is of no account. 
 They love the one Lord—cherish the one faith— 
 bow to the one baptism. And the day of their 
 victory is coming! They will know it when 
 shoulder presses shoulder, and banner twines with 
 banner. They will know it, and the world will 
 know it—know it—and believe! ”’ 
 
 Following the organization of the National Fed- 
 eration, there arose in the minds of the Church 
 everywhere a desire for a more authorized body of 
 Christian workers through whom the cause of fed- 
 eration might find more adequate expression. So 
 gradually came about the Federal Council of the 
 Churches of Christ in America. It was organized 
 in Philadelphia, December 2-8, 1908. This Council 
 has so largely passed into the history of our coun- 
 
120 CHARLES LEMUEL THOMPSON 
 
 try as an expression of the larger, broader thought 
 of our common Christianity that I need not dwell 
 upon it in detail. Only a few years old, it gives 
 promise of uniting Christian forces as they have 
 never been united before. I have watched its 
 growth with profound interest, and am serving on 
 several of its committees. 
 
 Perhaps now while I am talking of the closer 
 relations of Christians and churches with one an- 
 other, is a good time to speak of the evolution of 
 my religious and theological thought, for the for- 
 mer has had a good deal to do with the latter. 
 
 The mingling with many denominations has 
 widened my thoughts. ‘Theological changes, how- 
 ever, antedated this wider fellowship. I was 
 brought up in the strictest Presbyterian doctrines. 
 In Pennsylvania, my mother was a member of the 
 very conservative German Reformed Church. In 
 Wisconsin she, and later my father, became mem- 
 bers of the Presbyterian Church. I have spoken 
 of those pioneer missionaries who laid the foun- 
 dations of our Church in the new state. They were 
 noble men, and as was almost inevitable in those 
 early days, they were all conservative men. Any 
 other than conservative thought had scarce touched 
 the Church in the later fifties. Then I went to 
 Princeton and sat at the feet of the Hodges. I ac- 
 cepted their theology, and when I left the seminary 
 I preached it. I am not conscious of feeling any 
 
NEW YORK 121 
 
 reaction against it for a decade or more. But, as 
 gradual as the approach of daylight, there came 
 across my mind the feeling that I could not fully 
 preach that theology. As, however, I was never a 
 doctrinal preacher it troubled me but little. I sim- 
 ply put Hodge and Shedd further back on my 
 shelves, and gave myself to practical sermonizing, 
 where their presence was not felt. 
 
 I cannot now recall any time when I could say, 
 “‘T now no longer accept the logic of predestination, 
 limited atonement, and the other doctrines bound 
 into a system with steel bands of logic.”’ And yet 
 gradually there arose within me a protest against 
 many of the views I had once accepted without 
 hesitation. The new-school theology was much to 
 my liking. In Pittsburgh I had become the pastor 
 of a new-school church. I also came to a more 
 brotherly view of other denominations. More than 
 that, I was not sure that all of Calvinism was 
 sound, and all of Arminianism was unsound. More 
 than that, while I held, and hold firmly to the divin- 
 ity of our Lord and all that it implies, I was not 
 quite so sure that all Unitarians were going to be 
 damned. 
 
 As I became intimate with many good people of 
 denominations which were theologically remote 
 from Presbyterianism, I conceived and attained a 
 liking for likable people somewhat irrespective of 
 their theology. I am reminded here (in illustra- 
 tion) of the experience of my friend, Dr. Henry 
 
- 122 CHARLES LEMUEL THOMPSON 
 
 M. Field, who, when his paper, “ The Evangelist,” 
 got into deep water, appealed for help to a wealthy 
 man, who, however, was not a professing Chris- 
 tian. The help was given in such unexpected 
 largeness that Dr. Field was moved to throw his 
 arms around his benefactor, and to say, 
 
 “ Mr. Blank, I don’t know where you are going 
 when you die, but I want to go where you go.” 
 
 If any one should care to ask me today, “ What 
 is your theology now?’ I am afraid I should be 
 obliged to answer, It is not a well articulated system 
 at all. If I think of it as a chain, there are missing 
 links. Further, I do not know as much about the 
 mysteries of divine revelation as once I knew. I 
 have sometimes tried to elucidate the prophecies of 
 the Old Testament, have even tried to explore the 
 revelation of St. John. I do so no longer. I get 
 gleams and flashes of light from all parts of the 
 Bible, but there are many dark stretches. And I 
 am content to wait. “I stretch lame hands of 
 halt toh 
 
 But faith abides. I am surer every day of the 
 Fatherhood of God, of the sufficient and efficient 
 sacrifice of Christ, of the value of Christian char- 
 acter, the power of the Gospel to save men, the 
 final award and the blessedness eternal of all who 
 believe. For much that is beyond and between— 
 I wait. 
 
IX 
 THE SECRETARYSHIP 
 
SUNRISE ON THE BAY, 
 
 The last white star has slipped its ray 
 Within its tent of blue; 
 
 The great sun sends the level day 
 Along the world anew; 
 
 So, Lord, within Thy larger will 
 My trembling will would hide, 
 
 And in Thy glory, deep and still, 
 Invisible abide. 
 
 See Sunrise lay her freshened face 
 Across the ropes and spars, 
 
 As Hope each day with fairer face 
 Lighis up her prison bars. 
 
 Creep the white sands to bending waves, 
 That shake their plumes of spray; 
 
 So, Lord, my life before Thee craves 
 For baptisms day by day. 
 
 Laughs the great ocean round the keel, 
 Busy the yards and deck; 
 
 The landlocked crafts the ttde-wave feel, 
 White wings the blue fields fleck; 
 
 So, Lord, my spirit waits for Thee, 
 Oh, wave of glory, come! 
 
 One throb of love shall set me free, 
 One breath shall waft me home. 
 
IX 
 THE SECRETARYSHIP 
 
 URING the years of my pastorate in New 
 York I was twice approached to consider 
 educational work as president of western 
 colleges, but I felt constrained to decline. I felt 
 my work in Madison Avenue was not done, and 
 that whatever gifts I had lay rather in the line of 
 pulpit and pastoral work. At any rate I had no 
 such experience as would justify me in thinking I 
 would be a success in educational lines. 
 
 I had written a few books, and published a vol- 
 ume of verse, but that did not seem to fit me to 
 be a college president. It did, however, bring me 
 into the membership of the Authors’ Club, with 
 its pleasant associations, and its famous Thurs- 
 day night dinners, held in their rooms in Car- 
 negie Hall. 
 
 Authors as a rule are too poor to afford club 
 rooms in so expensive a location, but Mr. Carnegie 
 was an honored member of the club, and he not 
 only gave them the rooms during his lifetime but 
 has generously provided for them since his death. 
 
 I recall an amusing incident at the club on one of 
 
 125 
 
126 CHARLES LEMUEL THOMPSON 
 
 their reception days. I was introduced to someone 
 as Mr. Murray, but in the crowd it did not seem 
 necessary that I should correct the mistake, so after 
 an exchange of courtesies, I moved away, but the 
 stranger kept bringing up people, and introducing 
 me as Mr. Murray, till I went in disgust to an old 
 club member, and said, “ Who on earth is Murray? 
 There’s a fellow here who keeps calling me Murray, 
 and bringing people up all the time.” 
 
 He looked at me, and said, ‘ Why, it’s true.” 
 
 ‘“What’s true?” I persisted. 
 
 “Why it’s David Christie Murray, the cele- 
 brated Englishman. You do look like him.” 
 
 Just then I saw my tormentor approaching with 
 more people in tow. I promptly fled, without wait- 
 ing for refreshments or anything else. 
 
 Which incident shows that it is not well to 
 go under an assumed name, even at a crowded 
 reception. 
 
 After ten years of service in my church, a call 
 came to me which interested me profoundly. This 
 brings me to what I have ventured to think is my 
 most important service in the Kingdom of God. 
 As already intimated, I had been a member of the 
 Board of Home Missions since 1888. During that 
 time the Board had two, sometimes three, secre- 
 taries. For sufficient reasons, in 1898, it decided 
 on a radical change of administration, namely, in- 
 stead of several secretaries, to have only one, in 
 
THE SECRETARYSHIP 127 
 
 whose hands the responsibility for administration 
 should be lodged. Dr. W. C. Roberts and Dr. D. 
 J. McMillan therefore resigned. 
 
 One evening as we were going out to dinner, I 
 was surprised to receive a letter from John E. Par- 
 sons, E'sq., chairman of the committee to select a 
 secretary, inquiring whether I would consider an 
 election to the vacant place. I pocketed the letter, 
 and after meditating for the following day, wrote 
 declining the proffered position. I carried that let- 
 ter around for a few hours, however, and during 
 those few hours I meditated. Was I flying in the 
 face of Providence? I was a western man, was it 
 for this I had come East? The longer I thought 
 the more uncertain I became. We talked it over in 
 the family with the result that I destroyed that 
 letter and wrote another, asking for time that I 
 might give it calm and full consideration. 
 
 On many accounts I was loath to give up my 
 church, and especially its new form of work. On 
 the other hand, I saw in the Home Board a chance 
 for national work. It was a wider sphere than I 
 had dreamed of. I knew its technique, having 
 served on it for ten years. I also knew the field, 
 from my long residence in the West. So at last, 
 after much thought and prayer, I accepted the elec- 
 tion. I continued as supply for my pulpit for a 
 few months, but began my Home Board duties on 
 the first of March, 1898. 
 
 I confess that from the first the proposition that 
 
128 CHARLES LEMUEL THOMPSON 
 
 I should undertake the reorganization of the Board 
 appealed to me very strongly. I was myself the child 
 of Home Missions. When I began to preach, I was 
 first of all a home missionary. It was, therefore, 
 natural that after more than a quarter of a century, 
 I should feel the drawing toward that service. 
 
 I began my task, not without a realization of its 
 difficulties. ‘The Board had a debt of nearly two 
 hundred thousand dollars. But far more serious 
 than that was the fact that the Briggs trial had 
 drawn lines which had not been obliterated. There 
 were many Presbyterians who had not forgotten 
 the fact that in that trial, | had stood for a larger 
 liberty than the conservative wing of the Church 
 was willing to concede. 
 
 Two of the church papers were in doubt of me. 
 One of them said, “ Never before had the election 
 of any secretary for any board created such sur- 
 prise or been the subject of such general condem- 
 nation by pastors and private members of the 
 church.” Another paper from the same city quoted 
 the remark, and added that it had examined the 
 leading Presbyterian journals of the country and 
 had found no adverse criticism in any of them. It 
 then made several quotations to sustain its conten- 
 tion. Asa matter of fact some forty papers, secu- 
 lar and religious, gave it large publicity, and in 
 every case favorable, with but two or three unim- 
 portant exceptions. 
 
THE SECRETARYSHIP 129 
 
 My difficulties were manifest and manifold, but 
 I went at my work with energy and some courage. 
 The Board having given me a free hand, I was con- 
 scious of strong backing. The membership of the 
 Board consisted of able men. John S. Kennedy, 
 John Crosby Brown, John FE. Parsons, and Robert 
 C. Ogden were among the laymen. They and pas- 
 tors of the leading churches, with Dr. John Hall 
 as president, constituted a body that could be 
 relied upon. 
 
 The meeting of the General Assembly was near; 
 my first endeavor, therefore, was to prepare for 
 that important occasion. It was intimated that 
 some of the conservatives would oppose my confir- 
 mation. At the Assembly, there were evidences of 
 such a plan. My first address, therefore, was 
 awaited with peculiar interest. I prepared it care- 
 fully. When I rose to speak a suggestive hush 
 came over the great audience in the auditorium at 
 Winona. Friends and foes were waiting. The 
 Lord gave me unusual freedom. I was conscious 
 after the first few sentences that the audience 
 was with me. So I went on joyfully. When I 
 closed, the response was so hearty that if there 
 were any there who opposed me they decided 
 that silence was the better policy. I heard no 
 more of the criticism, and went home to my task, 
 conscious that I had made no mistake in entering 
 upon it. | 
 
130 CHARLES LEMUEL THOMPSON 
 
 I quote a few sentences from my address as the 
 keynote to the great cause: 
 
 “The work is definite and easily stated. Our 
 country for Christ! It appeals at once to our patriot- 
 ism and our religion. If ever divine Providence set 
 a land apart for high uses and a noble destiny, this 
 land has been so set apart. It belongs to God. Its 
 origin contains its manifest destiny. Into its begin- 
 nings were put the faith and struggles of those who, 
 in every country, fought for freedom. The Genevese 
 Republic is incarnated fully first not in Switzerland 
 but in the United States. The fight for liberty begun 
 in brave little Holland has been continued here. The 
 Huguenots, who three centuries ago fled from France, 
 found homes along our eastern coast. John Knox’s 
 cry for the salvation of Scotland is repeated on behalt 
 of our country by the Scotch and the Irish, who from 
 the Carolinas to the Tennessee mountains are keep- 
 ing their faith sternly “ with their covenant and with 
 their country.” So into the iron of our blood has 
 passed the inheritance of the truth which has flushed 
 the centuries of the old world, and will give vigor and 
 tone to the new centuries of the new world.” 
 
 I came home from the Assembly in company 
 with Dr. John Dixon, pastor of the First Church 
 of Trenton. He had been chairman of the com- 
 mittee of the Assembly before which came the mat- 
 ters connected with the Board, and was therefore 
 fully cognizant of its affairs. Some of the criti- 
 cisms of the Board came before him and were very 
 skilfully handled. It was, therefore, a pleasure to 
 
THE SECRETARYSHIP ~ 131 
 
 have the opportunity of getting acquainted with 
 him. I found him to be a gentleman of the finest 
 type, pure-minded and high-minded. It was evi- 
 dent from the very beginning of my labors that 
 there must be at least one assistant secretary. On 
 this journey home I conferred with Dr. Dixon on 
 this matter, and asked him to think over his ac- 
 quaintances if perchance he might light on some 
 one whom he could commend to me as fitted for 
 the place that was waiting. 
 
 A few weeks later I asked him to come to my 
 office, and then suggested that in my judgment, he 
 was the man I was seeking. Somewhat humor- 
 ously, I continued: “ Frankly, I have two objec- 
 tions to you. First, I was looking for a young 
 man, and you are not so very far below my own 
 age. Second, you have long been at the head of 
 an important organization. Unfortunately, the 
 Board has decided that there should be but one 
 head to the work of the Board. I fear the adjust- 
 ment might not be readily made.” 
 
 His reply was characteristic of the man. Plead- 
 ing guilty to the matter of years which admitted 
 no discussion, after some reflection and a few 
 questions, he said, “I know exactly what is im- 
 plied in this position, if you want me I am at your 
 service.” : 
 
 Expressing my intense gratification, I added: 
 “There are many reasons why I am happy in your 
 willingness to join me. You have a certain fitness 
 
132 CHARLES LEMUEL THOMPSON 
 
 which you may not have suspected. I am accused 
 of being a liberal, you are known to be a moss- 
 back, so between the two there may be a balance to 
 keep the thing from tipping over.” 
 
 So it was arranged that I should present his name 
 to the Board, and he was unanimously elected. 
 When I asked him what salary he would expect, his 
 characteristic reply was, “ Anything that is less 
 than yours,” 
 
 After twenty-four years I can joyfully testify 
 that there never was a more harmonious partner- 
 ship. And the praise for it is chiefly due to John 
 Dixon, whom I have delighted to name the “ Apos- 
 tle John.” This harmony is the more remarkable 
 because of the sharp differences between us. He is 
 an iron-clad conservative, (though in these latter 
 days, I think he has often and seriously questioned 
 his company). As I am increasingly a liberal, the 
 harmony is due to most unusually amiable quali- 
 ties on his part. He knows how to hold doggedly 
 to his convictions, while giving the other fellow the 
 same privilege. So we achieved a rare friendship 
 which has survived differences of temperament and 
 mental attitudes, and of relations to each other, not 
 always easily kept serene. Many a time I would 
 have liked to fight him, but his sweetness forbade 
 it. I have no doubt that his calm and judicial mind 
 saved me from many mistakes to which my more 
 emotional temperament rendered me liable. 
 
 The treasurer of the Board, Harvey Church 
 
THE SECRETARYSHIP 133 
 
 Olin, was also a valued officer. When Mr. Eaton, 
 who had been a faithful treasurer for many years, 
 was called to his reward, I suggested the name of 
 my brother-in-law, Mr. Olin, who was at that time 
 auditor of the Chicago Stock Yard Company. 
 This was in 1897, a year before I became secre- 
 tary. He accepted the position and until his final 
 illness, in 1918, was accounted an ideal treasurer-— 
 competent, devoted and popular alike in the Board 
 and on the field. 
 
 Miss Edith Grier Long was another strong 
 helper in my work. She had been my assistant in 
 the Madison Avenue Church, and when elected to 
 my new position I asked her to be my personal 
 secretary. She accepted my call, and for all the 
 time of my secretaryship was an invaluable helper. 
 She not only had charge of my correspondence, 
 conducting much of it with rare tact and wisdom, 
 but also kept the minutes of the office conferences, 
 and so was in full knowledge of all phases of the 
 work, and able to be an intelligent counsellor. 
 When I resigned, she was chosen as general secre- 
 tary of the Woman’s Board. 
 
 When I assumed charge of the work and was 
 confronted by the debt which for those days was 
 staggeringly large, $167,839, my first concern 
 was to get that debt out of the way. Dr. Dixon was 
 placed in special charge of this endeavor. By many 
 letters and by personal appeals nearly $100,000 was 
 
134 CHARLES LEMUEL THOMPSON 
 
 raised. About $80,000 remained, which we felt 
 must be secured before the Assembly of 1899. 
 
 Dr. Richard $. Holmes, of Pittsburgh, took a 
 keen interest in the movement, and suggested that 
 the larger cities be approached for individuals or 
 churches agreeing to give one hundred dollars each. 
 To set the ball rolling a meeting of representatives 
 from many cities was called at the home of our 
 president, Dr. D. Stuart Dodge. As the home of 
 his honored father, William E. Dodge, it had been 
 the center where many noble philanthropic and re- 
 ligious enterprises were launched. Though the 
 night was the stormiest of the winter, our gather- 
 ing was large and readily caught the spirit of the 
 place, and the enthusiasm of the cause. When we 
 separated we felt that the work was practically 
 done. And so it proved to be. Dr. Holmes threw 
 himself into the task with his usual vigor, giving 
 much time to it, and with his splendid cooperation 
 before the Assembly convened the entire debt was 
 paid. The Home Board did not have another debt 
 for fifteen years. 
 
 A little later than this, to create interest in cer- 
 tain expansions of the work, we decided on a great 
 public meeting in Carnegie Hall, and to make sure 
 of much interest, to invite Theodore Roosevelt, at 
 that time President of the United States. Dr. 
 Dodge and I called on him at the White House and 
 urged our invitation. He gave us his hearty “ De- 
 
THE SECRETARYSHIP 135 
 
 lighted-to-see-you,” and then a prompt dismissal. 
 He had no time to go to New York to make a 
 speech. Still determined on governmental repre- 
 sentation at our meeting, we sought the Secretary 
 of State, John Hay. He drew up chairs and gave 
 the impression of having plenty of time, but he, 
 too, begged to be excused. 
 
 “T am not the orator of the administration,” he 
 said. ‘“‘ The President should go, and I will per- 
 sonally bring the matter to his attention.” 
 
 We went home and were followed in a few days 
 by a letter from Mr. Hay telling us that his inter- 
 cession on our behalf had been in vain. 
 
 I meditated a few days, and then took the train 
 for Washington to try again. A committee of our 
 Assembly was in session there. I went to them and 
 said I was going to the White House and wanted 
 their backing. They adjourned the committee 
 meeting, and soon we were again inviting the 
 President. 
 
 Again he said, “ I have no time.” 
 
 I said, “ Mr. President, you can leave here after 
 lunch and be back here to breakfast.” 
 
 “That is not much time, but I should have to 
 prepare.”’ | 
 
 I replied that we would like to hear him for an 
 hour, but that ten minutes would suffice, knowing 
 very well that if we got him for ten minutes we 
 would be sure of half an hour at least. At this 
 point, Dr. Samuel J. Nicolls said, “ Mr. President, 
 
136 CHARLES LEMUEL THOMPSON 
 
 when Mr. Cleveland was President, he went to Car- 
 negie Hall for such an occasion, and the result was 
 he was elected for a second term.” 
 
 That nearly broke up the meeting. Mr. Roose- 
 velt was shaken with laughter, and had evidently 
 weakened. 
 
 “Well,” he said, “send me a note giving date 
 and subject and I will see.’’ 
 
 He did see, and gave a magnetic address which 
 made the occasion a pronounced success. 
 
Xx 
 EXPANSION 
 
SENTINEL ROCKS. 
 
 Oh! sentinel rocks of the Yellowstone, 
 
 Shattered and splintered and splendid still, 
 Decked in the'robes. ye have caught from the sun, 
 Colors the painter had ne’er looked upon, 
 
 What are the secrets within you that thrill, 
 
 Oh! Sentinel rocks of the Yellowstone? 
 
 Oh! royal-robed rocks of the Yellowstone— 
 Warders of ages, that come and go— 
 When the glacier’s plowshare tossed you high 
 In fanciful battlements far to the sky, 
 What artist followed to garnish you so, 
 Oh! royal-robed rocks of the Yellowstone? 
 
 Oh! lonely rocks of the Yellowstone, 
 Catching the centuries’ solar fire, 
 Basking in beams of the solemn night, 
 Palls ever the flash of the eagle’s flight? 
 Does the roar of the cataract ever tire, 
 Oh! lonely rocks of the Yellowstone? 
 
 Oh! prophet rocks of the Yellowstone, 
 With your wild prismatic light aglow, 
 
 Ye hint the walls of eternal days 
 
 Where onyx and jasper and gold will blaze, 
 And the river of life will how— 
 
 Oh! prophet rocks of the Yellowstone! 
 
Xx 
 EXPANSION 
 
 ROM this time on new phases of our work 
 developed rapidly. The first was the occu- 
 pation of Porto Rico by the American 
 
 Army in 1899, and by the advance line of our 
 missionary service for the beautiful island. It was 
 in that same year that secretaries of four Boards 
 (Baptist, Congregational, Methodist, and Presby- 
 terian) met in my office to outline plans for co- 
 operative advance, which, by the way, has been the 
 glory of our Porto Rican work. We agreed to 
 moderate denominational zeal, to go into the island 
 as a band of brethren to prove to the million Roman 
 Catholics the essential unity of the Protestant 
 forces. We divided the island into four sections, 
 each Board assuming responsibility for one of the 
 sections. That given to the Presbyterians was the 
 western end of the island, the city of San Juan 
 being open to all. We sent a declaration of our 
 principles and policy to Porto Rico. It was widely 
 distributed and gave us easy access to people who 
 half-consciously were longing for freedom from 
 the Spanish rule and all that it implied. 
 
 Since that first year several other denominations 
 have gone to the island. But the ideals of comity 
 
 139 
 
140 CHARLES LEMUEL THOMPSON 
 
 and cooperation set by those early missionaries 
 have never been forgotten. Porto Rico is still the 
 home of united Protestantism. 
 
 Our work in Cuba was begun in 1901. To open 
 it we called Dr. J. Milton Greene from Porto Rico, 
 where he had made a good beginning, having or- 
 ganized a church and*gathered a large congregation 
 ina building erected by the Home Board. He soon 
 established a center for his work in a favorable 
 location in Havana. In February, 1902, he called 
 a conference of evangelical workers which laid the 
 basis for that fine cooperation which has charac- 
 terized Cuba as it has Porto Rico. 
 
 Conditions in Alaska had been changing some- 
 what since the rush for its gold mines had brought 
 in an ever increasing white population. New op- 
 portunities were opening on every hand, so in the 
 summer of 1900 in order to familiarize myself 
 somewhat with that country, I made the voyage to 
 Alaska. My wife accompanied me, and I was 
 fortunate in finding several young missionaries to 
 go with us, and to dedicate their lives to that far 
 off frozen region. I have since many times sug- 
 gested to people longing for a vacation at once 
 stimulating and restful to take ship for Alaska. As 
 to scenery, there is nothing in North America to 
 compare with it. High mountains, wooded to the 
 water’s edge, waterfalls tumbling down their sides, 
 occasional glaciers with tiny icebergs blue as 
 
EXPANSION 141 
 
 sapphire floating in the bays at their feet make the 
 trip a constant delight. The boat winds its way 
 through the islands in an inland passage nearly all 
 the way, which makes it ideal for poor sailors (of 
 whom at that time I was one). Two of our num- 
 ber, the Rev. and Mrs. J. W. Kirk, were destined 
 to open a new station far down the banks of the 
 Yukon. We went with them from Skagway on the 
 new railway up over the famous White Pass. 
 
 On the summit the party had to separate, we to 
 return, they to go on to their lonely station. Then 
 for the first time, Mrs. Kirk, who had been all 
 bravery and good cheer, broke down. With tears 
 she turned from us and with her husband faced the 
 unknown land and future. Her term of service 
 was brief. She had time to make her home a center 
 for the boys from the mines. They gathered 
 around her piano in the log cabin and sang the 
 songs that carried them back to the Sunday schools 
 and homes far away. Ina few years Mr. and Mrs. 
 Kirk were compelled to return to the States for a 
 time, and while there she was called to the home 
 above. When letters came from the camp, from the 
 boys whose hearts she had touched, it was evident 
 her life there had not been in vain. They told of 
 what she had been to the boys. Many of them in 
 heart-moving terms declared life was a better and 
 sweeter thing since she had been with them. Such 
 are the often unknown rewards of missionary 
 service. 
 
142 CHARLES LEMUEL THOMPSON 
 
 We visited nearly all the stations in Southeastern 
 Alaska. Our voyage to Sitka had one thrilling ex- 
 perience. We went to see the great Muir Glacier, 
 one of the wonders of that western world. It was 
 a still, foggy day. The captain decided to take us 
 nearer than usual. As the day was so quiet, he 
 thought there would-be no danger. So he pushed 
 the boat to within perhaps a quarter of a mile of 
 the gigantic wall of ice—a mile wide and three hun- 
 dred feet high. As we were enjoying the sight, 
 there came a sudden volley as of musketry firing 
 along the entire line. Then an awful crash and a 
 large part of that glittering wall came crashing 
 into the sea. It sank, and when it rose it seemed as 
 if a glorious cathedral with domes and spires were 
 rising out of the waves. We were appalled by the 
 grandeur. But other feelings seized the captain, 
 who rang for full speed and swung the boat around. 
 Then we saw the danger. A towering wave fifty 
 feet high was racing toward us. It was a question 
 whether we could outspeed it or whether it would 
 crush against us. It was carrying blocks of ice as 
 big as a skiff, any one of which had momentum and 
 power enough to sink our ship. Panic prevailed 
 for a minute, then it became plain that the ship had 
 swung around and was driving for safety with all 
 speed. The captain said to me, “If one of those 
 chunks of ice had struck us the Indians would be 
 telling this story, not we.” 
 
 We were sorry to learn on reaching Seattle that 
 
EXPANSION 143 
 
 the company had cashiered the captain because he 
 had taken us too close to danger. 
 
 The Alaskan work was very dear to me on ac- 
 count of the lonely and desolate conditions in which 
 the people were living and on account of the heroic 
 band of missionaries who went up there rejoicing 
 in their trials, doing yeoman service for the King- 
 dom. The work there has had many vicissitudes 
 because of climatic conditions and changes of popu- 
 lation. The Point Barrow mission, the one farthest 
 north of any in America, if not in the world, has 
 severely tried the brave men and women who dared 
 the Arctic solitude—so shut in that only once a 
 year, and not always even then, can they get any 
 message from home. 
 
 The Alaskan field will not for many years, if 
 ever, produce the results which Alaskan enthusiasts 
 have predicted, but the labors and examples of men 
 like Sheldon Jackson and S$. Halil Young will ever 
 remain a testimony to the power of the gospel to 
 lift men above physical conditions, making them 
 glad of the chance to endure hardships like good 
 soldiers. 
 
 When I entered upon my work, I found there 
 George F. McAfee, D.D., as superintendent of 
 schools conducted by the Woman’s Board, which at 
 that time, (and indeed till 1915) was a department 
 of the Board of Home Missions. He was a man 
 
144 CHARLES LEMUEL THOMPSON 
 
 of rare spirit and admirably fitted for his office. 
 Ill health caused him to resign in 1905, when he was 
 succeeded by the Rev. Robert M. Craig. To the 
 end of his life Dr. McAfee was an example to us 
 all in his gentleness, patience, charity and devotion. 
 In one of the magazines I indited the following 
 poem to his memory: 
 
 A man—Nathaniel-like—sincere, 
 With conscience tender, pure and true, 
 Whose thoughts like homing-pigeons flew 
 To find elsewhere their native sphere. 
 
 A friend—who knew not how to swerve 
 From him he once had called his friend, 
 Unchanging—firm—he sought no end 
 
 Beyond the chance to love and serve. 
 
 A saint—content in lowly ways 
 To find the steps the Master trod, 
 To walk like Enoch with his God: 
 His duty done—all needed praise— 
 
 Man, friend, and saint—our only requiem bell 
 This lingering note—we loved and love thee well. 
 
 In 1902, after a good deal of searching, I found 
 an ideal assistant in the person of John Willis Baer, 
 at that time general secretary of the Young Peo- 
 ple’s Society of Christian Endeavor. He remained 
 with us for four fruitful years, when he yielded to 
 the blandishments of Occidental College, in Cali- 
 fornia. He soon became so popular on the western 
 
EXPANSION 145 
 
 coast that one of the California ministers said to 
 me: “ Baer can have anything he wants on this 
 coast. He can go to Congress if he wants to.” 
 
 In a few years something better came to him. 
 He was made moderator of the Presbyterian Gen- 
 eral Assembly ! 
 
 After Dr. Baer’s resignation, Joseph Ernest 
 McAfee, of Park College, succeeded to his office, 
 and gave to the Board years of valuable and con- 
 structive service. 
 
 In 1905 Thomas C. Moffett, D.D., was ap- 
 pointed by the Board as Indian Representative, and 
 in 1907 an Indian Department was created with 
 Dr. Moffett in charge. His varied and constructive 
 efforts have been effective in handling the interests 
 of our Board and the constituent Boards of the 
 Home Mission Council, with which also he has 
 been associated. 
 
 In 1912 the Mexican work was put into the 
 charge of Robert McLean, D.D., and continues as 
 a department of the Board under the care of 
 his son. 
 
 In 1907 the Board erected a new department 
 called a Field Secretaryship, and elected to that of- 
 fice the Rev. Baxter P. Fullerton, of St. Louis. He 
 had been a close friend of mine from the Kansas 
 City days, when he was one of the Kansas City 
 pastors. He maintained his office in St. Louis and 
 had general supervision of the field work through- 
 
146 CHARLES LEMUEL THOMPSON 
 
 out the West. But the work still grew, so that in 
 1908 the Board deemed it wise to extend field su- 
 ' pervision by the appointment of three additional 
 superintendents. Dr. Fullerton was given charge 
 of the Southwest; the Rev. Robert N. Adams, 
 D.D., of Minnesota, was given the Northwest; the 
 Rey. Robert M. Donaldson, D.D., the Rocky 
 Mountain District, and the Rev. William S. Holt, 
 D.D., of Portland, the Pacific Coast. Thus was 
 my office kept in close touch with the whole field. 
 Dr. Adams, pressed by years, resigned in 1910, and 
 the Rev. William H. Kearns, D.D., was elected in 
 his place. Dr. Adams only of that faithful band 
 has been called home. He was in every way a large 
 man, a general in the Civil War and an efficient ad- 
 ministrator in various fields of missionary service. 
 
XI 
 GROWTH OF DEPARTMENTS 
 
TO THE ABSENT. 
 
 Some—in the orange gardens 
 Where the rosy mountains gleam, 
 
 And the sunset clouds are floating 
 Like visions in a dream. 
 
 And some—in the upper gardens 
 Where the starry lilies bloom, 
 Where the light of God suffusing 
 
 Has blotted out the tomb. 
 
 And across the sweep of deserts 
 
 And down through the heavens gray, 
 The loved we love and treasure 
 
 Are thinking of us today. 
 
 So some in the dear Christ’s presence, 
 And some on the various way— 
 
 It 1s heart to heart o’er the distance, 
 And the absent are with us today. 
 
XI 
 GROWTH OF DEPARTMENTS 
 
 HAVE, now reached a point in my story where 
 
 it is proper to give some account of what I 
 
 regard as the most significant part of my ad- 
 ministration. The trend of events is best set forth 
 in a previous book,* and I therefore quote: 
 
 “Since the beginning of the century home mis- 
 sions have tended strongly toward specialization, 
 following in this the general trend of accepted sci- 
 entific thought. In past generations the evangeliza- 
 tion of the country has been an aim expressed 
 chiefly in terms of the occupation of territory. It 
 has been an endeavor to catch up with the moving 
 western frontier. Now that the geographical fron- 
 tier has been drowned in the Pacific Ocean the 
 missionary thought has turned toward congestions 
 of populations far this side of the frontier. 
 
 “The wave of missionary interest has swung 
 back over fields that had been occupied but not con- 
 quered, new fields emerging with startling rapidity 
 out of changed conditions. 
 
 “ New Conditions. The old form of home mis- 
 sions, in which the salvation of individuals and the 
 
 *“ The Soul of America.” 
 149 
 
150 CHARLES LEMUEL THOMPSON 
 
 organization of new churches bulked preeminent, 
 still obtains, for still there are new and unchurched 
 communities. A survey of western conditions con- 
 ducted in 1910 by the Home Missions Council 
 made this startlingly evident. In the very near 
 future frontier life will come to new demands on 
 church forces for two reasons. 
 
 “First, the return of millions of soldiers for 
 whom new opportunities of industrial life will be 
 demanded. The Government is already making 
 plans for more intensive rural life which will 
 throw back the frontier into central regions of the 
 country. Plans for irrigation far beyond anything 
 we have known will yield rich returns for new set- 
 tlers, and forests and mines will disclose their 
 bounties to a hardy population. The home mis- 
 sions of a generation ago is coming to the front 
 again. 
 
 “‘ Second, clear missionary insight shows us new 
 phases of the Christian adventure in both city and 
 country. Specific fields call for specific treatment. 
 To neglect them were to imperil much of the mis- 
 sionary work of the past century. They have risen 
 out of the new movements of populations and the 
 new conditions around them. Problems have 
 emerged, considered in this and following chapters, 
 for the solution of which early forms of the home 
 mission service may be inadequate. 
 
 “ Specialists. And a new form of leadership is 
 demanded. “The general practitioner” still is 
 
GROWTH OF DEPARTMENTS 151 
 
 needed in missions as in medicine. But besides, the 
 country calls for men trained and fitted by natural 
 endowments for special and perhaps untried service. 
 For example, the evangelist who can gather a 
 church on the prairies may not be fitted to solve the 
 immigration problem or the country life problem in 
 its modern relations, or the city problem in its com- 
 plicated reactions. The schools of the prophets 
 now must train men to the specialties of missionary 
 service. Of course, the specialist must have many 
 of the qualifications of the general practitioner. 
 Certain elements are common to all missionary 
 work. A personal message and personal service 
 are fundamental and common. 
 
 “ But conditions may so vary as to constitute a 
 demand for a practically new enterprise. Under 
 certain circumstances the enterprise becomes a 
 problem. Dry farming in the West differed from 
 surface farming chiefly in going deeper down. In- 
 tensive farming differs from extensive farming in 
 recognizing certain scientific factors not so readily 
 discerned. The home missions which shall be ade- 
 quate to meet the needs of a complex national life 
 must go deeper than the surface and must match 
 new and dangerous, or inviting, conditions by 
 newer and more scientific Christian expedients. 
 Hence, new departments have been added to the 
 equipment of mission Boards to enable them to do 
 this work—more difficult, but yielding abundant 
 fruit.” 
 
152 CHARLES LEMUEL THOMPSON 
 
 The Board of Home Missions in 1903 recog- 
 nized the new occasions which teach the new duties 
 and began to organize departments for lines of 
 work which had not up to that time challenged 
 serious attention. 
 
 Its attention was first directed toward the work- 
 ing classes of congested centers, and a “ Working 
 Men’s Department” was organized. A few years 
 later the name was changed to “ The Department 
 of Church and Labor.” 
 
 We called to this work, from his church in St. 
 Louis, Rev. Charles Stelzle, a product of the New 
 York’s East Side, a young man of special gifts and 
 training. His headquarters were first in Chicago, 
 as being nearer the center of his field, over which 
 he travelled extensively, but the rapid growth of 
 the work made it necessary that he should move to 
 New York to be in closer touch with the Board. 
 
 Out of this department came gradually the other 
 branches of social service work. Surveys became 
 necessary, and Mr. G. B. St. John was given charge 
 of that work. 
 
 Some years later, when Mr. John S. Kennedy’s 
 notable gift of millions to the Home Board and to 
 the Church Extension Committee of the Presby- 
 tery, opened the way for advance movements, one 
 of the first of these was the founding of the Labor 
 Temple at Fourteenth Street and Second Avenue, 
 and Charles Stelzle was put in charge of it; by 
 sympathies, training and experience he was spe- 
 
GROWTH OF DEPARTMENTS 153 
 
 cially fitted for that work. It is not important here 
 to go into details of that enterprise. It challenged 
 much attention, called forth much criticism from 
 those who had no vision, but it proved a success in 
 gathering a polyglot population to hear the gospel. 
 An international church was soon organized, and it 
 is still meeting the religious claims of that part of 
 the city, and is a demonstration widely observed of 
 the need and power of new methods adapted to 
 new conditions. 
 
 By 1911 so much progress had been made that 
 the subject came before the General Assembly, 
 which adopted the report of a special committee, 
 and instructed the Board to establish a “ Bureau of 
 Social Service,” in which the Department of 
 Church and Labor was merged. The principles 
 then announced are much the same as those 
 adopted by the Federal Council and later by church 
 assemblies of many communions in America. 
 
 The specialized study of country church condi- 
 tions and of conditions of work among foreigners 
 were transferred at that time respectively to the 
 direction of Warren H. Wilson, D.D., and of Wil- 
 liam Payne Shriver, D.D., who are continuing to 
 have charge of these vital phases of home mission 
 service. Specialized city work, having increasingly 
 to do with congested immigrant populations, has 
 also been placed in Dr. Shriver’s care under the 
 heading the “ Department of City Work.’ Many 
 cities have called upon this department for help in 
 
154 CHARLES LEMUEL THOMPSON 
 
 forming new plans of work. A notable illustra- 
 tion was in San Francisco. After the fire which 
 devastated that city there was a great shifting of 
 population. Multitudes crossed the Bay to the east 
 side. After a thorough survey, all the Presby- 
 terian forces around the Bay were united in a co- 
 operative plan for city evangelization. It was an 
 instant and continuous success. 
 
 The immigration of foreigners from an increas- 
 ing number of countries called for attention. It 
 was home mission work of the most urgent char- 
 acter. Under Dr. Shriver’s direction, in addition 
 to the regular work for foreigners, a new line of 
 approach to these many millions was devised. ‘The 
 Board inaugurated several Immigration Fellow- 
 ships, by which theological students on graduation 
 were enabled to go to some source of immigration 
 in Europe, study the language, and the national 
 characteristics, returning in a couple of years thor- 
 oughly equipped to reach the people from those 
 nations when they came to our shores. This has 
 been a marked success and has advanced our work 
 among foreigners very rapidly. Churches were 
 formed in many parts of the country, and evan- 
 gelical agencies established widely by which the 
 best ideals of American Christian life were inter- 
 preted to the people. 
 
 Our Board also led the way in cooperative 
 service to foreigners. Its arm of service in this 
 was and is the Home Missions Council. This 
 
GROWTH OF DEPARTMENTS 155 
 
 agency, in 1917, made several surveys of racial 
 groups and distributed much valuable literature 
 among the immigrants. 
 
 A little earlier, through the same agency, a mis- 
 sionary work was undertaken through the ports of 
 entry. They were visited from Boston to Galves- 
 ton, their moral and religious conditions examined, 
 and ways devised for giving the newcomers some 
 idea of the Christian character of the country, even 
 before landing. 
 
 The other great branch of the Bureau of Social 
 Service, the Country Church Department, was 
 made necessary by revelations that began to appear 
 concerning the religious decline of country re- 
 gions. Young people were leaving the country, 
 teachers of country schools were often inefficient 
 and very migratory, and many ministers despaired 
 of the country church. Under this pressure the 
 Home Board instituted the movement for moral 
 and religious reconstruction of country life. 
 
 The Government also saw the need and the op- 
 portunity. In 1909 President Roosevelt had 
 founded the “‘ Country Life Commission.”” Other 
 agencies supported by the Government followed, 
 so that a decade showed better farms, better homes 
 and generally better living conditions in the 
 country. 
 
 The work of Dr. Wilson for the Home Board in 
 this respect found swift response in the country 
 regions. Demands from rural Presbyteries and in- 
 
156 CHARLES LEMUEL THOMPSON 
 
 vitations from country churches flowed in on the 
 Board. 
 
 By investigation we were soon able to show to 
 the Church the desperate country-church problem, 
 and then by administration in many presbyteries 
 we were able to show swift and splendid results. 
 There is no occasion here to go into details. They 
 have been published elsewhere. But two general 
 results are to be noted: 
 
 First, our example was promptly followed by 
 other denominations. The Methodist Church 
 created a department similar to our own. The 
 Northern Baptist Convention took the same course; 
 so also the Disciples, the Moravians and others. 
 Indeed I know of few communions that are not 
 giving special attention to the rural work. 
 
 Second, the Home Missions Council and the 
 Federal Council have established Rural Fields 
 Commissions. 
 
 As a result of the activities named a spirit of 
 federation has taken hold of the country churches. 
 One of its earliest phases was in Maine, where the 
 rural population is decreasing. Under the guid- 
 ance of President W. DeWitt Hyde and Dr. Al- 
 fred Williams Anthony, later the secretary of 
 the Home Missions Council, great progress was 
 achieved. Other New England states caught the 
 spirit. Then it moved westward. ‘The Federal 
 Council, under its Commission of Federation, cov- 
 ered the country, and now there are permanent 
 
GROWTH OF DEPARTMENTS 157 
 
 Federations in many states whose aim is to bring 
 the churches into a practical unity. 
 
 It is not too much to say that the great results 
 in the work of the moral and religious reconstruc- 
 tion of the country are in large measure due to the 
 leadership of our Board of Home Missions. I 
 quote again :* 
 
 “The work of the Board’s Bureau of Social 
 Service is chiefly educational—assisting ministers and 
 laymen to meet the problems arising in their own 
 parishes. While the Presbyterian Church has the 
 distinction of being the first denomination in this 
 country to establish and carry on such a department 
 other denominations in the United States, Canada and 
 Europe have now inaugurated similar movements. 
 These bodies have not been slow to acknowledge their 
 indebtedness to the leadership of our Church. The 
 Boston Herald some years ago remarked editorially: 
 
 ““ When the Presbyterian Church in this country a 
 few years ago established its Department of Church 
 and Labor in connection with the Home Missionary 
 Society, it established a precedent among American 
 Protestant Churches and did the most statesmanlike 
 thing to be chronicled in the history of American 
 Protestantism during the past decade. The results 
 have justified the innovation.’ 
 
 “The essential features of the Bureau of Social 
 Service are still maintained. Its educational propa- 
 ganda has been taken up by presbyteries and churches 
 and the social interpretation and application of the 
 gospel are being steadily advanced. In many centers 
 
 * “The Soul of America.” 
 
158 CHARLES LEMUEL THOMPSON 
 
 the community life, inspired by the community 
 church, is proving the gospel’s power to bind people 
 into the close and helpful bonds of the Kingdom of 
 God.” 
 
 The Board, in heeding the calls above described, 
 did not forget the call of its original charter. It 
 has continued to follow the steps of the pioneer. 
 The Home Mission opportunities have increased 
 not only with the increase of acreage of land, but 
 with the development of new capacities for sus- 
 taining populations. Agriculture is more intensive. 
 The treasures under the soil have given employ- 
 ment to millions. So Home Missions must still go 
 west. But a refluent wave also calls it back east, 
 to the great capitals where life is intense, fierce, 
 perilous, more difficult to control than in the soli- 
 tude of the desert. The departments which one by 
 one had come into being, were organized to answer 
 those calls. Of course country work had been older 
 than the Board, but the different rural populations 
 and conditions of today called for special treatment. 
 Also, work among foreigners had been as old as 
 the incoming of the first European migrations. 
 But radical immigration changes demanded new 
 forms of Christian activity. The American city— 
 its marvellous growth, and far above all, its cosmo- 
 politan character—cosmopolitan in a sense and to 
 an extent which to thoughtful people spelled a na- 
 tional peril—challenged attention. So we began 
 City Work. 
 
GROWTH OF DEPARTMENTS 159 
 
 The creation of these new departments in which 
 educational, social and reformatory work was done, 
 as well as that which is strictly evangelical, awak- 
 ened a good deal of criticism among men of limited 
 vision, who had not yet learned what the Church 
 should do under the new conditions to christianize 
 our nation. Thus our Country Life Department 
 was attacked because it advocated better farming 
 as an adjunct to better living. Our City Work was 
 criticized because it took social and housing con- 
 ditions into the account in taking the gospel to 
 crowded populations. Even our Immigration 
 Work was spoken against because we took note of 
 various bad conditions, and asked the Government 
 to provide remedies. That was interfering with 
 secular and political matters which must not be 
 tolerated. For a,number of years we were feeling 
 our way toward this new yet old interpretation of 
 the gospel. But the work of these new depart- 
 ments went on, other communions following our 
 leadership, helping thus to bring in the new day of 
 the larger conception of the home mission task. 
 
 In our first steps along these new lines it soon 
 became apparent that we must correct some impres- 
 sions that stood in the way. ‘There was even some 
 opposition based on the assumption that somehow 
 these lines of work antagonized personal salvation. 
 We endeavored to make it plain that what we 
 sought was quite in harmony with the most con- 
 servative views of the gospel, that we were not 
 
160 CHARLES LEMUEL THOMPSON 
 
 bringing in an innovation but only stating in mod- 
 ern terms what dated back to the days of the Apos- 
 tles. Social service was only the moral and 
 religious care of the community. It finds its be- 
 ginning in the Acts of the Apostles. The infant 
 church in Jerusalem did not have a branch of 
 social service. Itself’ was an institution of such 
 service. In later times when the chief emphasis 
 was placed on personal salvation, social service 
 almost went out of the recognition of the Church. 
 
 Another cause for disturbance in the conserva- 
 tive wing of the Presbyterian Church was my atti- 
 tude toward other communions. I had long been 
 an advocate of closer relations with the entire body 
 of Christ. I had worked for a Federation of 
 Churches long before I became secretary. A closer 
 acquaintance with home mission problems _per- 
 suaded me that radical changes must be made in 
 the missionary field. Cooperation must take the 
 place of rivalry. We had remained too long in de- 
 nominational valleys. The denominations must 
 yield to the larger view of what is best for the 
 Kingdom of God. These ideas I advocated 
 through the Home Missions Council, and through 
 the plans of the Home Board. 
 
 When they came to be worked out on the field 
 much opposition was manifested. Where would 
 Presbyterianism come out if we must always be 
 thinking in the large terms of the Kingdom? Ef- 
 forts to unite small churches and to eliminate 
 
GROWTH OF DEPARTMENTS 161 
 
 competition met with a good deal of resistance, es- 
 pecially in certain sections of the great West. The 
 Board, however, steadfastly adhered to its policy 
 and cooperated fully with the Home Missions 
 Council to bring about a better day. And the day 
 came. Comity prevailed and far more than comity. 
 The denominations were not only trying to keep 
 out of each other’s way. They were getting close 
 together and joining hands in a common crusade. 
 

 
XII 
 THE HOME MISSIONS COUNCIL 
 
THE HARP OF THE AGES. 
 
 America’s genius—faith-lifted, far-eyed— 
 Over mountains and deserts, prophetic she cried: 
 
 I will build me a harp for the world’s last song 
 
 To sound forth the triumph o’er passion and wrong; 
 To summon the nations to ultimate peace, 
 
 To give a world’s sorrow its final surcease, 
 
 Over far-away seas I will summon its wires 
 
 That are tempered to fineness by liberty’s fires. 
 
 One drawn from the hills of Italian vines, 
 And one from the crags of the Apennines; 
 
 A quivering thread from the Slavic lands, 
 And one from the North sea’s wintry strands; 
 A heavy string from the heights of the Rhine, 
 And one where the flowers of France entwine. 
 
 From the Grampians far to the hills of Nippon 
 
 I will gather the wires—one by one. 
 
 From Appalachian heights I will string them far 
 To the mountains pricked by the evening star. 
 And then I will wait—with the patience of God— 
 Till the ages their glittering pathways have trod. 
 
 Then—then as the winds of the centuries play 
 Through the dawning sheen of earth's ultimate day— 
 At last shall our national anthem arise 
 
 With the notes that broke down the Bethlehem skies— 
 A world’s peace and glory and Heaven’s “ Amen” 
 
 By the blending of chords from the lands of All Men. 
 
XII 
 THE HOME MISSIONS COUNCIL 
 
 HAVE alluded to the work of the Home Mis- 
 
 sions Council. It has become so large a factor 
 
 in church life that it is proper here to give a 
 somewhat fuller account of it. It was organized 
 in 1908 by a few who believed the time had come 
 to give organic expression to the desire for closer 
 cooperation among the evangelical denominations. 
 A briet Constitution was adopted which has re- 
 mained practically unchanged. Its aim was de- 
 clared to be “to promote fellowship, conference 
 and cooperation among Christian organizations 
 doing missionary work in the United States and 
 their dependencies.” Later the scope of the work 
 was made to include Canada. 
 
 I was elected the first president of the Council 
 and have been re-elected at each annual meeting 
 since. The affairs of the Council have been in the 
 hands of an executive committee, which has held 
 frequent meetings. At first the services were 
 purely voluntary. As the duties increased it be- 
 came necessary to have permanent office quarters 
 
 165 
 
166 CHARLES LEMUEL THOMPSON 
 
 and paid executives. The funds came chiefly by 
 an accepted apportionment from the cooperating 
 societies, numbering now about forty and repre- 
 senting twenty-seven denominations. 
 
 Its budget has increased as its usefulness has in- 
 creased, under the able Secretaryship of Dr. Alfred 
 Williams Anthony, who was its Secretary for five 
 years and has only just resigned to take up another 
 form of work. He found a valuable helper in the 
 Rev. R. W. Roundy, who has recently listened to 
 the call of a New England church. 
 
 The new Secretary, the Rev. C. E. Vermilya, 
 has just entered upon his work. 
 
 Associated with the Council is the Council of 
 Women for Home Missions, also having an execu- 
 tive staff and occupying adjoining quarters. The 
 work of these two has grown steadily till now it is 
 recognized as an aid to the home mission enterprise 
 which is effective and indispensable. It has been 
 the means of putting into operation Home Missions 
 Councils in a number of western states, in stimu- 
 lating cooperation throughout the country, in mini- 
 mizing the overlapping of missionary agencies and 
 in putting to work a statesmanlike program by 
 which the many organizations shall increasingly 
 function as one great missionary army for the 
 conquest of our country. It has brought into its 
 fellowship the strongest leaders of all the evangel- 
 ical bodies. The Federal Council regards it as its 
 agent in the entire field of home missions. 
 
THE HOME MISSIONS COUNCIL 167 
 
 During these years that I have given much time 
 to its affairs I have been amply rewarded in its 
 expansion and fruitfulness. Among the men most 
 closely associated with me in these formative years 
 I may mention such dear friends as Dr. Hubert C. 
 Herring, of the Congregational Church; Dr. Frank 
 Mason North, of the Methodist Church; Dr. E. B. 
 Sanford, who helped to organize the Federal Coun- 
 cil; Dr. H. C. Morehouse, a veteran in Baptist mis- 
 sions, and his successor, Dr. Charles L. White; 
 Bishop Lloyd, of the Episcopal Church, and that 
 choice spirit of the Reformed Church, Rev. John 
 Brownlee Voorhees, who was our first Secretary 
 and who gave his life for humanity in the World 
 War. I must not forget Dr. Josiah Strong, that 
 great leader in federative work, one of the first to 
 see its importance and to give it his strong aid. 
 He passed away after a long illness in the maturity 
 of his powers and left a rich legacy not only in the 
 books which gave a new vision to home missions, 
 but also in his personal leadership which this gen- 
 eration at least will hold in grateful memory. At 
 the time of this writing the Home Missions Coun- 
 cil may be said to have become firmly established 
 as one of the great agencies in bringing into Ameri- 
 can history a new day in cooperative Christianity. 
 
 From the organization of the Council, in 1908, 
 to 1914, my home mission energies were given out- 
 let through both the Home Board and the Council. 
 At the latter date the time came when it seemed 
 
168 CHARLES LEMUEL THOMPSON 
 
 best (I was seventy-five years old) that so far as 
 the Presbyterian Board was concerned I should 
 give my place to a younger man and should give 
 what strength remained for coming years to the in- 
 terdenominational work represented by the Home 
 Missions Council. 
 
 My work for the Home Board had covered six- 
 teen years of a very formative character. As I 
 have already noted, they were the years when home 
 missions took in a wider and a deeper range. It 
 considered the denomination less and the common 
 interests of the Kingdom more. It regarded not 
 only, nor mainly, the geographic extension of the 
 missionary work, its latitude and longitude, but 
 more its depth in getting a grasp on those problems 
 of social and moral and educational conditions 
 which were rising to eminence all over the country 
 and threatening, unless checked, the very founda- 
 tions of American society. Questions of race 
 brought out by class relations rising through our 
 industrial system, of moral decline and intellectual 
 decay manifest in increasing illiteracy and in moral 
 degeneracy in many sections of the country, the 
 effect on the popular life of unsettled economic con- 
 ditions because of which a perilous unrest was 
 manifesting itself, breaking out often into violence 
 and even into savagery,—these and kindred ques- 
 tions demanded a reshaping of missionary plans, a 
 broader and more philosophic attitude toward the 
 entire range of moral and religious endeavors. 
 
THE HOME MISSIONS COUNCIL 169 
 
 As I have intimated, these new visions and plans 
 could not be taken up without opposition from con- 
 servatives tied down to stereotyped ways and meth- 
 ods. These criticisms, together with my announce- 
 ment to resign in March, 1914, raised somewhat of 
 a tempest in certain quarters, but the General As- 
 sembly stood firmly by the policies which had been 
 adopted by the Board and at its session in Chicago, 
 in that year, adopted the following generous 
 resolution : 
 
 EXTRACTS FROM THE MINUTEs OF THE GENERAL 
 ASSEMBLY OF THE PRESBYTERIAN CHURCH 
 IN THE U.S. A., May 27, 1914. 
 
 “The General Assembly desires to place upon 
 record its profound and hearty appreciation of the 
 long, faithful and successful services of the Rev. 
 Charles L. Thompson, D.D., who has filled the office 
 of General Secretary for sixteen years. His prophetic 
 vision and utterance, his inspiring leadership, his in- 
 domitable courage, his large-minded statesmanship, 
 have combined to make his services to the Church 
 such as can never be forgotten. The religious life of 
 America will be forever different because of what he 
 has seen and hoped and worked out. Nor is it only 
 in our own branch of the Church that his service has 
 had meaning and value. For under his leadership, 
 the work has been such that other divisions of the 
 Church have looked to the Board of Home Missions 
 of the Presbyterian Church for their guidance and 
 inspiration. We thank God, that if he must lay down 
 his task, it can be with the glad consciousness that 
 
170 CHARLES LEMUEL THOMPSON 
 
 he has served the Church of God as it is given to few 
 men to serve her.” 
 
 During those sixteen years I traveled exten- 
 sively and wrote largely in the interest of the work. 
 My journeys took me into every state in the Union 
 save one or two. I was present at every meeting of 
 the General Assembly save one, when I was ill. [ 
 spoke at every meeting, my addresses were pub- 
 lished and may be found among my papers. They 
 were received with a generous appreciation. 
 
 Of my various journeys, a few to our more re- 
 mote possessions may be worth a passing men- 
 tion. I have already referred to my trip to Alaska 
 in 1900. 
 
 I made a number of trips to our various Indian 
 reservations, the most interesting of which was a 
 journey to the Pima Mission, made illustrious. by 
 the heroic and fruitful service of the Rev. Charles 
 H. Cook. This mission has had an eventful work 
 for more than fifty years. 
 
 I recall with keen pleasure a visit we made there 
 nearly twenty years ago. Leaving the railroad at 
 Casa Grande we drove behind a team of fairly gen- 
 tle horses for sixteen miles over the desert, with 
 its sage brush and its rattlesnakes, till midnight 
 brought us to the missionary’s home. The light in 
 the window as we approached told us that the vet- 
 eran missionary awaited our coming. It was a 
 lonely home. His wife, who had been his strong 
 
THE HOME MISSIONS COUNCIL 171 
 
 and devoted helper, had gone to her rest. His 
 children were among friends in the East. He was 
 standing guard alone. Yet in his solitude his work 
 was his companion. No man ever gave himself 
 more devotedly to his mission than Cook gave 
 himself to his Pima children. 
 
 A preaching service had been arranged for the 
 day following our arrival. It was in the middle of 
 the week. On our query whether the Indians would 
 come to a service at high noon of a week day Cook 
 quietly remarked, “ You will see.’ And we did 
 see. An hour before the appointed time the audi- 
 ence began to assemble. They came in many cases 
 from long distances; some of them on a journey of 
 ten or fifteen miles over the.desert. They came on 
 ponies, in carts, on foot, parents and papooses, till 
 before the hour for service, the church holding 
 four hundred was full from the pulpit to the door. 
 I am accustomed to all kinds of audiences, but 
 never before nor since have I found one more in- 
 tent on the message and its claims. And this from 
 a people who a dozen years before had been sunk 
 in a dreary and hopeless paganism. And all this 
 the reward of one humble and unknown mission- 
 ary. Here was indeed the power of the gospel. 
 One could not help drawing a contrast between this 
 simple reality and the show of religion in stately 
 cathedrals among people with whom the “ sim- 
 plicity that is in Christ’ is often obscured by the 
 vain show of many inventions. 
 
172 CHARLES LEMUEL THOMPSON 
 
 After the service the Indians gathered around 
 us to shake hands, and it was some hours later 
 before the last of them went off to their desert 
 homes. 
 
 I made several visits to our islands in the Carib- 
 bean. The first visit was to Porto Rico the year 
 after the opening of-our work there. That visit 
 was full of interest and inspiration. My wife was 
 with me, and under Dr. Greene’s kind guidance we 
 had a fairly complete view of the island. I should 
 mention that when Drs. Greene and Caldwell, our 
 first missionaries, went to the island they took with 
 them two important documents. The first was the 
 agreement entered into between four mission 
 Boards as they were about to begin work in Porto 
 Rico, that we would divide responsibility for differ- 
 ent sections of the island (the Presbyterians taking 
 the western section), that we avoid all competition 
 and would so work together as to demonstrate to 
 those who had been crushed by a false church unity 
 that there is one that is living and life giving. 
 
 The second document was a proclamation to the 
 people of Porto Rico, giving the spirit in which we 
 entered on the work and seeking their cooperation. 
 
 It was my privilege to preach the first Thanks- 
 giving sermon that ever had been given there. It 
 was in Mayaguez, a beautiful city on the western 
 coast. The audience was more than the hall could 
 hold. Many hung around the doors and the long 
 French windows. Indeed everywhere we went the 
 
THE HOME MISSIONS COUNCIL 173 
 
 size of the audience was determined by the size of 
 the building. Part of this, of course, was curios- 
 ity. But a part of it one could see was the longing 
 for something other than the Catholic Church had 
 given them. The growth of mission work on the 
 island steadily demonstrated this. 
 
 A few years after this first visit, we went there 
 again. The mission stations that had been opened 
 in many places, the schools that had attracted nu- 
 merous and earnest students, the personal testi- 
 monials that came to us on every hand, told elo- 
 quently of the appreciation of a gospel that 
 revealed the “simplicity that is in Christ.” The 
 work of all the denominations now engaged in 
 Porto Rico is a marvel of cooperation, looking for- 
 ward to ever closer union. The spirit in which it 
 was begun has been steadily maintained. 
 
 In 1910 a somewhat different form of work was 
 undertaken by the Rev. John William Harris, who 
 opened an industrial school at San German, a beau- 
 tifully situated town twelve miles from Mayaguez. 
 Two years later the name was changed to the Poly- 
 technic Institute, and as such it has had a remark- 
 able growth. That it has commended itself to the 
 people of Porto Rico is evidenced by the fact that 
 there are yearly hundreds more applicants than it 
 is able to receive. 
 
 Its great value lies in the fact that in Porto Rico, 
 as in all Latin countries, work is generally consid- 
 ered as below the dignity of an educated individ- 
 
1174 CHARLES LEMUEL THOMPSON 
 
 ual. To teach its students to feel the dignity of 
 work and how work can be efficiently and econom- 
 ically performed, both by men and women, is there- 
 fore the no mean purpose of this Institute. 
 
 I have a peculiar interest in this work, for it 1s 
 there that a building is to be erected which shall 
 bear my name, the Board having with great con- 
 sideration so decreed. 
 
 ' Twice I have visited Cuba. The first visit was 
 in 1902, soon after the inception of our work on 
 the Island, and there, as in Porto Rico earlier, Dr. 
 Green was my guide. We traveled the length of 
 the island (and it seemed long enough in those un- 
 comfortable trains), and made tentative plans for 
 the church and school work, which has since devel- 
 oped beyond our early hopes. 
 
 A second visit occurred as we were returning 
 home after the Panama conference, of which I 
 shall speak more fully later. A number of us 
 stopped off at Havana for a three days’ regional 
 conference. 
 
 My time was taken up by this meeting and I did 
 not, therefore, go to many of our stations outside 
 of the city, though I met many of our missionaries 
 at the conference. 
 
 A rather amusing incident occurred at the Sun- 
 day night service at the Methodist church. Dr. 
 King, of Oberlin, was announced to preach. As 
 we went in, we found the minister anxiously look- 
 ing up and down the street. Dr. King, he ex- 
 
THE HOME MISSIONS COUNCIL = 175 
 
 plained, had not come, nor did he even know that 
 he was in Havana. 
 
 “He is here,” we said. ‘‘He came up from 
 Panama in the boat with us. He probably has lost 
 his way. Don’t wait for him, begin your service 
 and he will turn up.” 
 
 After a few more agitated minutes of waiting, 
 the worried preacher strode up the aisle to the pul- 
 pit, took up a hymn book, and said, “‘ We will com- 
 mence our service by singing the six hundred and 
 seventieth hymn, ‘Come, Thou Almighty King.’ ” 
 
 Needless to say, Dr. King did come, and was 
 much amused later to learn what hymn the min- 
 ister had chosen. 
 
 The days in Havana, which is a beautiful city, 
 were made all the more beautiful by the kind atten- 
 tions of our friends, Mr. and Mrs. Snare, of New 
 York. They spent much time in Havana because 
 of his business interests there. Their car, and we 
 might say themselves, were at our call, so that we 
 saw much of the city and its surroundings. They 
 not only entertained us royally, but followed us on 
 our departure by a telegram to our hotel at Key 
 West instructing it to refuse to give us any bill. 
 
 Indeed that good fortune followed us through 
 the South, where I was meeting various missionary 
 engagements. At Miami, Palm Beach, Eustis, St. 
 Augustine and Charleston we met with the same 
 kind attentions. So that we came home quite full 
 of southern hospitality. 
 

 
XIII 
 OVERSEAS 
 
SESE AMS Mil Sy 
 
 Man claims the land, but his domain 
 Stops at the shore. 
 
 God’s wandering acres of the main 
 Roll on before. 
 
 I look this vast expanse abroad, 
 My rest ts this: 
 
 This is the blue-veined palm of God, 
 “The sea is His.’ 
 
 Far from the world men walk upon, 
 Why should I fear? 
 
 Across this Galilee the Son 
 Of God draws near. 
 
 I lie within His hand. Above 
 Benignant bends 
 
 The blue eye of His boundless love, 
 And that defends. 
 
XIII 
 OVERSEAS 
 
 NUMBER of times I have crossed the seas. 
 A brief account of some of these trips is 
 here given. 
 
 As stated in a previous chapter, my first Furo- 
 pean trip in 1885 was with my son Robert, whose 
 health had become impaired by his studies in col- 
 lege and seminary. He had been licensed to 
 preach, and had spent a summer preaching to a 
 congregation in Minnesota, when it became evi- 
 dent that his nervous condition was threatening 
 his health. It was hoped that a complete change 
 might restore him. He had a brilliant career ahead 
 of him. His classmates considered him their out- 
 standing man. But the foreign trip did not do 
 for him what we had hoped. After a few years 
 of struggle with his failing health, he and I 
 were in a skiff, on Lake Mendota, which capsized 
 and he was drowned. So ended what at one time 
 had promised to be a great career as a minister of 
 the gospel. 
 
 In the journey undertaken for his benefit there 
 was nothing worthy of special mention. It was the 
 itinerary usual with those who go abroad for the 
 
 179 
 
180 CHARLES LEMUEL THOMPSON 
 
 first time, and it ended with a sore disappointment 
 on my part. 
 
 The year after our coming to New York my 
 wife and I spent three months in Europe, taking 
 the ordinary route to England, France, Switzer- 
 land, and Holland. It was a delightful tour, but 
 with no occasions calling for an extended remark. 
 
 In 1895 there came an occasion of great signifi- 
 cance. The Evangelist, of New York, organ- 
 ized a party of Presbyterians to visit in a historic 
 study the headquarters of the Reformed Move- 
 ments in Furope. It was to be more than a junket- 
 ing trip. It was to get in sympathetic touch with 
 the Presbyterianism of the old world. Arrange- 
 ments had been made for receptions at the various 
 centers and for such guidance by leaders there as 
 would give us “ close up”’ knowledge of our Euro- 
 pean forbears. Henry R. Elliot, manager of The 
 Evangelist and organizer of the tour, invited us to 
 go with the party at only the cost of my giving 
 addresses and responses on behalf of our pilgrims. 
 Of course we gladly accepted the generous invita- 
 tion. It was a very congenial company that set sail. 
 Dr. Henry M. Field, editor of The Evangelist, and 
 Mr. Elliot did everything to make the trip both de- 
 lightful and memorable. 
 
 We were to be expected guests at the various 
 Presbyterian headquarters in Europe. What more 
 could Presbyterian travelers desire? At Queens- 
 town we were met by the man who was to be our 
 
OVERSEAS 181 
 
 guide in the British Isles, Dr. William Carruthers, 
 late curator of the Botanical section of the British 
 Museum, a man of rare accomplishments and of 
 charming personality. The welcome we received 
 from him was a forecast of what we had to expect. 
 
 Our first point of contact with our historic 
 Church was at Belfast. As our train slowed down 
 at the station we were surprised to see awaiting us 
 a large committee headed by the Lord Mayor in all 
 the regalia of his office, his dignified mace-bearer 
 at his side. One or two ministers made addresses 
 of welcome to which I replied. We were driven to 
 a large hall where an important public reception had 
 been staged. The learning and beauty of Belfast . 
 were on hand. Scholarly papers of profuse length 
 were presented by eminent leaders of the Church, 
 addresses of welcome and responses were given and 
 a bountiful collation crowned the occasion. On 
 Sunday I preached in the Rosemary Church. We 
 dined at the manse of one of the great men of Bel- 
 fast, Rev. Dr. Lind, an ex-Moderator of the Irish 
 Assembly, and in the evening heard him preach an 
 excellent sermon. But greater than his sermon was 
 his voice. I have seldom been so moved with 
 Scripture reading as by his. Would that our semi- 
 naries impressed on our young ministers the value 
 of training in that line. 
 
 After a few days in the old town full of cordial- 
 ity and of information, in which we learned much 
 of America’s indebtedness to Scotch-Irish leaders 
 
182 CHARLES LEMUEL THOMPSON 
 
 who had dared and suffered for a free Church, we 
 crossed the Irish Sea, en route to the land and city 
 of John Knox. Edinburgh, even to the tourist, is 
 a fascinating city. To the student of history it is 
 far more. There is no place where the origins of 
 American Presbyterianism stand out so dramatic- 
 ally. The great service in St. Giles carried us back 
 to the Reformation. There is the spot where Jen- 
 nie Geddes stood when she flung her three-legged 
 argument at the head of a too subservient minister 
 of “the things as they were.” ‘There were the 
 arches that had echoed the thunders of the preacher 
 who “never feared the face of man.”’ And there 
 down High Street was the house where were 
 forged the thunderbolts that shattered ecclesiastical 
 tyranny. And down in the valley was the old 
 Greyfriars Church, where the National Covenant 
 was signed in 1638 by men who knew it was their 
 death warrant and who went joyfully to martyr- 
 dom for the faith once delivered to the saints. 
 There, also, was Cowgate, where the first General 
 Assembly convened. 
 
 In the Antiquarian Museum we saw the very 
 stool that Jennie Geddes flung at the minister, and 
 we saw also those other persuaders of recalcitrant 
 minds—the thumb screw and gag and stone balls, 
 and other diabolical inventions. In these later days 
 we have discarded those stone and iron arguments. 
 Now we are content to cast people out of the 
 
 synagogue. 
 
OVERSEAS 183 
 
 Free thought in Scotland has had a thorny road 
 to travel. It was there in the venerable Church of 
 St. Andrews, on May 18, 1843, that Dr. Welsh 
 laid his protest on the table, the last argument for 
 a free church, and with his brave little company 
 marched out, not knowing whither they went— 
 knowing only that freedom was better than “a 
 living.” 
 
 One evening we had tea in John Knox’s house on 
 High Street. Mr. Guthrie, a distinguished bar- 
 rister and the son of Dr. Thomas Guthrie, the great 
 preacher, gave a delightful historical address which 
 the surroundings made vivific. The widow of Dr. 
 Guthrie received us, hale and vigorous in spite of 
 her eighty-six years. In that room we seemed to 
 be in the presence of the man of whom Thomas 
 Randolph said to Sir William Cecil, “‘ He put more 
 life in us than five Naiehee yatnngs continually 
 blustering in our ears.’ 
 
 Not long ago a friend said to me, “ Edinboro’ is 
 the most beautiful city in the world.” 
 
 It were easy to dispute that statement. But sure 
 it is that no other city except Geneva has in it so 
 much to fascinate a Presbyterian. 
 
 One evening we were given a memorable recep- 
 tion in the Free Church College Library. About 
 two hundred of the leaders of the several Presby- 
 terian bodies were present. I say several Presby- 
 terian bodies. It is somewhat a matter of common 
 knowledge that Scotchmen have independent con- 
 
184 CHARLES LEMUEL THOMPSON 
 
 victions, and that when those convictions have 
 crystallized, it is hard to combine them with other 
 crystals, and that there are, therefore, a good many 
 divisions in the Presbyterian Church. 
 
 On this occasion Dr. Blackie presided and gave 
 a most felicitous opening address of welcome. 
 Other addresses were given by Dr. McGregor, an 
 eminent preacher of the Established Church, Dr. 
 Wilson, Moderator of the Free Church Assembly, 
 Dr. Orr, of the United Presbyterian Church, and 
 Mr. Sharrock, of the “ Auld Lichts.” Thus all the 
 “Split Peas”’ were well represented. I made re- 
 sponse and was followed by Henry R. Elliot and 
 the Rev. Dr. Niven (another of our Pilgrims). 
 We met many interesting people—Sir Thomas 
 Clark, the well known publisher; Sir Grange 
 Stewart, physician to the Queen; Lady Ferguson 
 (Ann Guinnes), and many others. Of course we 
 had tea, and to make sure we had enough, the 
 speeches were sandwiched in between tea at the 
 beginning of the exercises and tea at the close. 
 
 On Sunday I preached in the Morningside Free 
 Church for Dr. Charles A. Salmond. That was 
 the beginning of a beautiful friendship. We were 
 his guests in his pleasant home and discovered we 
 had mutual friends on this side of the sea, for he 
 had been a student at Princeton, brought there 
 by his desire to study under Dr. Hodge. Among 
 other books he gave me was his “ Princetoniana,”’ 
 sketches of Princeton people and history and ways. 
 
OVERSEAS 185 
 
 In the evening we had a beautiful service in his- 
 toric St. Giles. It was a communion service, pe- 
 culiar but very solemn and effective. The wine 
 was not in “individual cups,’ but in great bowls 
 centuries old, and requiring strong and steady 
 hands to keep the wine in proper bounds. Mr. 
 Guthrie, the attorney, a Free Church elder, aided 
 in the service. It was the first time a Free Church 
 elder had ever been invited to assist at anything in 
 the Established Church. He attributed it to our 
 presence, for whom the communion had been ar- 
 ranged. Those were rare days in Edinboro’. 
 
 The next morning we said good-bye to the beau- 
 tiful old town. Many new friends were at the 
 station to speed the parting guests. Among them 
 were Messrs. Anderson and Ferrier, the publishers, 
 who presented me with a photographed copy of 
 Burns’ manuscript of “‘ Scots who hae wi’ Wal- 
 lace bled.” 
 
 Mr. Moffat, a member as I recall of the same 
 firm, was also there to put in our care his daughter 
 for the European part of our trip. She was a very 
 pleasant Scotch lassie whom twenty years after we 
 found in her own beautiful home, the wife of a 
 prosperous Edinburgh business man. 
 
 On our way south we visited Melrose Abbey, and 
 that great literary shrine, Abbotsford, where for an 
 hour we surrendered ourselves to the memories 
 and associations of that wizard of Scottish ro- 
 mance. Historical novels have been much the fash- 
 
186 CHARLES LEMUEL THOMPSON 
 
 ion in recent years, but the “ Waverlies ”’ still retain 
 their charm as the best historical novels ever 
 written. 
 
 At Dumfries we were taken to the house and 
 then the grave of Burns. What a hold on Scottish 
 people has that man who sang the songs of the 
 heart! So much in. him that was not lovable, is 
 there any poet who commands a deeper love? A 
 drive over the moors took us successively to Cam- 
 eron’s monument and the grave of John Brown, the 
 Christian carrier of Priesthill, cruelly shot by 
 Claverhouse. We lived over again the days of the 
 Covenanters. I wonder whether in these more 
 placid days we would find men who for the faith 
 once delivered to the saints would withstand Clav- 
 erhouse and his cohorts. 
 
 Stirling had for me a special interest because 
 there was the little church where my father-in-law, 
 Dr. Robert Boyd, had preached. Of course, the 
 historic castle was full of memorials. There was 
 the room where Earl Douglas was slain by the 
 king. And there was the pulpit from which John 
 Knox thundered that Gospel which dethroned kings 
 and queens and established religious liberty. Our 
 guide was Hay Fleming, who threw some doubts 
 on some of the memorials. But the traveler pre- 
 fers the things that are to the erudition of the 
 antiquarian. 
 
 Nobody goes to England on a pleasure tour with- 
 out a stop at Chester. The cathedral associated 
 
OVERSEAS 187 
 
 with the name of Dean Howson was full of inter- 
 est. Much of its present charm is due to restora- 
 tions made by him. Our social functions there 
 were first a luncheon with the Lord Bishop, where 
 we met the Bishop of Calcutta, the Misses Wimbur- 
 ton and other interesting people, and then a tea 
 with the Misses Howson, the cultivated and 
 friendly daughters of the Dean. Miss Howson 
 gave me a photograph of her distinguished father. 
 
 In the evening we returned from these devious 
 by-paths of Episcopacy to the plainer Presbyterian 
 highways. We were called to the Presbyterian 
 church to a meeting arranged in our honor. On the 
 way thither we stopped at the Welsh Church at the 
 request of the minister and had a rather long ad- 
 dress from the said minister, with the penalty that 
 we were late at the Presbyterian church. The min- 
 ister was much put out because the Mayor’s dep- 
 uty, who had come to give us official welcome, was 
 kept waiting. However, the atmosphere cleared 
 up. We were decorated with roses and listened to 
 four addresses, by the Presbyterian minister, by a 
 Welsh pastor, by the Moderator of the Presbytery 
 of Liverpool, and by the Mayor’s deputy. I re- 
 plied, followed by Mr. Elliot and by Dr. Landon, 
 President of the San Francisco Theological Semi- 
 nary, and one of our party. A record I made of 
 the occasion at the time says, “It was a fairly 
 stupid evening.” I suppose the seven addresses 
 were too much for me. 
 
188 CHARLES LEMUEL THOMPSON 
 
 The next morning, after going to Matthew 
 Henry’s house, having our pictures taken there, and 
 to his monument, we made the tour of the famous 
 “Walls” and then went into an ancient crypt with 
 very fine Gothic roof of manifestly very early date. 
 Alas, it had become a wine cellar! 
 
 Then through beautiful scenery down the line to 
 Oxford. ‘There we were glad to meet two of our 
 New York friends, Dr. Francis Brown and Dr. 
 Charles A. Briggs, of Union Seminary. Our stay 
 in Oxford was short, but we visited a number of 
 the colleges—St. Johns, Christ Church, Trinity, 
 Oriel and Magdalen. 
 
 After a glance at the Bodleian Library we slid 
 down to London, or up to London, as a Briton 
 would say. Soon after our arrival a notable re- 
 ception was given us. I think it was in King’s 
 Hall. Many eminent men were there. The Mod- 
 erator of the London Presbytery presided. Ad- 
 dresses were given by Dr. J. Monro Gibson, John 
 Watson (Ian Maclaren), who had come from Liv- 
 erpool especially for that occasion; the American 
 Ambassador, Hon. Thomas F. Bayard; Dr. Henry 
 M. Field (who after leaving us at Queenstown had 
 joined us in London) and myself. After a social 
 hour Dr. Carruthers made a few remarks, and a - 
 most scholarly paper was read by Principal Dykes. 
 When the Moderator took Dr. Field and me by the 
 hand the entire audience rose in cordial greeting. 
 It was an occasion long to be remembered by us all. 
 
OVERSEAS 189 
 
 The next day after a drive through the city we 
 went to a reception by the Dean of Westminster. 
 He gave us a long address (over an hour) in the 
 Jerusalem Chamber, on the Abbey and its cham- 
 bers. Of course the address was full of history, 
 most of it new to us. He then conducted us 
 through a part of the Abbey not usually open to 
 the public. 
 
 The evening of that day in the parlors of our 
 hotel was rendered delightful by the presence of 
 American friends, my old friend Dr. Oscar A. 
 Hills and Major and Mrs. Thatcher from my 
 church in Kansas City. The next morning Dr. 
 Carruthers, who had already done so much for us, 
 took us to the British Museum. Of course that 
 meant a charming forenoon. Mr. Murray, the 
 head and supreme authority on Classical Antiqui- 
 ties, took us through that department. Dr. Budge, 
 also an authority, took us through the Assyrian 
 rooms. His explanations of the Assurbanipal tab- 
 lets and cylinders was intensely interesting. Would 
 I had more record of that forenoon, for of course 
 memory cannot hold much after all these years. I 
 remember asking him in regard to the relations of 
 Moses and the early Assyrian records. He said 
 they both came, or radiated, from an earlier tradi- 
 tion. That sounded as if Dr. Budge belonged to 
 the modern critical school. Dr. Garnett, the head 
 of the Library, took us through that huge depart- 
 ment with its nearly two million books and its im- 
 
190 CHARLES LEMUEL THOMPSON 
 
 mense reading room, whose dome is as wide as St. 
 Peters. He also carried us through the history of 
 printing and through departments not open to the 
 public. We held in our hands the Bible which 
 Anne Boleyn took with her as she mounted the 
 scaffold. To have a half day within those historic 
 walls under conduct of those experts was indeed a 
 privilege. 
 
 One of the pleasant features of our London visit 
 was a tea at the home of my old Chicago friend and 
 neighbor, Dr. J. Monro Gibson. He had a very 
 successful pastorate of the Second Presbyterian 
 Church of Chicago in the seventies, then was called 
 to the St. John’s Wood Presbyterian Church in 
 London, and had many years of service there when 
 we met at his home. He easily became one of the 
 leaders of the English Presbyterian Church, active 
 in all good works and venerated alike for his intel- 
 lectual power and his spiritual influence. A few 
 years ago he retired from active service, and almost 
 as I write these words, he entered on the im- 
 mortal life. 
 
 Of course our trip took us to Canterbury. Aside 
 from our appreciation of the beautiful Cathedral, 
 the event of our visit was our reception by the 
 French pastor of the Huguenot Church, who read 
 us an address in the crypt where for three hundred 
 years this exiled little church has worshipped. 
 
 Like most travelers, we approached the Channel 
 with some qualms—not of conscience! However, 
 
OVERSEAS 191 
 
 the Calais crossing is short and the “neck of the 
 bottle” was quiet. So we had a peaceful voyage, 
 and were soon pleasantly housed in Paris, the most 
 beautiful of cities. 
 
 One of the first events was, as usual, the re- 
 ception—this time by the French Huguenot So- 
 ciety in their Library Hall. Baron De Shickler, 
 President of the Society, gave an address. The 
 Librarian gave a stereopticon lecture on the history 
 of the persecutions in the time of Francis I. 
 Pére Hyacinthe followed in a beautiful address 
 in French. 
 
 This recalls my first meeting with the Pére. It 
 was during my residence in Kansas City. We had 
 arranged a reception for him by the ministers of 
 the city. I was appointed to give an address of 
 welcome. Not sure of my French—or rather very 
 sure it would be bad—I gave it in good North 
 American English. The Pére responded in his 
 eloquent way. At the close of his address he stag- 
 gered me by taking me in his arms and kissing me 
 on both cheeks! The brethren saw my embarrass- 
 ment and rounded off the occasion with ringing 
 applause. 
 
 Another occasion of interest in the French capi- 
 tal was the unveiling, in the Rue de Rivoli, of a 
 statue of Coligny. Several addresses recalled the 
 days of the Revolution—especially that night when 
 in the palace directly opposite the statue, the French 
 King could not sleep, but walked the gilded halls 
 
192 CHARLES LEMUEL THOMPSON 
 
 in the consternation of a guilty conscience because 
 he had given orders that on the morrow the great 
 bell in San Germain l Auxerrois should sound the 
 death knell of the Huguenots. 
 
 It goes without saying that our visits to various 
 McAll Mission halls were full of interest and of 
 hope for the future of Protestantism. In the quar- 
 ter of a century since that visit to Paris the signs 
 have still more brightened, and though seen 
 through smoke clouds of the World War, there is 
 a.vision of a new France delivered from the bond- 
 age of Romanism and rising to take her full part in 
 the development of a Christian civilization. 
 
 We left Paris on a Saturday morning for the 
 long ride to Geneva. That we might have comfort 
 on the trip, we paid special fare for a first-class 
 fast train. All went well till the approach of din- 
 ner time. At Macon the train was cut intwo. The 
 sharper grade up toward the Alps called for two 
 sections. ‘The dining car was attached to the sec- 
 ond section and our section, minus a diner, pulled 
 out for the mountains. So we nursed our appe- 
 tites by thinking of what might have been and went 
 on to Geneva. There we discovered that our lug- 
 gage was also on the second section. We had to 
 wait for that. By the time we reached our hotel 
 we were fairly clamorous for food. The ways of 
 the railroad company in providing food for pas- 
 sengers were, and continue to be, past finding out. 
 This would be a good point at which to make 
 
OVERSEAS 193 
 
 bromidic remarks anent the railways, but the good 
 times I have had in Europe in spite of the railways 
 halt my pen. 
 
 Repeated visits to Geneva have not dulled the 
 fascination with which I first regarded the beauti- 
 ful city. An illustration of the confiding character 
 of the Swiss people came out when a member of 
 our party was admiring a fine Swiss watch in one 
 of the shops and expressed a desire that he might 
 have it. 
 
 “Why not take it?’ inquired the proprietor. 
 
 “T have not that much money in my pocket,” 
 was the reply. 
 
 “Why not give me your cheque? ”’ persisted the 
 proprietor. The American expressed surprise. 
 
 “T am a stranger from a far country. Do you 
 mean you would take a cheque from a nameless 
 man on a nameless bank? I would not do that in 
 New York if a European stranger came in and 
 proposed to give me a personal cheque.” 
 
 “Ah!” replied the watch-man. “ You did not 
 offer me your cheque. I should have declined it. I 
 asked you for it. You see the difference? ”’ 
 
 So my surprised friend passed in his cheque and 
 walked away with the very valuable watch. 
 
 In these notes I shall have occasion to refer again 
 to Geneva, so for the present I pass on to Inter- 
 laken and thence to Grindelwald, where we had an 
 invitation to the summer home of Mme. d’Aubigné, 
 the widow of the celebrated writer of the “ History 
 
194 CHARLES LEMUEL THOMPSON 
 
 of the Reformation.” It was a beautiful home 
 looking out on the snow-covered mountains. And 
 beautiful was the hospitality with which we were 
 received. An address by a French minister, Mr. 
 Berlier, and a response by me were followed by the 
 usual tea, and that by an interesting lecture on the 
 Glaciers by a distinguished geologist. Dr. Field 
 took my wife for an excursion over the Wengern 
 Alp while I returned to Interlaken. Our wander- 
 ings around the region of the Bernese Alps is 
 ground so familiar that I pass without a mention 
 our trip over the Brinig Pass on to Lucerne (where 
 we had the only poor hotel in our travels), around 
 the lake and up the Rigi, and so on to Heidelberg 
 and Mainz and finally Cologne. But as we found 
 no Presbyterian headquarters along that route there 
 is nothing for our Pilgrims to record. 
 
 We found our next reception in dear old Hol- 
 land. At Amsterdam we were received by a com- 
 mittee of ministers and proceeded to the “ Old 
 Church,” where Dr. Field and I responded to the 
 very friendly greetings of the Hollanders. Thence 
 to the “ New Church,” more a cathedral than a 
 church, full of beautiful carvings and monuments 
 of Dutch heroes. It is the church where the Queen 
 worships when in the city. Dr. Thompson, who 
 for many years had been the pastor of the English 
 Church, was our guide. On this historic spot, the 
 persecuted Pilgrims worshipped during the dozen 
 years of their exile. 
 
OVERSEAS 195 
 
 After a day or two in Amsterdam we retraced 
 our steps to Leyden. The old University attracted 
 us first. How young we felt as we saw the towers 
 and walls which were old when Columbus discov- 
 ered America. John Robinson’s house was not far 
 away. ‘There was the tablet placed there by the 
 American Congregational Churches. Twenty-five 
 years later (in 1920) I was in Leyden again. How 
 few were the changes. From our mercurial Ameri- 
 can life to that which from age to age keeps the 
 slow, serene and peaceful way, what a contrast! 
 What questions the contrast raises! Is it well to 
 drive through the world at the American pace? Or 
 do the sleepy barges on the Leyden canals suggest 
 a wiser and more restful use of time? 
 
 The homecoming had in it little worthy of notice, 
 unless the sharpest gale I ever experienced may call 
 for mention, or the farewell meeting in the cabin 
 as we approached Sandy Hook. The friendships 
 formed on such a voyage are not easily broken. 
 Many of them remain to this day. They found 
 some expression at the meeting in toasts, songs and 
 speeches. Among them, these verses may find a 
 place: 
 
 LYING AT THE Bar. 
 
 The exile has been long, 
 And broad, too broad the sea, 
 Across the which my longing heart 
 Has beaten heavily. 
 
196 
 
 CHARLES LEMUEL THOMPSON 
 
 And now the sunset falls 
 On western hills afar; 
 
 But the sails are down, the tide is out, 
 We are lying at the bar. 
 
 And on beyond the sunset gates 
 Another land I ween; 
 
 And for its friends my exiled heart 
 Hath longings deep and keen. 
 
 Oh! silent tide, when comest thou 
 Beyond yon evening star? 
 
 My. thoughts, my hopes are pe on,— 
 I am lying at the bar. 
 
XIV 
 FURTHER WANDERINGS 
 
WIRELESS. 
 
 Said Marcom: I will fing my word 
 Over the restless sea and the land; 
 And he who is in tune with me, 
 He only shall understand. 
 
 Said the poet: From my heart a throb 
 
 Beats o’er the waves to the farthest strand; 
 And he whose soul with my soul is one, 
 
 He only shall understand. 
 
XIV 
 FURTHER WANDERINGS 
 
 NE winter my wife and I joined a delight- 
 ful company of people for a Mediterranean 
 tour, taking with us our young daughter, 
 
 Sydney. Our first stop was at the Island of Ma- 
 deira, one of the quaintest of places. It has to me 
 one unpleasant memory. That the tour might be 
 pictorially preserved I had equipped myself with a 
 fine camera. I left it for a few moments on some 
 presumably safe resting place. When I returned it 
 had been appropriated. How the blame is to be 
 divided between the temptation too strong for a 
 native and my own carelessness I have not tried to 
 balance. A small compensation for my loss was 
 the fun we had in sleighing without snow in sleds 
 drawn by bullocks, and with runners well oiled to 
 serve instead of snow, and also in riding down the 
 mountain in similar sleds propelled at a rather 
 alarming rate by gravity. Charles, the deposed 
 monarch of the Austrian throne, found an enforced 
 residence on that Island before his death. If one 
 must be a prisoner, it were hard to find a more de- 
 lightful spot. 
 
 This voyage gave us our only touch on Spain. 
 Landing at Cadiz, a train ride to Seville, dight 
 
 199 
 
200 CHARLES LEMUEL THOMPSON 
 
 with quaint buildings and quaint people, then to 
 Granada for flying views of the Alhambra which, 
 as with Washington Irving, should have had years, 
 and then down through the middle of Spain to 
 Gibraltar, constituted days not easily forgotten. 
 Not in many parts of the world are romance and 
 history so brilliantly-blended. 
 
 A voyage on the Mediterranean is a perpetual 
 luxury—on waters usually placid and under skies 
 like those which hang over Italy. I do not forget. 
 that Paul had his troubles there—(not to forget 
 Jonah who, whatever may be said of the whale, is 
 an undoubted historic character) ; but such experi- 
 ences may be classed with bad weather in Cali- 
 fornia—wholly exceptional. 
 
 The approach to Constantinople is much more 
 beautiful than the city. The general and distant 
 views of its palaces, towers and minarets leave 
 nothing to be desired. It is rather a pity the trav- 
 eler cannot be content with the far and general 
 view—steam up into the Black Sea past the towers 
 of Europe and Asia and then swing back to “ the 
 many nationed sea.” The inspection of the city 
 brings many disenchantments. Squalor, yellow 
 dogs (since shipped to an island to die), latticed 
 windows where beautiful prisoners struggle for a 
 glimpse of mankind, and general disrepair are the 
 outstanding features which one carries in mind. 
 And then one’s unfortunate memory of centuries 
 of oppression and cruelty combine to make one 
 
FURTHER WANDERINGS 201 
 
 willing to take ship again. But there are two 
 beauty spots which no traveler should miss—Rob- 
 ert College on its stately eminence above the city, 
 where hundreds of boys from many nationalities 
 are having a chance, and the Constantinople 
 Woman’s College across the Bosphorus in Asia 
 six miles from the city (now moved to the Euro- 
 pean side). Here fifty American teachers are in- 
 terpreting to four or five hundred students from 
 twenty different nationalities the ideals of Chris- 
 tian womanhood. These two beacon-lights give 
 hope for the tortured East. 
 
 Our visit at Smyrna was rendered pleasant by 
 the fact that the American Consul there was a 
 friend of my wife. When our ship cast anchor a 
 gorgeously uniformed official of the Consulate ap- 
 peared with a special boat to take us ashore. Once 
 there we were received with more than official cor- 
 diality. The Consul had married a Greek lady of 
 that city, which gave us entrée into a beautiful 
 native home—and views of the town not otherwise 
 so easily seen. A train of camels passing slowly 
 down the main street, laden with tapestries and 
 spices from the far interior, was our first intima- 
 tion that we had indeed come into the Orient. 
 
 Skillful rowing by Arabic boatmen between 
 rocks on which Andromeda was supposed to have 
 been chained, marked our entrance to the Holy 
 Land at the venerable city of Joppa. We were 
 ready to accept at face value all the historic tales 
 
202 CHARLES LEMUEL THOMPSON 
 
 with which our guides regaled us.) Why not? We 
 had come there to get in vivific touch with memo- 
 rable ages and why then take the edge off of the 
 romance with foolish criticisms which any one 
 could make! So that house yonder not far from 
 the sea was the identical spot where Peter had the 
 great dream which led him to call no man unclean. 
 An unspeakable thrill struck us when our train 
 slowed down on the southern border of Jerusalem 
 and we saw the age old towers rise before us. The 
 dream of my life was being realized—we were 
 passing through the Gate of David and were within 
 the sacred walls. But the disenchantment came 
 soon. It was the city over which Jesus wept, and 
 which was sad and desolate enough still to draw the 
 tears of any who had dreamed of its glory. There 
 were many marks of a history which no degrada- 
 tion could wholly obscure and no destructive 
 changes could wholly obliterate. There were the 
 identical walls where Jews of all lands came to 
 weep; there was the garden of the Master’s agony 
 and the hill of His sacrifice, and there above the 
 city was the Bethany that gave Him who had no 
 home the one welcome of love and sympathy. 
 How often must He have gazed on the beautiful 
 distant hills of Moab, with the Jordan like a silver 
 thread gleaming in the valley. But the physical 
 ruins and the mental gloom and despair were every- 
 where apparent. “‘ How often,” and she would not, 
 and now indeed she is a city desolate. What is in 
 
FURTHER WANDERINGS 203 
 
 store for her since General Allenby’s army has en- 
 camped around her and Christian powers have 
 hoped for a new life for Palestine? Perhaps the 
 day of her promised glory may sometime dawn. 
 An interesting experience waited us at Alexan- 
 dria. The ship had barely anchored when quite a 
 family of Greeks came in search of us. A Greek 
 boy in elevator service in our Presbyterian Build- 
 ing in New York had notified an uncle in Alex- 
 andria that we were coming. In what exaggerated 
 terms I do not know. But we were received in 
 right royal fashion. The “uncle” to whom we 
 were commended was evidently a man of affairs. 
 We had a taste of the finest Greco-Egyptian hospi- 
 tality. We were urged to stay for a month or a 
 year and it was with difficulty we were able to de- 
 cline an invitation to his country place somewhere 
 up in Egypt. Conversation was, of course, through 
 an interpreter, except that one of the sons was able 
 to understand our halting French. Before we left 
 I invited this young man some day to come to New 
 York. I had no thought he would ever accept the 
 invitation, but we had been home but a short time 
 when he appeared. Though the son of a wealthy 
 man, so strongly was he taken by New York that 
 he accepted service in our building and became per- 
 manently an American. At Christmas time he ap- 
 peared in my office with an inlaid box tied with a 
 blue ribbon and containing two thousand Egyptian 
 cigarettes, a present from his father. They would 
 
204 CHARLES LEMUEL THOMPSON 
 
 have lasted me for indefinite years, but I had many 
 friends. An increasing number indeed, and so the 
 beautiful cigarettes disappeared. 
 
 I anticipated the approach to Cairo with peculiar 
 pleasure. For there I was to meet my lifelong 
 friend, Dr. Andrew Watson, of the United Pres- 
 byterian Mission. Though college mates in Car- 
 roll College and roommates in Princeton, we had 
 not met for many years, as he was giving all his life 
 to Egypt. So we had a good time. I preached to 
 his Arabic congregation and greatly enjoyed seeing 
 the evidences of the good work he had done. He 
 has recently gone Home full of years and honors. 
 
 Very few go to Cairo without going up the great 
 river. To Luxor we went by train—an English 
 railway equipped about as it would be in England. 
 From Luxor, with its mile of great columns declar- 
 ing the glorious days of the Pharaohs, we went 
 with donkeys over the desert to the tombs of the 
 Kings at Thebes. I think that was the most as- 
 tounding revelation of anything we encountered in 
 our long journey. The long approach to the tombs, 
 down decorated ramps, prepared one for the tre- 
 mendous halls in which the Kings lie entombed. 
 There they lie in plain view in their cerements of 
 thousands of years—in vaults and catacombs bril- 
 liantly lit with electric lights. The lights were the 
 last thing in modern science. The decorations they 
 revealed were four thousand years old, the colors as 
 fresh apparently as when first laid. There were no 
 
FURTHER WANDERINGS 205 
 
 electric lights to enable the artists to work. They 
 could not have worked in the dark, nor yet with 
 smoking torches. How did they do it? Science 
 answers many questions. I think it has not an- 
 swered that question. 
 
 An incident touching that ride over the desert is 
 worth a mention. Several years ago, during the 
 Presidency of Theodore Roosevelt, I was preaching 
 one summer Sunday in Oyster Bay. The Presi- 
 dent was at church and invited me to dine with 
 him. In a moment’s lull at the table, I turned to 
 young Archie (at that time about twelve years old) 
 and said, ‘‘ Archie, I believe I will tell you a story.” 
 The table listened to the story I would tell the boy. 
 
 “A short time ago I was in Egypt,’ I said. “I 
 had gone there to get in touch with ages long gone. 
 Instead I was in the midst of a good deal of modern 
 civilization—English hotels and railroads, and even 
 electricity lighting up the mummies of Kings. But 
 as we rode over the desert we seemed to be getting 
 back where I longed to be—nothing but deserts and 
 ruined temples. It seemed as if we might even see 
 Moses somewhere among the ruins. Then I turned 
 to the little Arab, who was driving my donkey, and 
 said, 
 
 “* Boy, what is my donkey’s name?’ 
 
 “Quick as a flash he replied, “Hish name ish 
 Teddy.’ ” 
 
 The family burst into laughter in which the 
 President joined heartily. When the laugh had 
 
206 CHARLES LEMUEL THOMPSON 
 
 somewhat subsided Archie spoke up in a drawling 
 voice, “ Well, I guess in about two years that 
 donkey will have another name.” 
 
 The wife of the Episcopal rector seemed to feel 
 that the President was getting it rather hard, so she 
 remarked, ‘“ But I think Teddy is a name that 
 will last.’ . 
 
 “And J think Archie has the right of it,’ Mrs. 
 Roosevelt said. 
 
 Our journey was continued up the Nile past the 
 beautiful submerged temple of Phile to the first 
 cataract, and to the great dam, which English skill 
 has built. The marvels of nature and of science 
 there apparent made impressions never to be lost. 
 There is little more of that trip to be recorded. A 
 visit to my son Vance, then living in San Remo, 
 and the homeward journey with several stops in 
 Europe completed experiences of many kinds never 
 to be effaced. Not the least of which were the 
 friendships we formed. ‘They have gone on into 
 all subsequent years and constitute the best output 
 of the long voyage. 
 
 My next touch on Europe was in 1910. The oc- 
 casion was the great ecumenical Foreign Mission- 
 ary Conference in Edinburgh, to which I had been 
 chosen a delegate. It was the largest and most sig- 
 nificant gathering of missionaries from all com- 
 munions and from nearly all lands—a delegation of 
 about two thousand. For ten days the great ques- 
 tions connected with missionary life and adminis- 
 
FURTHER WANDERINGS 207 
 
 tration were discussed by experts who had come 
 prepared to give the best that was in them to the 
 furthering of closer fellowship and more effective 
 cooperation. It had no reference to a union of 
 denominations, but rather to a union of plans and 
 service. 
 
 At the close of the convention a Continuation 
 Committee was appointed to gather up and organ- 
 ize the accumulations of knowledge and experience 
 to the end that Foreign Missions might get a new 
 and stronger grip on the consciousness and con- 
 science of the Church at large. That Committee 
 still functions and while it were difficult to try to 
 measure its influence toward the ends it seeks there 
 can be no doubt that the irenic spirit of that con- 
 ference is still felt through all branches of the 
 Christian Church. 
 
 After leaving the Conference, we went to Paris 
 to visit my son Vance. I was scheduled to preach 
 for several Sundays in the American Chapel there. 
 I, however, signalized my arrival by slipping on the 
 waxed stairs of my son’s house and falling with a 
 crash to the bottom. A doctor came promptly and 
 discovered nothing more serious than a broken 
 ligament in my side. It gave abundant pain and I 
 was confined to the bed for several days, but this 
 was Saturday night, and the question was how to 
 get hold of a preacher for the next day. I did not 
 know the address of anyone in Paris who could 
 locate a minister, the only thing to do was to send 
 
208 CHARLES LEMUEL THOMPSON 
 
 my wife and daughter to church early with the in- 
 structions to stand by the church doors and catch 
 anyone who looked like a minister! 
 
 This they did with such success that they caught 
 three—Drs. Burrell, Mendenhall and Swift, who 
 each spoke for ten minutes. Fortunately it was the 
 third of July, and no American is ever at a loss as 
 to what to say as the Fourth approaches. But I 
 always told those brothers that it took three of them 
 to fill my place. 
 
 Somewhat later we wandered off into Germany, 
 our objective being the Passion Play at Oberam- 
 mergau. My notes say, “The play was great. 
 Hard strain on mind and heart. The emotions are 
 much stirred. It was reverently done, and the im- 
 pression is good.” 
 
 We found a comfortable home with one of the 
 Pharisees. As we got out of our carriage, a fat 
 and comely German maiden came to help us. I 
 wished to greet her pleasantly, so I remarked with 
 great distinctness, 
 
 “ It-is-a-pleasant-day.”’ 
 
 ‘Yes,’ she replied briskly, “but yesterday it 
 rained to beat the band.” | 
 
 “Hello!” I exclaimed, “where did you get 
 that?” 
 
 “Oh,” she said, “ I used to live in Hoboken.” 
 
 There were many interesting days later in the 
 haunts of Luther, of Goethe and Schiller, but 
 nothing worth mentioning except that at Mainz, 
 
FURTHER WANDERINGS 209 
 
 after watching the Kaiser review thirty thousand 
 troops, we waited on the corner of a street to see 
 him come riding down, with his staff at a smart gal- 
 lop. It was a fine sight, but after he had passed I 
 missed my pocketbook. It had evidently been taken 
 at the moment of highest excitement. 
 
 Fortunately it had only five dollars in it, (though 
 there were other things of value in it) and consid- 
 ering all the Kaiser has done since, I incline to 
 think he was cheap at that price. 
 
 I went abroad again in 1914 on a most signifi- 
 cant mission. For years the international atmos- 
 phere had been charged with ominous signs of war. 
 The diplomats of the old world were nervous. But 
 there was no thought of immediate war. To finda 
 firmer basis for international peace it was proposed 
 by Church leaders in England and America to call 
 together representatives from many nations to try 
 to find a basis of world friendship. A Conference 
 was called to meet in the venerable city of Con- 
 stance, in Germany, on August first. I was again 
 one of the delegates. My wife and daughter and I 
 anticipated the meeting by a month in Switzerland. 
 The month was spent mainly among the Bernese 
 Alps and was enlivened by a visit from my son 
 Vance, who was living in France. Specially fine 
 was the automobile ride on which he took us from 
 Grindelwald to Berne, the special object of which 
 was to get my signature to a conveyance of title to 
 a farm he had owned in Colebrook, Connecticut, 
 
210 CHARLES LEMUEL THOMPSON 
 
 near my summer home. That errand was speedily 
 accomplished, but the all day ride among those 
 glorious scenes remains a permanent possession. 
 
 We reached Constance on the last day of July 
 and were challenged for our passports as we stepped 
 from the train. It was the first intimation of 
 trouble. We knew, of course, of the assassinations 
 in Serbia. But away up in the Alps we had learned 
 little of the storm that was brewing. With eighty 
 other delegates we were quartered in the hotel made 
 famous by having been the monastery where John 
 Huss, five hundred years before, had been tried and 
 condemned. On Sunday we became conscious that 
 the clouds had gathered. Final messages were 
 passing back and forth between the Chancellaries 
 of Europe. I remember it was on that morning 
 that Dr. Thomas C. Hall, from New York, a mem- 
 ber of the Conference, showed me a telegram from 
 his wife at Gottingen begging him to come home, 
 as several soldiers had been quartered on them. 
 He took train at once. It was the last time I saw 
 him. He is now a citizen of Germany and during 
 the war was, of course, ea: committed to the 
 German cause. 
 
 That Sunday evening we held the first formal 
 meeting of the Conference. It was an hour of 
 devotions. We were not sure of what was coming. 
 The Assistant Court preacher from Berlin went 
 down to police headquarters to get at the situation. 
 At eleven o’clock he returned with the startling 
 
FURTHER WANDERINGS 211 
 
 news that we must leave at nine o'clock in the morn- 
 ing or we could not go at all. All trains would be 
 in the hands of the army. Mobilization had begun. 
 Then came our difficulty. We counted our money 
 and found we hadn’t enough to pay our hotel bills 
 or to buy tickets to London. All banks were closed. 
 We went to the proprietor of the hotel with our 
 dilemma. He was a Swiss and very kind. 
 
 “You go,” he said. “‘ My servants are leaving. 
 I must close the hotel. If you get money you can 
 send it to me.”’ 
 
 “But,” we continued, “we have not money 
 enough to buy our tickets. Our drafts are no 
 good.”’ 
 
 The good fellow went out into the town and bor- 
 rowed enough to supplement our meager means, so 
 that we could get away to London. In the morn- 
 ing that good friend sent eighty lunches and bottles 
 of Apollinaris to the train that we might have 
 something to eat and drink during the day. But 
 we never got a bite of the one or a drink of the 
 other. It was to follow us with our baggage on a 
 second section. The soldiers took it all. 
 
 Our train was so crowded that we were full of 
 discomfort and of course we were hungry. Now 
 and then a friend who had a few pennies left 
 brought in a loaf of bread and parcelled it out. 
 The signs of the impending conflict were all about 
 us—soldiers guarding every bridge and ordering 
 train windows closed for fear we should throw out 
 
212 CHARLES LEMUEL THOMPSON 
 
 bombs, and artillery wagons rattling through the 
 towns, soldiers mounted thereon like stone images. 
 We had been guaranteed protection to Cologne. 
 What would happen there we did not know. Our 
 German preacher (the only German at the Confer- 
 ence) had gone with us to Cologne to help us on. 
 At the station he charged us to sit silent in our cars 
 or, if ordered to get out, to sit silent on the plat- 
 form while he went to headquarters to see what he 
 could do. He came back cheerful. It was near 
 midnight and our “ protection” had expired, but 
 he had succeeded in getting a special order to run 
 us down to the border of Holland. At three o’clock 
 in the night, in a driving storm, we changed to a 
 Dutch train and in the morning were in Flushing, 
 where a crowded and unlovely steamer took us on 
 board, and after a perilous dodging of mines (with 
 which the sea was already sown) landed us on 
 English soil. 
 
 It was night when we reached Victoria Station. 
 Trafalgar Square as far as one could see was a 
 solid block of people. ‘‘ What is all this?” we in- 
 quired, and were told England’s ultimatum had 
 gone to Berlin, and London was holding its breath. 
 Would it be peace or war? Presently the great 
 bells of the city struck the hour. The die was cast. 
 The time set in the ultimatum had expired. En- 
 gland was at war with Germany. 
 
 There is little else to record of that trip. We 
 were present in the House of Commons when a 
 
FURTHER WANDERINGS 213 
 
 famous decision was made concerning the Irish 
 question. We had tea once or twice on the Parlia- 
 ment Terrace with some of the members, one of 
 whom was J. Allen Baker, a well known Quaker, 
 who had been prominent in the Peace Conference. 
 Later we were with him in his beautiful home on 
 the outskirts of London, and went with him to the 
 Friends’ Burying Ground, where lie Isaac Watts 
 and Bunyan and others who have left their imprint 
 on the world. 
 
 After some exciting days in London, we fled to 
 the peace of Broadway, a picturesque old town 
 where we had some friends. The Inn there, dating 
 back three hundred years, is a veritable museum, 
 with its beautiful old furniture. It is a rather ex- 
 clusive place, too, and it was somewhat disturbing 
 to the proprietor to have several Americans sud- 
 denly descend upon him without the formality of 
 previous notice. His desire to fill up his vacant 
 rooms forbade his turning us away, but his pride 
 required that he should make very clear to us that 
 his place always was full, and that if it had not 
 been for the fact of war, causing his patrons to 
 cancel their reservations, there would not have been 
 the slightest chance for us. 
 
 In 1920, several occasions called me to Europe. 
 After our flight from Germany, in 1914, those of 
 us who could do so met in London to consummate 
 the work we had intended to do in Constance, 
 namely to organize the World Alliance for Interna- 
 
214 CHARLES LEMUEL THOMPSON 
 
 tional Friendship, an organization made possible 
 by Mr. Carnegie’s large gifts toward the cause 
 of peace. Then came the war and we could not 
 hold another meeting so long as that world horror 
 lasted. So we planned to meet for that purpose 
 in St. Beatenberg, in Switzerland. The same 
 year two other functions appeared. One was a 
 Conference on Faith and Order, convening in 
 Geneva. The other was the European celebra- 
 tion of the landing of the Pilgrims in 1620. I was 
 appointed a delegate to both of these. 
 
 My wife and I sailed for England in July. A 
 severe cold kept me housed in London for a week, 
 making me miss a few appointments. I preached, 
 however, in the Dulwich Church morning and 
 evening early in August, and the next day we went 
 on to Paris, by a prosaic channel steamer, while 
 our friend, Hamilton Holt, who had come over to 
 England on the same steamer with us, was flying 
 over our heads in the clear blue sky of a lovely day. 
 But I will wait for that till I get my own wings. 
 
 Unable to get a sleeping car to Geneva for sev- 
 eral days, my wife spent one day on the battle- 
 fields. I missed that because my cold still lingered. 
 However, we finally reached Geneva, where the 
 first person to greet us was my son Vance, who had 
 come up from Nice to have a week with us. 
 
 The Conference began the next day—a notable 
 gathering of church dignitaries from many lands 
 —called on motion of the Lambeth Conference to 
 
FURTHER WANDERINGS 215 
 
 consider ways and means of church union. The 
 spirit of those days was all that could be desired. 
 But some hurdles appeared which we found diffi- 
 cult to get over, notably the question of church 
 orders. We could agree on a simple creed. We 
 were all weary of the cumbersome creeds of the 
 creed-making ages. We found no great difficulty 
 in church sacraments. But when it came to a 
 union in church orders, involving the validity of 
 non-Episcopal ordination, then our troubles began. 
 There is no need here of going into the discussions 
 of those days. Enough to say that the Episcopal 
 Church went farther than it had ever gone before, 
 but yet not far enough to satisfy most of the Non- 
 conformist brethren. The outcome was a set of 
 resolutions expressing the importance of church 
 union, the delightful spirit of Christian fellowship 
 that had abounded and the purpose to keep on 
 thinking and praying and hoping. Anyhow, some 
 progress had been made and it seemed to be a pre- 
 cursor of better times. 
 
 Before the World Alliance meeting, we had a 
 few days for recreation in the Alps. We had re- 
 peatedly been among the mountains around Inter- 
 laken but never up to Murren. We had a delightful 
 day and night on that summit of tremendous view. 
 I know of nothing in the Alps or in other moun- 
 tains I have visited comparable to the magnificence 
 of the panorama spread out before the visitor to 
 Mirren. There the whole Bernese Oberland 
 
216 CHARLES LEMUEL THOMPSON 
 
 swings into view—a sort of revolving scene—as 
 range after range is followed. The wonderful 
 Sabbath amid those white-robed priests prepared us 
 for the peaceful and beautiful days that followed 
 at St. Beatenberg. There were church representa- 
 tives from many lands, including Germany. We 
 were so near the War, and its memories were still 
 so painful, that the presence of French and German 
 delegates in the same room came very near a clash. 
 The French demanded, as a condition of their re- 
 maining, that the Germans should plead guilty to 
 the war. The Germans declined, unless the French 
 would also plead guilty. There came an impasse. 
 It was finally evaded by the proposition of the 
 French that they would meet the Germans in con- 
 ference 1f we would enter their protest on our 
 records. This was done and then at least a super- 
 ficial peace reigned. 
 
 A most interesting phase of the discussions on a 
 world in friendship was the presence with us of 
 quite a delegation of the Greek Catholic Church. 
 (Several of them had been also in Geneva.) Their 
 desire for closer relations with Protestant Chris- 
 tianity was marked and emphatic. They declared 
 they were much nearer to us than to the Roman 
 Catholic Church. They even raised the question of 
 union. This movement has made further progress 
 in the last few years. During a recent summer the 
 newly elected Patriarch of Constantinople, His 
 Holiness Meletrios, visited our country on a mis- 
 
FURTHER WANDERINGS 217 
 
 sion of friendship and appeared in many Protestant 
 congregations to plead for closer fellowship. 
 Events in the Near East (into which I cannot go 
 here) have inspired many forward-looking people 
 with the hope that Divine Providence may be shap- 
 ing a shaken world to bring His people into solider 
 ranks to bring in the Kingdom. 
 
 The Mayflower celebrations were scheduled in 
 Europe for Holland and England. Both had made 
 elaborate preparations. The Dutch felt a fatherly 
 interest in the Pilgrims. It was in their land that 
 they imbibed the principles of Dutch freedom in 
 church and state. So we had a warm welcome in 
 Holland. Queen Wilhelmina invited the American 
 and English delegates to her summer home. Our 
 train was late, so we missed that function, but those 
 who attended were loud in their praises of the very 
 gracious and cordial ways in which Her Majesty 
 welcomed her guests. There were three great re- 
 ligious meetings arranged in the three cathedral 
 churches—in Amsterdam, Rotterdam and Leyden. 
 In each place the audiences were immense. The 
 singing by well trained choruses was an inspiration. 
 Although not all of the audience could understand 
 our addresses, they were all aware of the signifi- 
 cance of the great assemblies and entered with en- 
 thusiasm into all the services. 
 
 Several social functions were given us by the 
 University of Leyden, and by the authorities of 
 the town. There were also large and elegant ban- 
 
218 CHARLES LEMUEL THOMPSON 
 
 quets in Amsterdam and Rotterdam. At the 
 Hague we were given a luncheon by the American 
 minister, Mr. Phillips, where we met many dis- 
 tinguished English and American people, among 
 them Elihu Root, who was at the Hague for the 
 purpose of helping to set up an international court. 
 
 We were present.at two of the celebrations in 
 England. ‘The most spectacular one was at Ply- 
 mouth, the port of Pilgrim departure. For several 
 days there were pageants, speeches, dinners and 
 motor tours. To us the most interesting occasion 
 was at a tea given by Lady Astor on Lord Morley’s 
 magnificent estate a few miles out of Plymouth. 
 There were a couple of hundred guests. A pleas- 
 ant incident was our talk with Lady Astor, at 
 whose table we happened to be seated. Earl Read- 
 ing, then Lord Chief Justice, and Lady Reading 
 were at the same little table. I was seated beside 
 Lady Astor and soon discovered she was inclined to 
 be very sociable, she being also an American. At 
 one of the meetings she had occasion to defend her 
 native state, Virginia, and to declare the celebration 
 should not have been in honor of the Pilgrim Fath- 
 ers so much as in honor of the earlier migration to 
 Virginia. Was not Virginia the land of George 
 Washington and Thomas Jefferson?—and so on. 
 At the tea table I was bold enough to challenge her 
 speech and to maintain the historic rights of Massa- 
 chusetts. So the banter went back and forth. 
 Vance had given me a new hat in Geneva. I gave 
 
FURTHER WANDERINGS 219 
 
 her the hat and my fountain pen and asked her to 
 honor it and me with her autograph. ‘This she 
 very willingly did to the evident amusement of the 
 Lord Chief Justice and others. When we came to 
 say good-bye, she said, “ Now that I know you I 
 am a convert to Massachusetts.”’ 
 
 An amusing sequence to this talk occurred when, 
 on writing to my daughter, Sydney, I recounted the 
 incident briefly, and wound up by saying I had 
 “converted Lady Astor to Mass.’”’ On my return I 
 was somewhat amused to find that my daughter 
 had been mystified to know why I should have con- 
 verted Lady Astor to Roman Catholicism! Later, 
 when my daughter went to London for the purpose 
 of giving a few recitals, Lady Astor entertained 
 her at her home and at tea on the terrace of the 
 House of Commons. 
 
 The other great Mayflower meeting we attended 
 was in Albert Hall in London, where ten thousand 
 people were gathered to do honor to the Pilgrims. 
 I could not refrain from saying to a few English- 
 men how very remarkable were the English demon- 
 strations when one remembered that the Pilgrims 
 fled from England because they could not endure 
 the religious restrictions that were put upon them. 
 The rejoinder to my ungracious remark was suf- 
 ficient. ‘‘ Ah, but that was three hundred years 
 ago!” Almost anything can happen in three hun- 
 dred years. 
 
 Among the choicest recollections of our sojourn 
 
220 CHARLES LEMUEL THOMPSON 
 
 in England were the pleasant personal acquaint- 
 ances we made. Especially did we enjoy renewing 
 our fellowship with dear Dr. Jowett,* both in his 
 church and in his home at Croyden. His bow then 
 still abode in strength. I think his great heart 
 sometimes longed for the fellowships ‘he had in 
 New York. : 
 
 Our voyage home was also pleasant because of 
 the agreeable people we met. Among them [ be- 
 came more intimately acquainted with Bishop 
 Talbot, of the Protestant Episcopal Diocese of 
 Pennsylvania. We threshed over again the grist 
 of the Lambeth Conference and agreed if Episcopal 
 ordination was a pretty stiff hurdle we would do 
 the best we could to get around it. We came home 
 to finish the summer at our delightful Orchard 
 Nook at Norfolk. As that holds so large a part 
 of my heart I may speak of it later. 
 
 But while rambling along about overseas ex- 
 periences, I may as well give a touch to my 
 trip as delegate to the Congress on Christian 
 Work in Latin America held in Panama, in Febru- 
 ary, 1916. 
 
 It was a memorable meeting of Christian forces 
 from North and South America, called in the hope 
 of making closer bonds between the peoples North 
 and South, and for the purpose of forming more 
 adequate and cooperative plans for Christian ad- 
 
 * Dr. John Henry Jowett. 
 
FURTHER WANDERINGS 221 
 
 vance. Robert E. Speer was the Chairman, and 
 the Executive Secretary was the Rev. S. G. In- 
 man, whose name has been so closely associated 
 with work among the Latin peoples to the south 
 of us. 
 
 My work in this connection was as chairman of 
 the Commission on Cooperation and the Promotion 
 of Unity, which has so long been a theme of vital 
 interest to me. 
 
 The Conference was a pronounced success both 
 in the representative character of the delegates and 
 in the spirit of unity which marked the utterances 
 of the men and women gathered there from the 
 twenty-one republics whose flags floated over us as 
 we talked together. 
 
 We thoroughly enjoyed the fellowship, as of 
 course we enjoyed the wonders of the Canal, our 
 trip upon it, and our various views of the sur- 
 roundings of that little strip of United States land 
 that binds the two oceans. 
 
 On the return voyage our boat stopped for a day 
 at Bocas del Toro, a rather busy little town (for 
 the tropics), and then at Almarante, where we 
 watched forty thousand bunches of bananas being 
 loaded on the ship. We also went by train into the 
 banana district, and over the river into Costa Rico, 
 passing through miles of jungle largely filled with 
 crocodiles, snakes and monkeys, but with many 
 pretty clearings for the homes of the workers. 
 After seeing more banana farms than I thought 
 
222 CHARLES LEMUEL THOMPSON 
 
 existed, we returned to the boat and continued on 
 our way north. 
 
 One morning there was much excitement on 
 board—it takes so little to create excitement on 
 board ship—because of mysterious signaling from 
 a sail boat. We hove to and found that they were 
 seventeen days out from Colon, no food or water. 
 Our Captain supplied them bountifully from his 
 stores, and gave them their reckoning. 
 
 A number of us stopped at Havana for a three 
 days’ conference to apply somewhat the projects 
 for cooperative missionary service agreed upon 
 at Panama. It was one of seven regional con- 
 ferences to be held in various Latin-American 
 countries. 
 
 My notes say—‘ We have had a great confer- 
 ence, one hundred and twenty in attendance, per- 
 fect harmony. I presided almost continuously, yet 
 was not over tired, sleep well, and eat anything (1 
 am allowed to!) It was a rare occasion.” 
 
 Among the plans for united work in Cuba, the 
 one which promised most immediate results was 
 one for a common church in Havana for Americans 
 of all denominations. I am sorry to say that after 
 years of waiting, that fine dream is still in the 
 clouds. Denominational hurdles are hard to get 
 over. But they are getting lower. Several years 
 ago Dr. Robert FE. Speer and I were speaking at 
 the centennial of one of the churches in Albany. 
 In the course of his address Dr. Speer said: “ Per- 
 
 i gg 
 
FURTHER WANDERINGS 223 
 
 haps in a hundred years from now there will not be 
 any Presbyterians.” 
 
 At Panama, in the course of an address on 
 church union, I turned to Dr. Speer, who was pre- 
 siding, and said, “A few years ago, Dr. Speer, I 
 heard you say, ‘ Perhaps in a hundred years there 
 will not be any Presbyterians.’ Do you stand by 
 that remark now?” 
 
 His reply was, “ Yes, but now I will shorten the 
 time.”’ 
 
 Only a broad vision of the coming of the King- 
 dom could inspire such a remark. 
 

 
XV 
 ORCHARD NOOK 
 
THE BELLE \OR TAR HILLS, 
 
 Heavy the shadows gird me round, 
 And a mist the valley fills— 
 
 But out of the dimness and the doubt 
 I lift mine eyes to the hills. 
 
 Benign they rise in their surpliced robes— 
 Those purpled priests of God— 
 
 And I firmly walk on the shaded road 
 Where falteringly I trod. 
 
 Their fronded brows speak majesty— 
 Their breasts with peace aglow— 
 
 Their streams are messages of life 
 To vales and fields below. 
 
 The harvests flash along the plain, 
 The land with plenty thrills, 
 So—thankful to the God of help— 
 I lift mine eyes to the hills. 
 
 O, fair and blessed hills of God, 
 To you our eyes are lift! 
 
 In you a grateful nation owns 
 Heaven's dateless, priceless gift. 
 
 So long ye rise above our plains, 
 So long your blessings fall,— 
 
 Our praise ascends to Him who reigns 
 In goodness over all. 
 
XV 
 ORCHARD NOOK 
 
 AM sitting on the side veranda. The vines 
 
 have circled far out on the electric wire that 
 
 reaches to the road. A robin full-red-breasted 
 is hopping across the lawn, a red squirrel is prac- 
 tising his morning gymnastics up and down the 
 great maples that shadow the lawn. A song spar- 
 row is tuning up on an apple tree, the young leaves 
 are out on the trees. All nature is up and doing 
 for another riot of color and sound and beauty in 
 the on-coming summer. Far down the valley to 
 the north rises the stately summit of Mount Ever- 
 ett, the southern sentinel of the Berkshire range. 
 Over my shoulder comes the prattling of the wood- 
 land brook, laughing for very joy of tumbling from 
 rock to rock on the way to the valley. Beyond the 
 brook deepen the woods in which once with a dis- 
 tinguished novelist I was lost—lost within rifle shot 
 of the fairest village that slumbers among the New 
 England hills. 
 
 This is the twenty-fourth summer that I have 
 watched and rejoiced in this sight, have looked 
 down across the meadow yellowing in dandelions, 
 and up to Haystack mountain, slowly but grandly 
 
 227 
 
228 CHARLES LEMUEL THOMPSON 
 
 putting on its robes of green, green of various 
 shades in poplar, birch, chestnut and oak. 
 
 I am thinking back over the years. I will even 
 recount some of the steps by which the scene and 
 I have become such close companions. 
 
 How well I remember the day when, going 
 into the office of my friend, Dr. L. Duncan Bulk- 
 ley, he inquired, “Where are you spending your 
 vacation?” 
 
 My reply was, “ Just now we are spending a few 
 weeks in Stockbridge.” | 
 
 His next question was, “ Why don’t you come to 
 Norfolk? ”’ 
 
 Now Norfolk had become a somewhat familiar 
 name, by the reports of friends who for years had 
 been singing its praises, but I had never been there. 
 So it came to pass that the next Monday we were 
 dining in his home, a mile north of the village. 
 
 After dinner the Doctor said, ““ Now come with 
 me. I want to show you something.” 
 
 He took us to this place and said, “ You must 
 buy this farm. If you don’t I will have to, and I 
 don’t want to, because I have too much land 
 already.” 
 
 I had about as much thought of buying a farm as 
 I had of adventuring to the moon. But it would do 
 no harm to look at a farm, even a small one. So 
 we prowled around the place. The house was 
 empty, the owner had moved to the village. But, 
 like Indians, we peered into the windows. We 
 
ORCHARD NOOK 229 
 
 wandered to the orchard and the garden, considered 
 the barn, in true New England style attached to the 
 house, and the ice house, and all the buildings which 
 the old time farmer thought necessary to his 
 comfort. 
 
 Then the Doctor said, ““ Now we will go to the 
 village and get the old lady’s terms.” 
 
 Like lambs to the slaughter we were led on. 
 The terms were fascinating. It was a veritable 
 bargain counter. But we were unconverted, and 
 took the train back to Stockbridge. 
 
 But ever since Adam and E've, human nature has 
 been drawn to a garden. It is in the human blood. 
 It has been in mine since the early days when I 
 used to spend vacations on my father’s farm in 
 Wisconsin. So it was not strange that the next day 
 we discussed Norfolk and the farm. The more we 
 discussed the more excited we became— 
 
 “Yes, it was beautiful.” 
 
 “Did you ever see a lovelier village, nestling 
 among lovelier hills?” 
 
 “Never, and that library on the green, beautiful 
 token of New England letters.” 
 
 “And that old house, over a hundred years 
 old. What fine colonial suggestions. It has 
 possibilities.” 
 
 And so on and on; all that day the spell was 
 being wrought, with the result that the next morn- 
 ing I went to Norfolk and before noon had bought 
 the farm. 
 
230 CHARLES LEMUEL THOMPSON 
 
 Yes, it is twenty-four years ago, and what 
 changes the years have brought. The old house 
 stands as it was (and so solidly built, it is likely to 
 stand another century), but it has been variously 
 changed and enlarged both inside and out, till it is 
 much too large for the small family we now are. 
 The surroundings have also been changed. ‘The 
 picket-fence has been supplanted by a stone wall, 
 the proper Connecticut symbol. The well with the 
 old-fashioned windlass has become an artesian well, 
 bored through a hundred and thirty-five feet of 
 rock, supplying water enough for the village, and 
 as cold as ice-water, brought into the house by an 
 electric motor. On a rock platform, we have 
 perched a summer house with a pleasant view of 
 the village with its beautiful church spire. Many 
 fruit trees have been set out, and give us abundant 
 fruit. 
 
 My garden has been enlarged and is a source of 
 perpetual delight. Since I have retired from my 
 Home Board work I have been able to spend much 
 time there. Of course, like all gardeners, even 
 experts, I have come on many adversaries. Things 
 don’t turn out according to schedule. 
 
 My wife says, “ Faith is that faculty which en- 
 ables us to believe that our vegetables will look like 
 the pictures in the celebrated gardener’s catalogue.” 
 Nevertheless I keep up the everlasting experiment, 
 and with results that help us through the winter. 
 There are plenty of germs and insect pests to keep 
 
ORCHARD NOOK 231 
 
 me busy, but only two animal enemies—deer and 
 woodchuck. 
 
 The former in the stilly night invade the beans 
 and peas, the latter take everything that comes 
 along. I would have just and legal cause to shoot 
 the deer. But I cannot doit. I did it once on the 
 shores of a Wisconsin lake. But those liquid eyes 
 have followed and haunted me. So the deer and I 
 divide the peas. 
 
 As for the woodchucks, they are beneath con- 
 tempt, and remote from pity. For getting rid of 
 them, I have tried all the means there are. But it 
 is no use. One summer I borrowed a fierce Aire- 
 dale dog from a neighbor, and tied him in the mid- 
 dle of the garden. He was worse than the wood- 
 chuck. His howling kept us awake all night. In 
 the morning I cut him loose and sent him home. 
 I preferred the woodchuck. 
 
 I have decided to let the inevitable come along, in 
 whatever garb it likes. I remember that Adam had 
 a snake in his garden. I would rather have wood- 
 chucks. He forfeited his title when the snake got 
 busy. Anyhow my beasts don’t drive me out. So, 
 if necessary, I will let them stay and we will 
 divide even. 
 
 But there are other charms than those of the 
 garden. Norfolk is set in environs not only of 
 beautiful scenery, but of a wonderful history. As 
 I glance across the meadow, my eye catches the 
 historic and graceful spire of the village church 
 
232 CHARLES LEMUEL THOMPSON 
 
 and thoughts circle swiftly about it like doves to its 
 belfry. The intellectual life of this country is writ- 
 ten on its pulpits. In God’s house across the 
 meadow there was a pastor a hundred and fifty 
 years ago who, in a ministry of more than half a 
 century, not only expounded immortal truths to up- 
 lift and cheer the thinking of pioneers who fought 
 sternly to subdue these rugged hills, but who, that 
 the truth might not fail in coming generations, 
 gathered in his study from decade to decade more 
 than a hundred young men, and trained them to be 
 thinkers. There was no accessible college. The 
 preacher was the university. Only a few miles 
 across the hills is the county seat. This, however, 
 is not its chief fame. It was the home of the 
 Beecher family. When did the light of a little 
 country village shine so far? And from many a 
 country church among these hills the light is still 
 shining in lives of those whose inspiration came 
 from that source. 
 
 As I thus meditate my mind comes out of the 
 past and takes hold of the present. Are the old 
 days better than these? Have we declined in moral 
 and intellectual tone? As I glance up from the 
 page I see the robin again. He has dared the elec- 
 tric wire, but he rests uneasily, with furtive side 
 glances. His perch is a new thing under the sun. 
 But he is getting used to it. 
 
 We, too, are getting used to wires and wheels 
 and wings of which the fathers had no conception. 
 
ORCHARD NOOK 233 
 
 Are we therefore better than they? To be sure the 
 spinning wheel is now found only in the antique 
 shops. The ox-team is a curiosity at the county 
 fair. The stream that laughs behind me is arrested 
 in its dash to charge my electric wire, and the hill 
 just below me has been sliced to make room for the 
 express train. The other day above these hills an 
 aeroplane sang its raucous song. 
 
 We certainly are further along. The fathers 
 who subdued these hills were slow. Their farming 
 implements are kept only in museums. But the 
 characters developed here had a grit like the granite 
 around them, and the light that shone out from 
 their libraries that had only President Eliot’s five- 
 foot shelf has illumined all our thinking. 
 
 And now as the sun slants toward the west, I 
 have a vision of many years full of varied experi- 
 ences, but best of all, of opportunities for service, 
 not always well rendered, but in which I have been 
 sustained by royal friendships and by continued 
 health and strength. 
 
 And as I swing my glass and turn toward the 
 future it unrolls in colors of faith and hope. 
 
 With Whittier I can say: 
 
 “IT know not where His islands lift 
 Their fronded palms in air, 
 I only know I cannot drift 
 Beyond His love and care.” 
 
 I rest my pen here. The sun has gone down, the 
 
234 CHARLES LEMUEL THOMPSON 
 
 shadows shroud the hills, and a few great stars are 
 shining down. So over these hills forever the great 
 souls, who here sternly held their lives to the best 
 and noblest things, shine down upon me—the very 
 constellations of the Lord. 
 
XVI 
 
 A FEW OF THE EIGHTIETH BIRTHDAY 
 LETTERS 
 
WAITING. 
 
 I stand tn the deepening shadow rim 
 Of the mountains left and right. 
 
 The sea before lies still and dim— 
 O’er-swept by a fading light. 
 
 I camp. The time to halt has come. 
 O’er the breadth of Tomorrow's sea, 
 There is no road to walk upon— 
 And I wait, O, Lord, for Thee! 
 
 But Thine the olden signal yet, 
 The rod in Thy prophet’s hand, 
 That waved the way of Thy holy will, 
 And showed Thy strong command. 
 
 I wait. Though the hills be yet more dim, 
 And more ominous the sea, 
 
 The open path will come to him 
 Who meekly waits for Thee. 
 
XVI 
 
 A FEW OF THE EIGHTIETH BIRTHDAY 
 LETTERS 
 
 Alaska Steamship Company. 
 July 15th, 1919. 
 My DEAR Dr. THOMPSON: 
 
 I have been expecting to write you a birthday letter 
 in Nome during our week of waiting there for the U. 
 S. Cutter Bear to take us to Pt. Barrow. But the 
 captain of the cutter wirelessed us an hour ago that 
 he would start immediately on the arrival of our ship 
 at Nome for a cruise around the end of Siberia before 
 starting for Barrow, and invited us to go along, which 
 we at once agreed to do. So we may not have a wait 
 in Nome on our northward journey, and in order to 
 be sure my greeting will reach you by August 18th, I 
 am scratching it off as we are entering what would be 
 the Nome harbor, if it had such a thing. The fog is 
 so dense nobody knows where we are, except the 
 water is getting shallower and the boat is creeping 
 along hoping it will hit what is called the “ Nome 
 Roadstead ” somehow. ahs 
 
 The deepest and biggest congratulations of my 
 heart are yours, also the devoutest prayers for many 
 more anniversaries with increasing joy to everyone of 
 them. You have lived a great day, and deserve a 
 great evening to it. Your mark is all over this vast 
 empire up here, as well as all over the states below us, 
 and no man can rub it out. 
 
 God bless you and add to your days and your 
 
 237 
 
238 CHARLES LEMUEL THOMPSON 
 
 strength. Sarah joins me in congratulations and best 
 wishes. 
 Sincerely, with warm remembrances to Mrs. and 
 Miss ‘Thompson, 
 Joun A. Margulis. 
 
 P. S. Am not sure of your summer address, I only 
 know it is where your potato patch is, so am sending 
 this to 156 Fifth Avenue. 
 
 Pine Crest, 
 Keene Valley, N. Y. 
 
 Aug. 15th, 1919. 
 My DEAR Docror: 
 
 Greetings! Affection! Admiration! Congratula- 
 tions upon four-score years of extraordinary useful- 
 ness and honor. 
 
 We never had a better Secretary in the Home 
 Board. Your administration was the high-water 
 mark of the Board’s usefulness, and you have retired 
 with the intense affection of all the Board and the 
 gratitude of the entire Church for the wisdom, the 
 splendid energy, the entire and unprecedented success 
 of your administration. Blessings upon you, dear 
 man, many added years of happiness, and the warm 
 consciousness of the devotion of your friends. 
 
 Ever most cordially, 
 WILTON MERLE-SMITH. 
 
 The Board of Home Missions, 
 New York. 
 
 Aug. 15, 1919. 
 My DEARLY BELOVED: 
 
 Hail and all good wishes! Your eightieth birthday 
 calls forth heartiest congratulations, seeing it is 
 
EIGHTIETH BIRTHDAY LETTERS 239 
 
 marked by perfect health of body and mind, and with 
 your most lovable graces of character and disposition 
 unimpaired. Ready for service, too, although if any 
 man has fully earned entire freedom from care and 
 responsibility, you are that man. For twenty-one 
 years we have known and loved each other, and my 
 admiration and affection have deepened and strength- 
 ened every passing year. Take good care of yourself, 
 for you are my dearest friend, and as long as I am 
 permitted to hold earthly converse I want you to be 
 within reach. 
 
 Affectionate greetings to Mrs. Thompson and all 
 your dear ones from both Mrs. Dixon, and your de- 
 voted friend, for Time and Eternity, 
 
 Joun Dixon. 
 
 The Board of Home Missions, 
 St. Louts. 
 August 14th, 1919. 
 My DEAR Dr. THOMPSON : 
 
 The lives of most men are measured by their years 
 —others by the good deeds they have done. It is the 
 rare good fortune of only a few to have their lives 
 measured by both. Those of us in the St. Louis office 
 desire at this time to extend to you our congratula- 
 tions on your eightieth birthday, measured by years, 
 and on your four-hundredth, measured by the good 
 you have done. 
 
 Wishing you many happy returns of the day, we 
 are, as ever, 
 
 Faithfully yours, 
 B. P. FULLERTON. 
 ANDREW J. MONTGOMERY. 
 Mary K,. Yost. 
 
240 CHARLES LEMUEL THOMPSON 
 
 808 West End Ave., New York. 
 Aug. 16, 1919. 
 My bDEAR Dr. THOMPSON: 
 
 A report has reached me that on the 18th of this 
 month you are to celebrate your eightieth birthday. 
 Of course I regard this report as an exaggeration. 
 Somebody’s arithmetic has gone wrong, or a defective 
 calendar has been used. It gives, however, a cheerful 
 opportunity for your friends to express their personal 
 regard for you, and their conviction that the celebra- 
 tion should be deferred for at least ten years. 
 
 A great number of those in all parts of the country 
 who know and love you, should have an opportunity 
 to send their warm congratulations. You have long 
 been known as one of the most prominent leaders in 
 the work of Home Missions in America. The 
 churches of every denomination have gladly recog- 
 nized your service in this great cause. You have ad- 
 vocated its claims from the pulpit and platform with 
 unceasing earnestness. Your writings on all phases 
 of the subject have made a record of varied informa- 
 tion and wise counsel that will be an invaluable treas- 
 ury to workers in the same field. Your name will be 
 inscribed on a tablet more lasting than anything made 
 of brass. 
 
 I cannot tell you how constantly I have appreciated 
 my long association with you on the Board of Home 
 Missions,—it is one of the most highly prized memo- 
 ries of my life. I believe you will yet continue to add 
 rich contributions to the cause so dear to your heart, 
 and I pray that you may be spared to rejoice in seeing 
 the ripe fruits of your long labors. 
 
 With sincerest congratulations, 
 
 Your affectionate friend, 
 D. Stuart Donpce. 
 
EIGHTIETH BIRTHDAY LETTERS 241 
 
 47 University Place, New York. 
 My DEAR YOUNG OCTOGENARIAN FRIEND: 
 
 A fellow pilgrim only four years behind you in the 
 march cries ‘‘ All hail to thee!” Preacher, poet, 
 potato-grower and prince of good fellows, hail to 
 thee! It is a joy to know that you have so many of 
 the pleasures of youth, while lacking naught “ that 
 which should accompany old age, as honor, love, 
 obedience, troops of friends.” Few men have such 
 a retrospect as yours. May the prospect brighten, 
 “serene and lovely as a Lapland night.” 
 
 The prayer of your friend, 
 GEORGE ALEXANDER. 
 
 Camp Diamond, Colebrook, N. H. 
 August 13th, 1919. 
 My DEAR UNCLE CHARLIE: 
 
 I wish you every blessing on your eightieth birth- 
 day. It has been a blessing to know you all these past 
 years—not the whole eighty, but my part of them— 
 and I rejoice in all that you have been and done in 
 Christ’s church and Christ’s cause. And we are 
 specially grateful for the strength and wisdom and 
 courage of this last and ripest year. May they long 
 continue, and may God’s good grace make each one 
 richer and more fruitful than any that have gone 
 before. 
 
 Ever affectionately your friend, 
 Ropert E, SPEER. 
 
 156 Fefth Avenue, New York. 
 
 August 11th, 1919. 
 My DEAR Dr. THOMPSON: 
 I am clearing my desk to leave for a short vacation 
 
242 CHARLES LEMUEL THOMPSON 
 
 at Northfield, but before I go I want to send you a 
 message of hearty congratulations and good wishes 
 on your eightieth birthday, which I understand will be 
 the eighteenth of this month. You know, I am sure, 
 how deep is my personal affection for you, my dear 
 brother. I well remember the day we first met in Dr. 
 Gray’s office in Chicago. Ever since I have followed 
 your career with keen interest and with growing ad- 
 miration for the breadth of your Christian statesman- 
 ship, and the splendid efficiency with which you have 
 discharged the great responsibilities which the Church 
 has laid upon you. May our Father in Heaven richly 
 bless you during the coming days, and crowd them 
 with evidence of His love. 
 
 I am sure that Mrs. Brown would wish to join me 
 in this message if she were here, and in warm remem- 
 brance to Mrs. Thompson. 
 
 Affectionately yours, 
 ARTHUR J. BROWN. 
 
 158 Féfth Avenue, New York. 
 Aug. 17, 1919. 
 My DEAR Dr. THOMPSON: 
 
 Let me join with others who will be greeting you 
 on this eightieth anniversary. For there must indeed 
 be a goodly company who will be with you in spirit if 
 they know of the day. What a splendid service has 
 been yours to our country, and to the Church, and 
 what a record to look back upon! The reflection of 
 the years past will but add to the glory of the years 
 to come, making the path bright and brighter until 
 the Perfect Day. 
 
 May you be spared to us yet many years. Eighty 
 is not necessarily old. We are only growing old. 
 
EIGHTIETH BIRTHDAY LETTERS 243 
 
 Our good friend Mr. Aikman sets us a good exam- 
 ple, active and at his desk almost daily at ninety-one, 
 —so there is still work for us all, and great blessing 
 in work! May your blessings be multiplied. 
 With warmest greetings, congratulations, and 
 goodwill. 
 Sincerely, 
 
 FLEMING H. REVELL, 
 
 The Continent, New York City. 
 August 15th, 1919. 
 My DEAR Dr. THOMPSON: 
 
 I hear with great satisfaction that Monday will 
 bring around your eightieth birthday. Orthodox as 
 you are, I am sure you are happy—at least all your 
 friends are happy for you—that you can come to this 
 distinguished anniversary a living disproof of what 
 the Psalmist said about fourscore years signifying 
 labor and sorrow. In your case the pride of four- 
 score years is not only physical strength and bodily 
 health, but a clear eye, a cheery heart, and a sound 
 thinking apparatus to which all of us turn confidently 
 for good counsel. 
 
 To defy age as you have is certainly an achieve- 
 ment worthy to be set beside all the other big things 
 that force, determination and God’s grace have en- 
 abled you to accomplish in your busy years. And I 
 want you to count me among the friends who are 
 depending on you to keep on living thus wholesomely 
 and vigorously for many years yet, for certainly we 
 all of us need you. 
 
 With warm, affectionate regards, 
 
 NoiaANn R. BEs‘. 
 
24:4 CHARLES LEMUEL THOMPSON 
 
 Union Theological Seminary, 
 Broadway at 120th St., New York. 
 
 West Falmouth, Mass., 
 August 17, 1919. 
 
 Dear Dr. THOMPSON: 
 
 To my great astonishment I have learned from 
 George Webster that you celebrate tomorrow your 
 eightieth birthday, and I hasten with admiration and 
 amaze to send you my greetings. To tell the truth I 
 think Webster has made a mistake, and I am simply 
 betraying my innocence in imagining, you have at- 
 tained so venerable a dignity, but I suppose I must 
 take his word for it, and throw the responsibility 
 for undue gullibility upon him. If he is right, where 
 have you put this big bundle of years? Certainly you 
 are not carrying it either on your head or on your 
 shoulders, so far as anyone can see. And your wis- 
 dom—sound and seasoned as I have always recog- 
 nized it to be—I had thought was the accumulation of 
 seventy rather than of eighty years! It is a wonder- 
 ful thing thus to have deceived your juniors, and to 
 have tempted them to think of you as a brother in- 
 stead of a father in Israel. I confess that I have 
 fallen before the temptation, but in ignorance I did it. 
 But I am not repentant, and with your indulgence I 
 shall go on as I have; for, after all, it is only a mat- 
 ter of words, and your “ eighty ” is but as the “ sev- 
 enty ” of other and lesser men, and seventy doesn’t 
 seem so far away to some of us younger chaps! 
 
 You have, of course, my warmest and most affec- 
 tionate regards, and my wishes for many more fruit- 
 ful and youthful years such as you have learned the 
 
EIGHTIETH BIRTHDAY LETTERS 245 
 
 secret of. May we all in Chi Alpha long enjoy the 
 delight of your fellowship! 
 Faithfully and fraternally yours, 
 ArtTHUR C, McGIFFERT. 
 
 Union Theological Seminary, 
 Broadway at 120th St., New York. 
 Silver Bay, N.Y., 
 Aug. 16th, 1919. 
 
 Dear BrotHER THOMPSON: 
 
 Hail to our octogenarian brother in Christ! Chi 
 Alpha adds to its glory day after tomorrow, and we 
 salute our latest addition to the number of those who 
 have exceeded by a half score the three-score years 
 and ten allotted of old to the span of man’s life. 
 
 But what I especially rejoice in is the quality of 
 life and friendship, not merely in its protraction ac- 
 cording to the annual calendar. Most hearty admira- 
 tion and salutations to you, who continue to possess 
 so much of the vitality of youth, tempered with the 
 wisdom and mellowness of age! You have delighted 
 and inspired me as I have met you from week to week 
 of a Saturday afternoon at our fraternal gatherings, 
 and too as I have come across your tracks otherwise. 
 For example, I see in the morning’s paper that you 
 are to preach in the metropolis tomorrow. A grand 
 old man retaining the secret of youth! I desire to 
 send my heartiest greetings to you for the day after 
 tomorrow, when you will be demonstrating to your 
 many friends the power and the joy of a sane, whole- 
 some life, devoted in the spirit of Christ to the service 
 of the Kingdom, ever renewing its vitality as you pass 
 along life’s broad highway. 
 
 You are one of the few of our number who have 
 
246 CHARLES LEMUEL THOMPSON 
 
 been able to receive Chi Alpha into the hospitality of 
 your home, a privilege which I have often recalled 
 with special appreciation. Accordingly I desire to 
 send salutations to your noble helpmeet, who has been 
 enabling you to press on with your unwonted vigor. 
 edie and faithfully, 
 Ropert E. HuMe. 
 
 Union Theological Seminary, 
 Broadway at 120th St., New York. 
 
 Sea Girt, N. J., 
 August 13, 1919. 
 DEAR BrRoTHER LEMUEL: 
 
 And so you are about to pass your eightieth anni- 
 versary! I am lagging fifteen years behind you. I 
 only hope if I ever catch up to you that I shall be as 
 well off mentally, physically, materially, socially, re- 
 trospectively and prospectively as you are, which 
 would be going some! 
 
 Blessings on your sandy head! (What luck, not 
 even hoary !) 
 
 Mrs. Fagnani joins me in all this, and Mrs. Thomp- 
 son is remembered, too. 
 
 Ever thine, 
 CHares P, FacNnani. 
 
 You will be getting a cloud of these witnesses 
 to your work and belovedness. Do not bother to 
 acknowledge this. — 
 
 Battle Creek, Michigan. 
 August 16th, 1919. 
 DEAR Dr. THOMPSON: 
 With your other brothers in Chi Alpha, and I have 
 
EIGHTIETH BIRTHDAY LETTERS 247 
 
 no doubt with a host of other friends, I send you my 
 congratulations and best wishes for your birthday. 
 I have no doubt it will be a day of devout thanksgiv- 
 ing for the long and useful career which has been 
 vouchsafed you. Aside from the blessings of health 
 and long life you have had opportunities of serving 
 God and your fellow-men such as come to few. That 
 you have improved these opportunities will be the evi- 
 dence of those who know you best. 
 
 May the coming years be filled with good,—con- 
 tinued activity, the love of friends, congenial com- 
 panionship with men of like minds and that firm faith 
 which has guided you so far. 
 
 Mrs. Smith joins me in messages of congratulation 
 and in cordial greetings to Mrs. Thompson and 
 yourself, 
 
 Faithfully your friend, 
 HENRY PRESERVED SMITH. 
 
 Litchfield, Conn., August 16th, 1919. 
 DEAR Dr. THOMPSON: 
 
 All hail! Monarch of the Norfolk wilds, Nestor of 
 the Prohibition Bar of the New York Presbytery, the 
 beloved of friends, the statesman of the church, the 
 eloquent preacher, all hail on your birthday! You 
 are the youngest old man I ever met. Please pass the 
 prescription down the line. 
 
 It is my joy to extend these congratulations to you, 
 and to let memory open its doors and bring back my 
 first acquaintance with you away back in 1879. Dear 
 me, forty years ago! You have been privileged to do 
 a glorious work. Your name is writ large upon the 
 
248 CHARLES LEMUEL THOMPSON 
 
 history of the church. You have had the vision for 
 the years, and you have lived to see its realization. 
 
 May you come to your 
 “old age serene and bright, 
 And lovely as the Lapland night.” 
 Sincerely, 
 H. G. MENDENHALL. 
 
 Ausable Club, 
 Essex County, N.Y. 
 
 August 14th, 1919. 
 My DEAR Dr. THOMPSON: 
 
 May I join your many friends in congratulating you 
 on your eightieth birthday, and on the accomplish- 
 ments on which you can look in retrospect? 
 
 I come across your footsteps in the church where 
 you served, and where there are still families who 
 owe you much. I know more of what you meant to 
 the whole church through your superb leadership of 
 the Home Board, broad, sane, courageous, eminently 
 Christian. I can speak from personal gratitude of the 
 constant help you are to us in Chi Alpha, always 
 open-minded, usually far ahead of the procession in 
 your thought and feeling, and with undaunted faith 
 holding fast the vision of the Kingdom of God. 
 
 May your life be prolonged for our sake, and your 
 strength kept vigorous. We love you, and that is not 
 often felt in the come-and-go contacts of New York 
 life. We thank God for what you have done, and 
 for what you are. 
 
 Affectionately yours, 
 Henry SLOANE COFFIN. 
 
EIGHTIETH BIRTHDAY LETTERS 249 
 
 Union Theological Seminary, 
 Broadway at 120th St., New York. 
 Orleans, Vt., 
 Aug. 18th, 1919. 
 Dear Dr. THOMPSON: 
 
 Let me add my youthful voice to the chorus of con- 
 gratulations on your eightieth birthday. I shall be 
 forty-five in October, but eighty, which I aspire to 
 reach, looks a long way ahead. You have seen a 
 great deal in your eighty years, 1839-1919, the rapid 
 spread of railroads, national expansion (Texas and 
 all the rest), the Civil War, transcontinental railways, 
 and all the rest that I have seen as well as you. You 
 have not been merely a spectator, but have taken your 
 part in the big movements of your time, as a writer, 
 preacher and administrator. You are one of Amer- 
 ica’s elder statesmen, and we boys who only rank 
 forty-four plus in the scale of one hundred we both 
 hope to reach, recognize your preeminence, rejoice in 
 your councils, and love to be in your company. 
 
 Cordially yours, 
 Wo. W. RocKwELL. 
 
 Constableville, Lewis County, N.Y. 
 DEAR BROTHER IN CHI ALPHA: 
 
 Our ever watchful secretary informs me that you 
 are to pass the eightieth milestone in your journey on 
 Monday, August 18th. It gives me great pleasure to 
 send you brotherly greetings on this occasion, and_ 
 also to thank God for keeping you so alive and well 
 and useful and happy, all these years. As I have gone 
 eight birthdays ahead of you on May 28th last, I may 
 send you a word of advice. Keep up your poetic 
 talent. It is a great help in a tight place now and 
 
250 CHARLES LEMUEL THOMPSON 
 
 then. Trust your old friends. ‘They love you and 
 know your virtues and solid worth. Cling to Chi 
 Alpha. It is a clever and helpful crowd. Keep on 
 living as long as you can. 
 Your loving old friend, 
 CHARLES AUGUSTUS STODDARD. 
 
 Newark, N. J. 
 September 23d, 1919. 
 My DEAR Dr. THOMPSON: 
 
 I write to congratulate you upon your eightieth 
 birthday which I heard you had celebrated recently. 
 I was indeed surprised that you had reached that age, 
 for you look easily ten years younger, and I never 
 dreamed that one of your energy and efficiency could 
 be fourscore years. You are indeed worthy of very 
 much more than any words of all your friends com- 
 bined can bestow. What a splendid useful life you 
 have lived! It is an example to us all. You have 
 filled the years with good deeds and_ beneficent 
 influences. 
 
 Your diversity of gifts has rounded out your life 
 extraordinarily. How many lives combine the min- 
 istry and administrative service together with history- 
 writing and poetry? You are indeed to be envied and 
 loved for all you are, and for all you have so nobly 
 achieved. May your great good life go on for years 
 to come. 
 
 I think of you this evening as connected in many 
 ways with my own life very tenderly and affection- 
 ately. 
 
 I am sure you must realize how we of the Board 
 remember and deeply appreciate all you have been to 
 us—first as a director and then as a secretary. How 
 often we have been proud of you as you have headed 
 
EIGHTIETH BIRTHDAY LETTERS 251 
 
 our cause before Assemblies, and have graced our 
 Board throughout the Church all over our country. 
 Your literary work will live on, and your ministry 
 will live on year after year. You have been a blessing 
 and an inspiration to us all. God bless you always. 
 Affectionately your friend, 
 LyMAN WHITNEY ALLEN. 
 
 Unson National Bank of Pasadena, California. 
 8/11/19. 
 DEAR FRIEND: 
 
 August 18th will soon be here! A big day for you, 
 and for your friends, too. Eighty! That’s fine. Just 
 getting your second wind for a good pull up the hill, 
 —not down. 
 
 Honestly, you ought to be a happy man as you look 
 over your shoulder and back over the wonderful years 
 of service. There is no other word adequate—won- 
 derful it is! 
 
 I am so glad to have had those four years with you, 
 side and side,—it was good for me,—you were so pa- 
 tient and thoughtful, and always helpful. 
 
 We want you to have many more years,—and you 
 will. 
 
 Yours affectionately, 
 BruIN (JOHN WILLIS BAER). 
 
 The National Council of the Congregational Churches 
 of the United States. 
 14 Beacon Street, Boston, Mass. 
 
 Sunapee, N. H., Aug. 16, 1919. 
 My Dear Man: 
 
 They tell me you have arrived at a notable birth- 
 day. I have difficulty in believing it. None the less 
 
252 CHARLES LEMUEL THOMPSON 
 
 here are my affectionate congratulations. On the long 
 pathway of sunshine and shadow over which you 
 have passed it has been yours to share an abundant 
 degree of the fulness of living. May the days ahead 
 be abundant in the gracious gifts of God. May you 
 be sheltered from the strokes of trial, and dwell in 
 peace under His shadow. 
 
 I hope to move to New York in November, and 
 sometimes to have a sight of you. 
 
 Ever affectionately yours, 
 HuBeErt C. HERRING. 
 
 MINUTE ADOPTED. BY THE PRESBYTERIAN BOARD OF 
 ForEIGN Missions, Aucust 13TH, 1919. 
 
 The Board, having learned that on August 18th the 
 Rev. Charles L. Thompson, D.D., LL.D., Secretary 
 Emeritus of the Board of Home Missions, will cele- 
 brate his eightieth birthday, wishes to express to 
 Dr. Thompson its fraternal, cordial and heartfelt 
 greetings. 
 
 The Board, while recording its appreciation of the 
 great debt which the whole church owes to Dr. 
 Thompson for his efficient services for the cause of 
 Home Missions, also gladly bears witness to the 
 breadth of vision, the catholicity of spirit, and the 
 largeness of purpose, which have enabled him to be 
 of signal service to the cause of our common human- 
 ity throughout the whole world. 
 
 The Board, in company with hosts of his friends, 
 wishes Dr. Thompson all the blessings that accom- 
 pany a ripe old age, “honor, love, obedience, troops 
 of friends ” and “ the blessing of Jehovah which mak- 
 eth rich and he addeth no sorrow therewith.” 
 
 | GrorcE ALEXANDER, President. 
 
 A. W. Hasty, Secretary. 
 
XVII 
 A FEW GENERAL LETTERS 
 
RETROSPECT. 
 
 I stood where the gold of the morning 
 Flashed over the eastern sea; 
 
 And I said, “ How fair is the promise 
 Of the dawn on flower and tree.” 
 
 I stood where a garden of poppies 
 Reflected the sun in the West; 
 
 And I said, “ The gold of the evening 
 Shines farthest—and fairest—and best.” 
 
XVII 
 A FEW GENERAL LETTERS 
 
 Executive Mansion, 
 Washington. 
 
 June 12th, 1888. 
 Rev. C. L. THomeson, D.D. 
 Dear Sir: 
 
 I send you, with this, a modified order in that mat- 
 ter of teaching in the Indian Schools. It has been 
 delayed a little by the absence of the Commissioner 
 of Indian Affairs, to whom I thought it but right that 
 it should be submitted before promulgation. Copies 
 will be at once sent to all parties charged with its 
 execution. 
 
 You will see that the order is almost precisely 
 copied from the proposition left with me by the 
 committee. 
 
 I wish you would either send a copy to Dr. Her- 
 rick or tell me where to address him. I am in doubt 
 whether the memorandum of his address which I 
 have is correct or not. 
 
 Hoping that the conclusion reached as embodied in 
 the paper herewith sent will settle this troublesome 
 question, and pleased that I have been able to meet the 
 views of the committee with whom you acted, I am, 
 
 Yours very truly, 
 GROVER CLEVELAND. 
 
 Please let me hear from you.—G. C. 
 ead 
 
256 CHARLES LEMUEL THOMPSON 
 
 The White House, 
 Washington. 
 Oyster Bay, N. Y., 
 August 1, 1906. 
 My DEAR Dr. THOMPSON: 
 
 I thank you heartily, and let me say again how I en- 
 joyed your sermon, and how I enjoyed having you 
 here at lunch with me. 
 
 Sincerely yours, 
 THEODORE ROOSEVELT. 
 
 The White House, 
 Washington. 
 May 6, 1913. 
 My DEAR Dr. THOMPSON: 
 
 Thank you very much for your letter of May 3rd, 
 in regard to the appointment of a Commissioner of 
 Indian Affairs. I have noted it carefully, and shall 
 give earnest consideration to the suggestions which 
 you were good enough to make. 
 
 Cordially and sincerely yours, 
 Wooprow WILSON. 
 
 New York, Feb. 12th, 1870. 
 Rev. C. L. THompson, 
 Dear Sir: 
 
 If you regard the extract from the second volume 
 of my translation of the “ Iliad” previous to its pub- 
 lication, as a contribution, you may put me down as 
 an occasional contributor. In any other point of view 
 I could not, with so many things claiming my atten- 
 tion, and at my advanced age, when the “ grasshop- 
 per ” begins to ‘be a burden ” allow myself to be re- 
 
 
 
A FEW GENERAL LETTERS 257 
 
 garded as a contributor, since it is not likely that I 
 could find time to write anything for your periodical. 
 I can only congratulate you on the promise given by 
 its early numbers. 
 I am, sir, truly yours, 
 Wo. CuLLEN Bryant. 
 
 Brooklyn, Jan. 24, 1902. 
 BELOVED BROTHER THOMPSON: 
 
 I was sorry to miss seeing you at the Board rooms 
 yesterday. I left a list of some of the papers that 
 have published your splendid poem [‘‘ Our Captain” |. 
 
 Last evening at the grand public dinner given to 
 Park Commissioner Brower, at the Montauk Club, 
 Hon. Oscar S. Straus was one of the speakers. Hon. 
 Mr. Hendrix, President of the Bank of Commerce, 
 presided and introduced me as one of the speakers. 
 Before doing so he read your fine poem, and there was 
 loud applause through the large dining hall. 
 
 Many people tell me that they have cut it out from 
 the papers for preservation. You never made a 
 greater poetical hit in all your long, blessed life. 
 
 With cordial salutations to the comely wife, who is 
 proud of her husband. 
 
 Yours evermore to the core, 
 THEODORE L,, CUYLER. 
 
 176 Oxford St., Brooklyn, Nov. 6th, 1903. 
 BROTHER BELOVED: 
 
 I had hoped to get over to Chi Alpha tomorrow 
 evening, and mainly that I might get a grip of your 
 right hand. But a cold shuts me in, and I cannot 
 venture on the long journey. 
 
 A few days ago my bright daughter, Mrs. Dr. 
 Cheesman, of Auburn, sent me a copy of your truly 
 
258 CHARLES LEMUEL THOMPSON 
 
 magnificent missionary address at Los Angeles, which 
 had been distributed in the pews of their church. I 
 gladly informed her that I had already enjoyed the 
 most powerful oration on Home Missions ever deliv- 
 ered in this country. Happy the man who finds his 
 right place. 
 
 My eighty-third birthday will soon heave in sight, 
 but I rejoiced on last Sabbath afternoon to address a 
 great meeting of young men at an evangelistic service 
 in the Majestic Theatre. I envy you younger breth- 
 ren who have the unspeakable privilege of sounding 
 the gospel bugle every Sunday. 
 
 As to the much advertised “new evangelism,” I 
 doubt whether it will be a great improvement on the 
 methods and the messages of one Paul, or one Wes- 
 ley, or one Spurgeon, or even one Moody (whom 
 Henry Drummond pronounced the most “ extraordi- 
 nary human being he had ever known”). After all 
 the great want is new fire put into old truths. 
 
 Hoping to be with Chi Alpha at the approaching 
 anniversary meeting, and with love unfeigned and un- 
 failing to them and to your own dear self, I remain, 
 
 Yours to the core, 
 THEODORE L. CUYLER. 
 P. S. My daughter has “Our Captain” framed on 
 her parlor wall. 
 
 Our CAPTAIN. 
 
 TO THEODORE LEDYARD CUYLER—READ AT A CELEBRA- 
 TION OF HIS EIGHTIETH ANNIVERSARY. 
 
 Fill—fill up your glasses—with Croton! 
 Fill full to the brim I say, 
 
 For the dearest old boy among us, 
 Who is ten times eight to-day. 
 
A FEW GENERAL LETTERS 
 
 It is three times three and a tiger— 
 It is hand to your caps, Oh, men! 
 
 For our Captain of Captains rejoices 
 In his counting of eight times ten. 
 
 Foot square on the bridge, and gripping 
 As steady as fate the wheel, 
 
 He has taken the storms to his forehead— 
 And cheered in the tempest’s reel. 
 
 He has seen the green sea monsters 
 Go writhing down the gale,— 
 But never a hand to slacken, 
 And never a heart to fail. 
 
 So it’s—Ho! to our Captain dauntless, 
 Trumpet-tongued and eagle-eyed, 
 
 With the spray of the voyage behind him, 
 And the Pilot by his side. 
 
 Together they sail into sunset— 
 Slow down for the harbor bell, 
 
 For the flash of the port, and the message 
 “ Well done ”—It is well—It is well. 
 
 So its three times three and a tiger! 
 Breathe deep for the man we love. 
 His heart is the heart of a lion, 
 His soul is the soul of a dove. 
 
 It is—Ho! to the Captain we honor. 
 Salute we the man and the day. 
 
 ‘On his brow are the snows of December, 
 In his heart are the bird-songs of May. 
 
 259 
 
260 CHARLES LEMUEL THOMPSON 
 
 Columbus, Ohio, March 27, 1898. 
 My Dear Dr. THOMPSON: 
 
 I have before me, as I lie here, the program for 
 your great Presbyterian Day, and will follow the 
 discussions from hour to hour until the day is over. 
 Yours is primarily a process of education, and, much 
 as has been done, the Church, its ministers and mem- 
 bers, still need a world of instruction—such a review 
 as shall help them to see what a continental task is 
 before us, and what a continental opportunity—one 
 as vast, interesting, solemn and full of promise as 
 Christ ever offered to any of His churches since the 
 apostolic century. So turn your large flash light over 
 the entire field. Let the Church see the deep and 
 pitiful city problems, the outlying rural needs, the 
 mountain destitution, the broad plains beyond the 
 Mississippi, and the unsanctified Pacific Coast. Show 
 it the Negro, the Indian, the horde of European im- 
 migration, the claims of the Islanders and the Asiatic 
 races. Pour in the light: let there be no dark corner 
 unillustrated. And God bless you and all your associ- 
 ates, your strong Board and the whole Church in the 
 gigantic task of Christianizing this elect continent in 
 the interests of a converted world. But “ Good-bye!” 
 
 Your friend for long years and forever, 
 
 E.. D. Morris. 
 
 The Evangelical Alliance for the United States of 
 America, New York City. 
 Jan. 27th, 1898. 
 My DEAR FRIEND: 
 When I saw the statement concerning you in the 
 Morning Tribune, I said to myself, “ The mistake of 
 Dr. Thompson’s life was in not being twins.” You 
 
A FEW GENERAL LETTERS 261 
 
 are needed in both places. May the Lord bless you 
 whether you stay or go. 
 As always, your brother, 
 JosIAH STRONG. 
 
 The Board of Foreign Missions of the Presbyterian 
 Church in the U.S. A. 
 156 Fifth Avenue, New York, 
 June 19, 1911. 
 My DEAR Dr. THOMPSON: 
 
 Just a line to congratulate you on the high honor 
 which was conferred by dear Old Princeton upon 
 you. I have tried to get down to see you, but have 
 failed. I will endeavor to bring this by word of 
 mouth, but lest I forget it I put in in imperishable or 
 perishable type. 
 
 You have well earned the honor. It is time that 
 Princeton recognized, a little more fully than she has 
 done in recent years, the work of men in the ministry 
 both at home and abroad. 
 
 I wish you would suggest a good man to them for 
 President, they seem all at sea in this matter. 
 
 With most cordial greetings believe me to be, 
 
 Sincerely yours, 
 A. W. HALsEyY. 
 
 Presbyterian Board of Publication and Sabbath 
 School Work. 
 December 26th, 1912. 
 My DEAR HERO, ORATOR, PROPHET, POET: 
 
 May the benediction of every heart you have 
 helped, quickened, cheered bring you all the fullness 
 of divine blessing. 
 
 How sweet the song of Isaiah as chanted by you, 
 how victorious ! 
 
262 CHARLES LEMUEL THOMPSON 
 
 Yes, you are the poet of intrepidity. I do thank 
 you for the music of your Christmas song. 
 With appreciation and affection, 
 Yours, 
 JaMEs A. WorDEN. 
 
 Lincoln, Nebraska, August 27, 1923. 
 DEAR CHARLIE: 
 
 Thanks for your letter, and many, many good 
 wishes for your welfare—you are rather young yet, 
 but you have a chance to get where Iam. Yes, I was 
 88 yesterday. I preached at the Westminster Church. 
 The arrangements were made before they knew of 
 _my birthday. I have been preaching all summer with 
 few exceptions. : 
 
 You said a true thing when you said that time flies. 
 Flying machines don’t go so fast. When you and I 
 were kids along the Wisconsin if I had told you that 
 in about eighty years you would be lying off on your 
 farm in Connecticut, and I would be raising cucum- 
 bers in the great American desert, in a region then 
 unnamed, to be called Nebraska, you would have 
 called me a dreamer. It does get hot here every sum- 
 mer. For weeks 90° and 100°, then for fun 110°, 
 113°. That gets to be too much if kept up for a week 
 or two. 
 
 I would like to investigate your farm. I hope we 
 may meet again on earth, and I have a strong hope 
 and belief that we shall have a better meeting. Think 
 of the old friends gone on. As I grow older I have 
 . fewer near friends. They are just as good, but not 
 just the same. 
 
 Just interrupted to marry a couple. 
 
 Many regards to all of you. 
 
 Your old boy-friend, 
 Joun H. CarPENTER. 
 
A FEW GENERAL LETTERS 263 
 
 East Orange, N. J., 
 March 14th, 1924. 
 My DEAR Op PAL: 
 
 I appreciate your thoughtfulness in writing me 
 while on your back. But I notice that your soul 
 stands up on both feet with a big heart well-balanced 
 at the center. I seldom get to New York nowadays. 
 When my aeroplane arranges a landing in your neigh- 
 borhood I will drop onto your roof. 
 
 Tomorrow will be my eighty-third birthday. I am 
 given to reminiscing, as you know. Just think of it,— 
 about twenty-four such lives as you and I have had 
 would take us back to the time of Christ! Fifty to 
 Tutankhamen’s time—ancestors! And one hundred 
 to our hairy-skinned forebears of the old Stone Age! 
 I have just been reading over the second chapter of 
 Genesis. What savages Adam and Eve were! No 
 clothes, not even loin-cloths. No speech, perhaps, ex- 
 cept of the “ Bow-Wow ” sort,—no conscience, only 
 fear of consequences. No spiritual conceptions,— 
 followed the snake’s advice rather than that of The 
 Life “ walking in the Garden.” Didn’t know enough 
 to avoid fetishism until it was beaten out of them by 
 calamities. Well, I am grateful for having lived some 
 millenniums after such ancestors. You and I haven’t 
 been “sich creatures,” bad as we may have been. 
 We've lived in good times, for all that there were 
 some cloudy days. Your life has been among moral 
 heroes the best of the species; so has mine, although 
 I have sat more on the bleachers, while you have 
 fought on the gridiron. 
 
 You have been much to me. I often recall the days 
 when you helped me mightily as my parishioner. 
 There are two kinds of good men,—the one, those 
 who will do the helpful thing if you can persuade 
 their judgment and convince their conscience, and stir 
 
264 CHARLES LEMUEL THOMPSON 
 
 their emotion. The other sort are those who don’t 
 wait for such appeals, but whenever they see a chance 
 of being helpful, just pitch in and do it. You are of 
 this latter sort. I never felt very lonely, because I 
 knew that you and a few other members of Gideon’s 
 Band were down at the water’s edge moistening their 
 tongues, and ready for a dash. 
 
 The trouble with this age is that there are so few 
 ready-minded. Everybody is waiting for something 
 to turn up, and not willing to turn it up. Say! Let’s 
 cast our skins, and crawl into the new generation as 
 youngsters. I wonder if St. Peter will not let us out 
 0’ nights, just to go down into editorial rooms and jog 
 the newspapers, or to buzz at the ears of congressmen 
 and tell them to think of coming events, or to steer 
 the pens of preachers into the line of experiential 
 religion, or to box the ears of our theological dis- 
 putants and make them stop their wood-pussying 
 when the world’s afire. 
 
 Would you like to get back into the melee? I 
 sometimes get mad, and say I wish I were in the 
 thick of the fight. Then I say, “ No, if I were young 
 again, I’d take a couple of years in the wilderness 
 making up my mind about the real issue, then go in.” 
 After all, it is a comfort to sit still and watch the 
 battle until one can see the drift of the campaign the 
 Lord is directing. Big events are ahead, and immi- 
 nent, too. I am inclined to believe in a new Reforma- 
 tion period. 
 
 But enough of such ravelled stuff. The Lord bless 
 you and keep you, my dear fellow! And I know 
 He will. Love to the Missus, and Sydney. 
 
 , Affectionately as of old, 
 JameEs M. LupLow. 
 
XVIII 
 APPRECIATIONS 
 
A COMRADE. 
 
 TO REV. JOHN DIXON, D.D., AFTER HE HAD RETIRED 
 FROM THE BOARD. 
 
 We have walked the decks together, dear John, 
 In stormy and starry weather, dear John, 
 
 When she walked on an even keel; 
 And again when the deck was tipping, dear John, 
 Our footsteps sometimes slipping, dear John, 
 
 In the surge of the tempest’s reel. 
 
 We stood at the stern of the ship, dear John, 
 When western winds had their grip, dear J ohn, 
 And we saw our track was white. 
 The good old boat was racing, dear John, 
 A new day she was facing, dear John, 
 In her phosphorescent light. 
 
 As we counted the knots she made, dear John, 
 Were we not unafraid, dear John, 
 As she tunsted against the gale. 
 We steadily kept one eye, dear John, 
 On the sleepy stars in the sky, dear John, 
 And ran out an extra sail. 
 
 But now at the bow we stand, dear John, 
 
 In a look for a far-of land, dear John, 
 Another hand holds the wheel. 
 
 It is carefree satlors we are, dear John, 
 
 Our eyes to the evening star, dear John, 
 Let the old boat rock and reel. 
 
 When the hawsers grind and strain, dear John, 
 When on decks there is panic and pain, dear John, 
 We very well know what ts done, 
 ’Tis because they are tying together, dear John, 
 For pleasant or stormy weather, dear John, 
 Four ships to sail as one! 
 
 Ah, well! let them bump along, dear John, 
 As we watch for the evening star: 
 As we wait for the slow down bell, dear John, 
 And the Master’s call “It ts well,’ dear John, 
 And the lights of the harbor bar. 
 
 We stand at the bow together, dear John, 
 
 Arm in arm through the brightening weather, dear John, 
 On board the Pilot has come. 
 
 What light on the nearing lands? dear John, 
 
 ’Tis the house not made with hands, dear John, 
 Our good ship is nearing home. 
 
XVIII 
 APPRECIATIONS 
 
 (INCORPORATED IN THIS VOLUME At THE SUGGESTION 
 OF FRIENDS ) 
 
 RECOGNITION OF Dr. THompson’s 251TH ANNI- 
 VERSARY WITH THE BOARD. 
 
 The Chairman called the attention of the Board to 
 the fact that Dr. Charles L. Thompson began his 
 service as General Secretary of the Board twenty-five 
 years ago. Dr. Keigwin presented a resolution which 
 was adopted, following remarks participated in by 
 members of the Board and Staff, and during which 
 the Board heard with great pleasure from Rev. John 
 Dixon, D.D., and from Dr. Thompson. The resolu- 
 tion is as follows: 
 
 “In view of the fact that this annual meeting marks 
 the twenty-fifth anniversary of the entrance of Rev. 
 Charles. Thompson, D.D.,, LL.D.,..on “his duties..as 
 General Secretary, which took place March 1, 1898, the 
 Board records its gratitude to God for the signal service 
 Dr. Thompson has rendered during this time, not only 
 to the work of Presbyterian Home Missions, but to the 
 whole cause of American evangelization. 
 
 “During his administration and under his leadership 
 many of the departments that have been most effective 
 in reaching exceptional populations and handling excep- 
 tional problems (such as, Church and Country Life, 
 City and Immigrant Work, etc.) were inaugurated. We 
 rejoice that he is still with us and we now assure him of 
 our profound affection and admiration, and of our 
 
 267 
 
268 CHARLES LEMUEL THOMPSON 
 
 prayer that we may long have the delight of fellowship 
 and the inspiration of his presence with us. 
 
 “To signalize this quarter century of fruitful service, 
 the Board expresses its intention to erect on one of its 
 fields, as soon as it is able, a Charles L. Thompson Me- 
 morial Building.”—E-xtract from Minutes of the Board 
 of Home Missions of meeting held April 26th, 1923. 
 
 The Board of*National Missions of the Presbyterian 
 Church in the U.S. A. 
 
 The Board of National Missions would hereby 
 make recognition of the loss sustained in the very 
 recent death of Secretary Charles L. Thompson, D.D., 
 LL.D. His long and brilliant service to the cause of 
 Home Missions is a most notable contribution to the 
 church and the Kingdom. In him were happily com- 
 bined the elements of character and accomplishment 
 that constrained admiration, provoked confidence and 
 made for acknowledged Christian statesmariship. 
 
 Whether as faithful Home Missionary pastor, bril- 
 liant preacher in great city pulpits, Moderator of 
 Assembly, Secretary of the Board of Home Missions, 
 organizer and President of the Home Missions Coun- 
 cil (Interdenominational), or as representative to in- 
 ternational ecclesiastical gatherings, in all places and 
 at all times his one absorbing passion was for the set- 
 ting forward the interests of the Kingdom through 
 constructive missionary policies. 
 
 While deeply conscious of our loss of his fine fel- 
 lowship, personal friendship, wise counsels and in- 
 spiring leadership, we appreciate the greater loss to 
 the members of the charmed circle of his home. May 
 the assurance of the “ well-done-for-well-doing ” ac- 
 corded of the Master as welcome to the Heavenly 
 
APPRECIATIONS 269 
 
 Home temper their sense of sorrow. To them we 
 extend our heartfelt sympathy. 
 
 We know that “there is a prince and a great man 
 fallen this day in Israel.” We would take new devo- 
 tion to the things that commanded his every ambition 
 and would here re-dedicate ourselves to the enlarging 
 tasks committed to our hands that there may be af- 
 forded a consecration more worthy the name we bear 
 and a little more adequate to the cause we serve. 
 
 MEMorIAL TO CHARLES LEMUEL THOMPSON BY THE 
 Homes Misstons CouNcIL. 
 
 One of the outstanding leaders in the field of Home 
 Missions passed away in the death of Dr. Charles 
 Lemuel Thompson, April 14th, 1924. At the time of 
 his death Dr. Thompson was secretary-emeritus of 
 the Board of National Missions of the Presbyterian 
 Church of the United States of America and was 
 president of the Home Missions Council. 
 
 To Dr. Thompson, the Presbyterian church and the 
 catise of Home Missions in America owe a large debt. 
 He conceived of the missionary task of the church in 
 large and generous terms. Not content to simply plan 
 churches on the western frontier and in newly devel- 
 oping communities, he planned for and began to ad- 
 minister the tasks of his office in such forms as prac- 
 tically to create a New Home Missions. 
 
 At the same time Dr. Thompson entertained a 
 broader conception of the Kingdom of Christ than to 
 think of it as being embodied solely in one denomi- 
 nation. It was he who with others like the late 
 Hubert C. Herring, conceived the idea of the Home 
 Missions Council, which was organized in 1908. He 
 became its first president and remained in that posi- 
 
270 CHARLES LEMUEL THOMPSON 
 
 tion until the time of his death. With a wise and 
 judicious hand he guided the development of the 
 Home Missions Council until, having passed through 
 the preliminary stages of being little more than an 
 annual gathering in which a certain amount of good- 
 will was expressed and a measure of cooperative 
 spirit was released, it became a real storehouse of in- 
 formation, a strong and effective agency for uniting 
 forty-three different boards and societies of twenty- 
 seven different denominations in common plans and 
 real unity of purpose and action. Under his adminis- 
 tration a wide sweep of fellowship, of contacts, of 
 relations and of cooperations was made, which em- 
 brace subsidiary Home Missions Councils, under 
 varying names, in many states of the central west and 
 the northwest, and to no small extent in such distant 
 places as Alaska, the Hawaiian Islands, Porto Rico, 
 Cuba and Santo Domingo. 
 
 He was always large hearted and sympathetic. As 
 a pacifier he was well-nigh incomparable. For many 
 years past no clerical organization and no special 
 church function seemed complete without his presence 
 and without some utterance from his charming spirit. 
 
 Federal Council of the Churches of Chrest in 
 America. 
 
 The following memorial on the death of Dr. 
 Charles L. Thompson, prepared by Dr. Anthony, was 
 read and adopted by a rising vote. Dr. Speer ex- 
 pressed in prayer the thanksgiving of the Committee 
 for the life and service of Dr. Thompson. 
 
 “Dr. Charles Lemuel Thompson, who died April 
 14, 1924, in the eighty-fifth year of his age, closed a 
 career of efficient and eminent service, brilliant as 
 
APPRECIATIONS 271 
 
 preacher, administrator and home mission expert, 
 and leaves behind, in the minds of all who knew him, 
 memories of affection and influence, lasting and 
 inspiring. 
 
 “Serving in the ministry of the Presbyterian 
 Church in the United States of America, he had oc- 
 cupied many important pulpits, the last of which was 
 that of the Madison Avenue Presbyterian Church of 
 New York City, which he left in 1898 to become the 
 General Secretary of the Board of Home Missions of 
 the Presbyterian Church in the U. S. A., an office 
 which he held until 1914, and thereafter until his 
 death, sustained as Secretary Emeritus. 
 
 “It was Dr. Thompson’s distinction as a home mis- 
 sion administrator to conceive and carry into effect 
 many of the policies which have since come to be 
 regarded as the commonplaces of home mission ad- 
 ministration. To him, the problems of home missions 
 were not mainly those of territorial expansion; he saw 
 the necessity of receiving and assimilating the im- 
 pressive stream of immigrants to this country, of 
 Christianizing and guiding the industrial enterprises 
 of the nation and of bringing the messages of the gos- 
 pel in intelligible and effective forms to the many 
 groups and classes of people and to the followers of 
 strange cults and strange religions in all parts of the 
 country, in the cities and in the hamlets, in places 
 where the lumberman went in partial isolation, where 
 the miners were, and among the mountaineers. He 
 was one of the earlier statesmen of American mis- 
 sions to see the task as a whole and to fit the agencies 
 of the church for specialized and particular types of 
 missionary endeavor. 
 
 “At the same time Dr. Thompson entertained a 
 broader conception of the onward movement of the 
 
272 CHARLES LEMUEL THOMPSON 
 
 kingdom of Christ than to think of it as being em- 
 bodied solely in one denomination. He was singu- 
 larly interdenominationally minded and sought fel- 
 lowship with others who were working at similar 
 tasks to his own. He, with others like the late Hu- 
 bert C. Herring, conceived the idea of correlating and 
 coordinating the home missionary activities of the 
 different denominational boards in the Home Mis- 
 sions Council, which was organized in 1908. Dr. 
 Charles L. Thompson became its first president, and 
 remained in that position until his death. 
 
 “He was always large hearted, cordial, sympa- 
 thetic, touching every task, no matter how serious or 
 how grave and important, with a gentle element of 
 mirth and pleasantry which helped to illuminate many 
 an otherwise dark and perplexing problem and re- 
 lieved the strain of nerve and weariness when he and 
 his associates had struggled along in the midst of 
 conflicting interests. His gentle spirit seemed to 
 triumph over difficulties and obstacles. 
 
 “To Dr. Thompson was given in no small degree 
 the poet’s faculty of discerning beauty and of inter- 
 preting creative forces, both in nature and amongst 
 men. His authorship included not simply historical 
 accounts of his denomination and volumes upon the 
 progress of the Kingdom of Christ in American life, 
 but also the poetic products of an active imagination 
 and interpretive genius. He was a member of the 
 Author’s Club and of other similar organizations 
 which have been delighted to give him honor and 
 share in his fellowship. One of his biographers has 
 termed him ‘A Poet in Bonds,’ meaning thereby that 
 the poetic vision which he so largely possessed was 
 somewhat bound down and checked in its fuller ex- 
 pression by the duties of his administrative office. 
 
APPRECIATIONS 273 
 
 “In comradeship and fellowship none surpassed 
 him. | 
 
 “We speak these few words as a tribute of affec- 
 tion and gratitude for his life and his achievements.” 
 
 CHARLES L. THoMPSON—-A Port IN Bonps 
 By Warren H. Wilson, Ph.D. 
 
 “A long life was this of Charles L. Thompson, 
 who died at Atlantic City, April 14, 1924. He was 
 born in August, 1839, before the tide of immigration 
 began to flow from Europe, and he died in the year 
 in which it is limited by law to a minute per cent. of 
 the numbers to whom he gave the gospel. He was 
 ordained to be a home missionary when those humble 
 preachers faced westward in 1861, and before 1914 
 he had become the commander of the organized forces 
 of the churches facing eastward to evangelize the mil- 
 lions of the cities. He was a preacher at twenty-two, 
 calling sinners to repentance on the unbroken prairies. 
 When he was seventy-five he entered Geneva as a 
 delegate of the Peace Conference which was to call 
 kings and emperors to repent of war. Who shall say 
 that Wisconsin and Missouri farmers repented more 
 sincerely than the Hohenzollerns and Hapsburgs? 
 To both of them he was a romantic, a seer, and a 
 prophet. They were practical men. But when the 
 captains and the kings depart, and the long span of 
 his life is viewed as a whole, one sees Wisconsin now 
 peopled with churches and repentant, we may hope, 
 of pioneer sins; while Europe is converted to the hat- 
 red of war. 
 
 “He saw with a man’s eye the course of our two 
 greatest wars—the one that made us a united nation, 
 and the one that made us an international power. 
 
274 CHARLES LEMUEL THOMPSON 
 
 This home missionary became the administrator of 
 religion on a national scale and served as diplomat for 
 Christ in world concerns of the spirit. He led Ameri- 
 can churches, through the Home Missions Council, in 
 united acts for the peoples in jeopardy on the nation’s 
 margin, and he steadfastly looked over seas in the 
 later years for world-peace and unity. 
 
 “If the poet is a divinely stirred man, and, as some 
 believe, the one source of human improvement be- 
 cause of his faith, and stirs the imagination of others, 
 then Dr. Thompson was a poet; for he stirred men to 
 do what he never did himself. All his friends knew 
 that he was a poet. His verses are few, but he 
 greeted all seasons and holidays with a lyric voice. 
 His oratory was the rhetoric of deep organ tones. 
 But—more than all he said or wrote—was the poet’s 
 outlook on life. It characterized him. He was al- 
 ways a romantic. 
 
 ““A suppressed poet, however, for he came at a 
 prosaic time and spoke its language. What is a poet 
 without language? The early Victorian period in 
 which he acquired his vocabulary was austere and 
 given to euphemisms. He had the urge. He was 
 moved to music. But to his spirit the phrases of the 
 sixties, when he learned to speak, were as inadequate | 
 as a melodeon would be in the hands of a great organ- 
 ist. No doubt the decorum of the pastorate restrained 
 the expressions of his brilliant, many-flashing mind. 
 He was not born to see Greenwich Village at twenty, 
 or we might have had a rival to Vachel Lindsay. He 
 was born to see Wisconsin at twenty and was or- 
 dained at twenty-two, after studying at Princeton 
 when it was a fresh-water college town and at Mc- 
 Cormick Seminary in Chicago before the fire. He 
 learned oratory in the same school that trained Grady 
 
-APPRECIATIONS 275 
 
 and Bryan, but he needed the flexible medium of free 
 verse to express his interest in all things that lived. 
 
 “It was the poetical quality in him that inspired so 
 many different persons. His own family evidence 
 the imprisoned genius of his spirit, which has flowed 
 forth in their varied and brilliant careers. Think of 
 the many men he made to sing and to march. Charles 
 Stelzle, the mechanics’ preacher, was inspired to be 
 the master of crowds; and the Lumberjack Frank 
 Higgins to be a friend of millionaires; John Dixon 
 and Ernest McAfee to be his yoke-fellows in adminis- 
 tration. The leaders of competing home mission 
 boards he moved to abolish guerrila warfare of the 
 religious frontier. Charles L. Thompson was like 
 John Bunyan. But the prison in which his spirit 
 burned was the conventional restraint of the nine- 
 teenth century. 
 
 “ He was a great pastor. He served two churches 
 in rural Wisconsin, one in Cincinnati, Chicago, Pitts- 
 burgh, Kansas City, and New York, each in general 
 longer than the preceding. He was a New York 
 pastor in the last decade of the nineteenth century, 
 when ministers still wore frock coats. He became a 
 Secretary of the Presbyterian Board of Home Mis- 
 sions when the office consisted in large part of dignity, 
 but had behind it little of organization. Charles L. 
 Thompson had at least four consecutive careers which 
 he drove tandem, and he enjoyed three more on the 
 side. He was a home missionary before Wisconsin 
 had begun to be rich and intellectual, a pastor in New 
 York when it was a fashionable, church-going island, 
 a secretary during the infancy of Protestant church 
 administration, and a Christian diplomat through the 
 creative decades in which the churches formed their 
 ‘Holy Alliance.’ Three months before his death he 
 
276 CHARLES LEMUEL THOMPSON 
 
 sat at Atlantic City in the chair of greatest power 
 this side of Rome, the Presidency of the Home 
 Missions Council. He was its first President at its 
 formation in 1908, and it was the one duty he held 
 when he died. 
 
 “Only a few now living can recall ‘ Charlie 
 Thompson,’ the young home missionary in the ‘ Mid- 
 dle Border,’ who was preaching in Wisconsin when 
 Hamlin Garland, a dreamy lad, looked out from the 
 farmhouse in the coulee. The career of his known to 
 most men now living began when he was sixty. At 
 that time he became Secretary of the Board of Home 
 Missions. ‘That service he laid down in 1914, when 
 he was seventy-five. The members of that Board are 
 mostly gone from this life. Their meetings with him 
 now will not fail of a quorum. He came to the Board 
 when it was at 53 Fifth Avenue, and his office had 
 but one clerk. He left it in 1914 an elaborate organ- 
 ization for national service, with departments adapted 
 to express the sympathy of Christians for Indians, 
 Mexicans, wage earners, farmers, immigrants, Alas- 
 kans. His program of service was generously en- 
 dowed by millionaires, enriched by a steady stream of 
 legacies that evidence the confidence of lawyers, and | 
 it was sustained by an outflow of increasing contri- 
 butions. His plans were challenged by many and at- 
 tacked at one time by organized conservatism. But 
 his program had irresistible power of growth and it 
 has not been either halted or turned back. It forms 
 now the present basis of organization of the Home 
 Boards of all denominations. When some Presby- 
 terians were hesitant about following Charles L. 
 Thompson all other Protestants fell in line behind 
 him as their obvious chief and beloved commander. 
 After he ceased to command the Presbyterian organ- 
 
APPRECIATIONS 277 
 
 ization he continued to preside for ten years over the 
 Protestants. 
 
 “No languor of old age for this youthful spirit. 
 His oratory was indeed that of Storrs and Beecher; 
 his looks and bearing were of the statesmen like Glad- 
 stone and McKinley—and his leadership continued 
 into the day in which ministers speak and look like 
 business men—though his rhetorical methods were of 
 them both. But he survived as a loving, gallant heart, 
 tender to all women, with a wit suitable to every oc- 
 casion, long after he had made his last great speech 
 and moderated his last General Assembly. He kept 
 a greatness of spirit with him, without pretense, al- 
 ways affable, merry, witty; yet unbending from the 
 vision and the romance which held up his head to 
 the last. 
 
 “ He had the poet’s tragic sufferings to bear. Some 
 of the blows that crushed Job fell on him, but he 
 seemed to rise calmly through trouble. He always 
 faced adversity with gallant look and gentle manners. 
 And if he had moments of depression he never ap- 
 pealed to his associates for sympathy by peevishness 
 or punished the bystanders by resenting the acts of 
 his associates. There must have been the conviction 
 of God’s goodness in Dr. Thompson’s heart more deep 
 and high than most men have, for nothing either bad 
 or good, either hard or easy, disturbed his manner. 
 His bearing had to his last year the debonair confi- 
 dence of knight or prince who is sure of himself. 
 
 “ Dr. Thompson had two great qualities that are not 
 usually found in the romantic. He was a rare execu- 
 tive. During his years as Secretary of the Home 
 Mission Board he surrounded himself with assistants 
 until their offices filled nearly two floors. But he was 
 their chief. All decisions of the office were his de- 
 
278 CHARLES LEMUEL THOMPSON 
 
 cisions. His organization was that of a military staff. 
 The Board members then resident in and near New 
 York were equally obedient to his plans. Meetings of 
 the Board during sixteen years consisted of the read- 
 ing of his proposals from the desk and the unanimous 
 support of them by the members. I have heard an old 
 member say that he did not recall a single issue in 
 which the Board refused to support the Secretary or 
 passed a divided vote. 
 
 “A quality equally great was his sympathy with the 
 marginal people. The great population movements 
 found ready response in the mind of this clergyman. 
 In his seventh decade, when organized labor became 
 strong and aloof, he called Charles Stelzle to create a 
 Labor Department. When immigrants thronged the 
 gates of the land, ignorant of our ways and far from 
 their own pastors, he called William P. Shriver to a 
 Department of Immigration and sent brilliant stu- 
 dents upon graduation, not to study the libraries, but 
 the language and the ways of the peoples whose chil- 
 dren were in need of Christian ministry here. Mexi- 
 cans came across our borders and he sent the Mc- 
 Leans to shepherd them. Lumber camps appeared in 
 the great woods and he was quick to send Frank Hig- 
 gins as their apostle, to equip and reinforce him. 
 Church and Country Life was his title for the work 
 I was given to do. This responsiveness of Dr. 
 Thompson’s heart was perhaps greater, but no dif- 
 ferent, than the same quality in some other men. But 
 it was practical in him and he had the executive abil- 
 ity to mobilize his growing forces, to find supplies, to 
 equip and to inspire the leaders. One might come to 
 Dr. Thompson from any part, with any plan, and he 
 gave attentive hearing, swift decision and firm action. 
 Let the same man come a year later, or two years, and 
 
APPRECIATIONS 279 
 
 the matter stood clear in the mind of the great Secre- 
 tary. It was reopened as a going interest, considered 
 with unflagging buoyancy, and redirected for the new 
 future. So that men got in the habit of bringing to 
 him the needs of classes and groups of people to 
 whom the gospel would be a comfort and a stay. 
 “Those great sympathies of his reorganized our 
 whole Church work. When Charles Lemuel Thomp- 
 son began to preach he was a Presbyterian, and I sup- 
 pose he never revised radically his doctrinal outlook. 
 But he transformed the doctrinal Presbyterianism of 
 1861 until at his death the work of his church is ani- 
 mated by a great pity, a love of the poor and the 
 weak, a service as great as the nation and as mani- 
 fold as there are men on the earth. He emerged by 
 the pity and imagination that moved him from de- 
 nominational service to a Christian sympathy and 
 understanding in which the Protestant peoples are 
 one. It is very fitting that he remained until his death 
 the presiding officer of Protestant active service in 
 America. 
 “Tt seems to me that Charles Lemuel Thompson 
 was both in his faith, which was too great for prose, 
 and in the bondage which kept him regular, a Chris- 
 tian. He had faith and sacrifice. The faith was the 
 spirit of a great artist and the sacrifice fell only upon 
 himself. Happy life to live so long, until we who 
 knew him were the companions only of his old age!” 
 
 CHARLES L. THOMPSON 
 By Hermann N. Morse. 
 
 “Charles L. Thompson was many things in his 
 time—home missionary, master of a great metropoli- 
 tan pulpit, Moderator of the General Assembly, edi- 
 tor, poet, historian, board secretary. In any single 
 
280 CHARLES LEMUEL THOMPSON 
 
 one of his many roles he might have won a distinction 
 great enough to make him long remembered and 
 greatly honored. Taking them all together he stands 
 out as one of the most influential and eminent church- 
 men of his time. 
 
 “It is his religious statesmanship that impresses 
 one who knew him only in the closing years of his 
 life, and then not intimately, but who has known inti- 
 mately two institutions to which he gave his best years 
 of service, the Presbyterian Board of Home Missions 
 and the Home Missions Council. In them he gave 
 form and substance to his vision and his ideals. They 
 embody his two great passions—an America won for 
 Christ, won in every phase and aspect of its life, and 
 a Protestantism united in His service. 
 
 “In the nineties the Board of Home Missions had 
 fallen upon evil days. The great impetus of the pre- 
 ceding decades had spent itself. Those had been 
 glorious days in the annals of the church, when, fol- 
 lowing the Reunion, under the wise leadership of 
 Henry Kendall and Cyrus Dickson, the Board set its 
 face to the West and sent its missionaries along every 
 homesteader’s trail to the remotest settlements on the 
 frontier. Dickson, the orator, and Kendall, the or- 
 ganizer, fanned the interest of the church into a 
 flame and won the support that enabled the Board to 
 keep abreast of its task in rapidly moving days. But 
 there were no such leaders to take up what they, in 
 due course, laid down. The Board became heavily 
 involved in debt. It began to lose the confidence of 
 the church. Then in 1897 the General Assembly re- 
 organized the Board and authorized the selection of 
 one general secretary to direct its policies. The posi- 
 tion was offered to Dr. Thompson, then pastor of the 
 Madison Avenue Presbyterian Church of New York 
 
APPRECIATIONS 281 
 
 City. He accepted and began his duties in the fol- 
 lowing year. He remained as General Secretary until 
 1914 and thereafter, until his death, was Secretary 
 Emeritus. 
 
 “It was Dr. Thompson’s distinction that he con- 
 ceived and carried into effect many of the policies 
 which have since come to be regarded as the com- 
 monplaces of home mission administration, so much 
 so that it is easy to overlook how great a debt we owe 
 him. The contrast between 1898 and 1924 is start- 
 ling. For a hundred years home missions had been 
 concerned mainly with the problem of territorial ex- 
 pansion. The thought of the Church was absorbed 
 with the fact that the country was growing, that new 
 territory was opening up, that men were on the march 
 seeking new homes, that a thousand new communi- 
 ties were calling for the Church. The program of 
 home missions changed very little in a hundred years, 
 except that as the itinerant missionary followed the 
 moving frontier the settled pastor took his place. To 
 be sure the Assembly, from time to time, debated the 
 particular problems of the city or the country or the 
 immigrant. Here and there peculiar situations in- 
 sistently challenged attention. The Indian was from 
 the first an object of concern. New Mexico was 
 recognized to be different, and Utah, and Alaska. 
 But it was largely an undifferentiated service, reach- 
 ing usually the normal elements of the American 
 population. | 
 
 “Dr. Thompson saw that the single conception of 
 home mission work was no longer tenable since the 
 uniformity of circumstance which it presupposed no 
 longer existed. We had become an intricately com- 
 posite people. He saw that particular problems re- 
 quire particular methods and that a great central 
 
282 CHARLES LEMUEL THOMPSON 
 
 purpose must modify its approach according to the 
 circumstances which it faces. That idea, which was 
 soon to become the new orthodoxy, was, when it was 
 first put into operation, looked at askance by a church 
 which had never consciously concerned itself with 
 problems of adaptation. But its implications were in- 
 escapable when one saw what was being done to the 
 Church by the tremendous growth of cities, the rapid 
 influx of foreigners, the moving tides of migration 
 from country to city, the rapid industrial expansion, 
 the increasing tension between employer and worker 
 and the many fundamental changes taking place in the 
 ' industrial and social balance of our national life. 
 “Once the Board was freed from debt, which was 
 soon accomplished, it was Dr. Thompson’s task to 
 shape an organization that could adapt its program 
 to these many sided problems. Nineteen hundred and 
 three saw two forward steps in the establishment of a 
 ‘Workingmen’s Department’ and the organization of 
 the first distinctly Mountain Presbytery. In 1908 the 
 Workingmen’s Department became the Department 
 of Church and Labor and, in 1911, the Bureau of 
 Social Service. Galvanized by Charles Stelzle’s dyna- 
 mic personality it became a genuine national force. 
 In 1908 the Department of Immigration was estab- 
 lished, which later became the Department of City 
 and Immigrant Work; and in the same year a Depart- 
 ment of Indian Missions. A definite and distinctive 
 work in the lumber camps was begun at this time. 
 In 1910, after a year of preliminary study, a Depart- 
 ment of Church and Country Life was created. 
 When W. P. Shriver and W. H. Wilson were 
 brought into the Board’s service, adequate consider- 
 _ ation began to be given to those two most character- 
 istic and fundamental aspects of the church’s problem, 
 
APPRECIATIONS 283 
 
 the city and the country. Stelzle and Wilson adapted 
 the methods of the social survey to the uses of the 
 church. The demonstration idea was developed, the 
 idea of selecting strategic places for experimentation 
 in methods and demonstration of results. In 1914 a 
 Department of Mexican Work was added. 
 
 “These new ideas did not have all clear sledding 
 from the first. The church hailed them and then 
 criticized them. Stelzle left under fire and one Gen- 
 eral Assembly abolished the Department of Church 
 and Country Life, only to have the next Assembly re- 
 establish it. But they were sound ideas and they won 
 out and are today the commonplaces of all the larger 
 mission boards, which have developed their organiza- 
 tions and programs in recognition of the composite 
 nature of the home mission enterprise. 7 
 
 “The problem of inter-denominational comity was 
 not really a very serious one until the days of rapid 
 expansion following the Civil War. But from that 
 time on it steadily became more grave and perplexing. 
 Dr. Thompson gave enthusiastic and generous support 
 to every movement toward comity and cooperation. 
 The first important achievement in this direction was 
 the zoning of Porto Rico in 1901, by which denomina- 
 tional over-lapping was completely prevented. In 
 1908 a step of the utmost importance was taken in the 
 formation of the Home Missions Council. Dr. 
 Thompson was one of the prime movers in its organ- 
 ization and was its first president, continuing in that 
 office until his death. His wise judgment, patience 
 and far-seeing leadership have contributed not a little 
 to its steadily growing influence and effectiveness. 
 His last public appearance was at the annual meeting 
 of the Council in January last. 
 
 “Here is a man whom we know not how to praise 
 
284 CHARLES LEMUEL THOMPSON 
 
 as he deserves. We cannot yet measure the effects of 
 these things that he has achieved. There can be no 
 doubt that a large measure of the present effectiveness 
 of the church in the discharge of its mission task here 
 in America is due to the new conception of that task 
 for which he, more than any other man, is responsible. 
 It is not, therefore, too high praise to speak of him as 
 the outstanding religious statesman of this generation.” 
 
 CHarLES LEMUEL THOMPSON 
 Editorial in the Presbyterian Advance. 
 
 “ After sixty-three years in the Presbyterian minis- 
 try, Charles Lemuel Thompson, the most widely 
 known and honored Presbyterian of his generation, 
 passed away on April 14 in his eighty-fifth year. 
 
 “ Hearts are sad, a keen sense of personal loss op- 
 presses people all over the United States, as the news 
 travels that Dr. Chas. L. Thompson has been called 
 home. His noble spirit, his statesmanlike vision, his 
 powerful presentations of world need and Christian 
 duty, his wise counsel, his warm fellowship, his genu- 
 ine brotherliness toward high and low made him one 
 of the best loved, most trusted and most inspiring and 
 helpful leaders our great church—no, American 
 Protestantism—ever possessed and honored and de- 
 pended on. Absolutely dependable was Dr. Thomp- 
 son, and many of us feel that one of the strong stays 
 of life has been taken away in the passing of this 
 father in Israel. But his had been a long life. The 
 welcome home is richly deserved.” 
 
 GALLANT SOUL—STATESMAN’S MIND 
 Editorial in The Continent. 
 “A strong man’s meed of honor belongs to the be- 
 
APPRECIATIONS 285 
 
 loved memory of Dr. Charles L. Thompson, just now 
 gone before. A strong man indeed—and yet one of 
 the gentlest of souls. He served greatly, but he took 
 no greatness to himself—always he was one among 
 his brethren unconscious of distinction and ready with 
 the openest heart to share anybody’s burden. 
 
 “ His denomination called on him in a time of bitter 
 contention among home mission leaders to become the 
 reconciling chief of its Home Board. Strength was 
 required, and boldness too, to enter into that tense 
 situation. Yet strength and boldness alone would not 
 have made bad matters better. Added was Dr. 
 Thompson’s just and equable kindliness, which early 
 commanded the trustful good will of all parties to 
 former disagreements. So fortified, he moved stead- 
 ily on to successes that must be historic. For almost 
 two decades he was the inspiring leader of the greatest 
 advance in this aspect of Christian service that the 
 Presbyterian Church has yet made in any equal 
 period. 
 
 “ Within this time there came about the great change 
 in American conditions which has been described as 
 the “reversal of the American frontier.” The old 
 task of planting churches in new communities of the 
 great west approached completion. At the same time 
 the influx of aliens into the eastern and central states 
 created other communities more needy religiously 
 than the west’s pioneer villages had ever been. Mean- 
 while, also, the oldtime country church, which had 
 been the very fountain of the nation’s piety, was dis- 
 covered in grievous decay. Home missions perforce 
 had to turn its face east to the original seat of 
 Americanism. 
 
 “This altered face of his board’s task Dr. Thomp- 
 son recognized with direct and positive measures. The 
 
286 CHARLES LEMUEL THOMPSON 
 
 creation of departments for the immigrants and for 
 the country church was a radical acknowledgment of 
 new duties ina new time. But these innovations were 
 minor compared with what Dr. Thompson did when 
 he invited Charles Stelzle from St. Louis to create 
 within the board a ‘ department of labor.’ This was 
 the first extension of home missions into the realm of 
 the social gospel, and the results that have flowed 
 from it mark the act as epoch-making. All men of 
 understanding today applaud it as notable statesman- 
 ship. But then quite naturally it was not wholly 
 understood. 
 
 “ Opposing reactions were intensified by the fact that 
 at the same time Dr. Thompson was moving as boldly 
 in another direction. His soul revolted at economic 
 waste and unspiritual bigotry cursing towns where 
 rival evangelical churches, kept up by home mission 
 money, were fighting for possession of ground where 
 only one or two could survive in strength. To secure 
 a comity that would forestall this unchristian conflict, 
 Dr. Thompson brought about the organization of the 
 interdenominational Home Mission Council, of which 
 he continued president till his death and through 
 which has been wrought a vast diminution of rivalry 
 which this great secretary hated.” 
 
 A Home MIssIoNArY STATESMAN 
 From The Missionary Review of the World. 
 
 “ Seventy-four years ago a pioneer home mission- 
 ary riding horseback in Wisconsin discovered a boy’s 
 red cloak in the road. He pushed on and soon dis- 
 covered the boy and won his lifelong friendship. 
 Under the guidance of that home missionary and in 
 answer to a mother’s prayers, that boy was diligent in 
 
APPRECIATIONS 287 
 
 his studies and finally went to Carroll College, where 
 he was graduated at nineteen. He entered Princeton 
 Theological Seminary and was graduated from 
 Northwest Seminary (now McCormick). Years of 
 effective pastoral work followed in Juneau and Janes- 
 ville, Wisconsin, and in Cincinnati, Chicago, Pitts- 
 burgh, Kansas City and New York. 
 
 “In times of civil and ecclesiastical strife and in 
 the equal perils of peace and plenty Charles L. 
 Thompson thus served many kinds of churches from 
 frontier to metropolitan, among rich and poor, down- 
 town and on the avenues. He showed versatility and 
 unusual ability as a preacher, orator, poet, editor and 
 administrator. In 1888, when he was pastor of the 
 Second Church in Kansas City, then the most influ- 
 ential church in the Central West, years before he 
 became noted as an executive and missionary leader, 
 he was elected Moderator of the Centennial General 
 Assembly. He was called soon after to the Madison 
 Avenue Church of New York City, and during his 
 ten years’ pastorate there, was a member of the Board 
 of Home Missions, of which he became the General 
 Secretary in 1898. In this capacity he served sixteen 
 years and ten years more as Secretary Emeritus. Up 
 to the end he continued to devote much of his time 
 and energy to promotional work for the Board and 
 for the Church at large as represented in the Federal 
 Council of the Churches of Christ in America, and in 
 the Home Missions Council, which he founded in 
 1908, and of which he was President for sixteen 
 years. His last public appearance was at its annual 
 meeting in Atlantic City last January. 
 
 “Dr. Thompson’s literary labors were varied and 
 fruitful. He was one of the founders of ‘Our 
 Monthly,’ which had a brief career in Cincinnati, 
 
288 CHARLES LEMUEL THOMPSON 
 
 with a brilliant resurrection in ‘ The Interior’ in Chi- 
 cago, long edited by himself and Dr. W. C. Gray, and 
 now continued in ‘The Continent.’ He published 
 many poems, delved into the study of the beginnings 
 of America and published volumes on ‘Times of Re- 
 freshing’ (a history of American Revivals), ‘ The 
 Story of the Presbyterian Church,’ ‘ Religious Foun- 
 dations of America,’ ‘The Soul of America,’ and 
 ‘Etchings in Verse.’ 
 
 “Dr. Thompson was always intimately associated 
 with strong men. Many of them were fighters, but 
 his only fights were for righteousness and for the ad- 
 vancement and unity of the Church he loved, not a 
 sectarian organization but the Kingdom of Christ on 
 earth. 
 
 “Probably few realize how much Dr. Thompson 
 did along educational lines. Long before he became 
 Secretary of the Home Board and had to do officially 
 with the Presbyterian mission schools, he had been 
 active as a trustee of the Western University of Penn- 
 sylvania and of Park College, as well as of various 
 academies. Probably his last interview on church 
 work was with President J. Will Harris, head of 
 the Polytechnic Institute of Porto Rico, which is to 
 have a memorial building to testify to Dr. Thomp- 
 son’s interest in the Christian training of Latin 
 America. 
 
 “No other man has contributed more to the 
 Church’s conception of the greatness and variety of 
 its Home Mission task. To his leadership and far- 
 seeing wisdom is chiefly due the great extension of 
 the service of the Home Board during the opening 
 years of the twentieth century. 
 
 “Men of smaller caliber or of weaker Christian 
 character could not have stood the tests Dr. Thomp- 
 
APPRECIATIONS 289 
 
 son stood. Under a mere fraction of the public difh- 
 culties and, the private afflictions he suffered many a 
 strong man has gone down, or at least has been so 
 embittered as to lose for a time his hold on himself 
 and on his God. Dr. Thompson’s faith but grew 
 sweet and strong with the years. His influence will 
 be correspondingly more lasting. 
 
 “One cannot yet measure the full results of his 
 achievements, but a large measure of the present ef- 
 fectiveness of the Church in the discharge of its 
 mission task in America is due to the conception of 
 that task for which he is largely responsible. 
 
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