tihvavy of tht tA\to\o^\ca\ ^mimvy 
 
 PRINCETON • NEW JERSEY 
 PRESENTED BY 
 
 Delavan Pierson 
 
 BX 7260 .S3 A4 1919 
 Schauf f ler , Adolphus 
 
 Frederick, 1845-1919. 
 Memories of a happy boyhood 
 
Digitized by the Internet Archive 
 in 2014 
 
 https://archive.org/details/memoriesofhappybOOscha 
 
MEMORIES 
 
 OF A 
 
 HAPPY BOYHOOD 
 
The Author 
 
MEMORIES 
 
 OF A 
 
 HAPPY BOYHOOD 
 
 ^^Long Ago, and Far Away*' 
 
 ADOLPH FREDERICK SCHAUFFLER 
 
 "yl Happy Childhood is a Heritage from God " 
 
 New York Chicago 
 
 Fleming H. Revell Company 
 
 London and Edinburgh 
 
Copyright, 1919, by 
 FLEMING H. REVELL COMPANY 
 
 New York : 1 58 Fifth Avenue 
 Chicago: 17 North Wabash Ave. 
 London: 21 Paternoster Square 
 Edinburgh : 75 Princes Street 
 
TO 
 
 Wife 
 
FOREWORD 
 
 NOT infrequently as I have told my wife 
 of various experiences of my life in 
 Constantinople, she lias said that I 
 ought to put them down, and have them 
 printed, for the sake of my various nephews 
 and nieces and grand-nephews and nieces. I 
 have always postponed such action, thinking 
 it hardly worth the while, hut at last it has 
 seemed to me that the younger generation 
 might be interested in such memories of my 
 early years as I could recall. This will ac- 
 count for this little volume printed for private 
 circulation. 
 
 My father was born in Stuttgart on August 
 22nd, 1798. His father, Philip Frederick 
 Schauffler, was a master Turner. Those were 
 the years when Xapoleon was beginning his 
 wonderful career. In 1804, my grandfather 
 headed a large company of Wui'tembergians, 
 whom the Czar Alexander of Eussia invited 
 to take up their abode in his dominions. He 
 offered to German farmers and to German 
 master mechanics very advantageous terms. 
 7 
 
rOEEWORD 
 
 In response to this, my grandfather led a 
 group of three hundred and eighty-nine Ger- 
 mans over into Russia. Those were not the 
 days of railroads, much less of motor cars, or 
 of lorries. Things were done deliberately. It 
 took this particular hand of Germans nine 
 months to cover the road between Stuttgart and 
 Odessa. My grandfather located in Odessa, and 
 from then on for twenty-two years Odessa was 
 the home of my father, the story of whose 
 many experiences during his earlier years you 
 will find in his autobiography. 
 
 Leaving there in 1826, my father arrived in 
 Boston in i^ovember of that same year, and 
 soon found his way to Andover, Massachusetts. 
 There he remained studying with prodigious 
 intensity for five years. After that he returned 
 to Turkey, where he met my mother, who had 
 gone out as a single lady missionary, and there 
 they were married. She was Mary Reynolds 
 of Longmeadow, Massachusetts, of direct Puri- 
 tan ancestry. She was born on April 13th, 
 1802. Thus my parentage on one side is pure 
 German, on the other side pure American, while 
 I was born and brought up in the Ottoman 
 Empire until I left for college. 
 
 All this will explain somewhat my profound 
 interest in all politics that deal with the near 
 8 
 
r<DKEWOED 
 
 East and by near East I mean the Balkan 
 peninsula, and Egypt, and all that lies between 
 those two countries and India. 
 
 A. F. S. 
 
 November, 1918. 
 
 9 
 
ILLUSTRATIONS 
 
 TACING PAGE 
 
 The Author Title 
 
 Our Home in Bebek i6 
 
 The Yacht Alberta in Bebek Bay . . . .44 
 
 The Schauffler Family 46 
 
 The Castle of RoumeU Hissar 66 
 
 11 
 
Memories of a Happy Boyhood 
 
 My Starting Point 
 
 I WAS born in Pera, one of the European 
 suburbs of Constantinople, on !N'ovember 
 the 7th, 1845. My parents were mission- 
 aries of the American Board. 
 
 Shortly after I saw the light of this world 
 and while we were spending the summer at 
 Bebek, a village six miles north of Constanti- 
 nople, on the Bosporus, one of those fearful 
 fires which plagued Constantinople broke out 
 near our house in Pera. At that time all the 
 streets in the city were very narrow. ^Tearly 
 all the houses were built of wood. At the same 
 time the fire department was absolutely ridicu- 
 lous, the only fire engines being worked by 
 hand. 
 
 The origin of this particular fire was in the 
 house of a Greek, who had in his little sitting 
 room a picture of the Virgin, before which an 
 oil lamp was constantly burning. As a result 
 the wall space around the Virgin's picture was 
 covered with soot. A spark from the wick of 
 13 
 
MEMOEIES OF A HAPPY BOYHOOD 
 
 the oil lamp lodged on that soot and began to 
 spread. Eising from his seat, the Greek said, 
 "I will spit you out." This expedient, how- 
 ever, proved vain. He then went out into the 
 yard to get a pail of water from the well, hut 
 the door with a spring latch slammed to, and 
 before he could get back the fire had so spread 
 that the pail of water was not sufficient. About 
 one thousand five hundred houses went down, 
 before the fire ceased, and among them our 
 house, with pretty much all there was in it, 
 except a few books from my father's library, 
 which some kind neighbors near by succeeded 
 in saving. 
 
 Of course we knew nothing of all this until 
 we heard of the devastation caused by this dis- 
 astrous fire. As a result of this misfortune, 
 our home was permanently located in Bebek, 
 where I was brought up and lived, until I came 
 to the United States to go to college. As there 
 were no English schools for boys in Constan- 
 tinople at that time, I was early sent to a Ger- 
 man school, taught by a capital German school- 
 master, of whom I cherish the kindliest memor- 
 ies. At that lime I could talk German better 
 than English and had to help myself out in my 
 mother tongue with German words. 
 
 My early recollections of household life are 
 14 
 
MEMOEIES OF A HAPPY BOYHOOD 
 
 largely those of severe economy. I remember 
 hearing father say to mother, ^'Mother, no 
 sugar." Then for some weeks, until the balance 
 of the budget had been re-established, our days 
 were sugarless. At other times he would say, 
 "Mother, no butter." Then followed butterless 
 days. We boys took these things for granted 
 and made no fuss about them at all. To save 
 our carpets they were always taken up in the 
 summer, and we walked on bare floors. 
 
 At the same time, we noticed that there was 
 never any economy exercised along educational 
 lines. We always had the advantage of the best 
 school and the best music and drawing masters 
 that the city could afford. The impression thus 
 made on us was that while in matters physical, 
 rigid economy was often called for, in matters 
 intellectual it cut no figure. The result of this 
 in the education of us four boys (we had no 
 sisters) can easily be understood. 
 
 As I was the youngest of the four, the 
 economy practiced in the matter of clothes was 
 somewhat of a trial to me. The trousers of 
 my brothers as they outgrew them used to 
 descend in due time to the youngest. Thus for 
 many years, I never wore a pair of trousers 
 without a couple of patches on them. This to 
 me was somewhat humiliating, and resulted in 
 15 
 
MEMORIES OE A HAPPY BOYHOOD 
 
 imwillinguess to take off mj coat in the presence 
 of other boys, lest my patches should be called 
 to their attention. I well remember the first 
 pair of trousers I ever wore that were patchless, 
 and my legitimate pride in this experience. 
 
 In our house obedience was one of the first 
 rules that was enforced. There was never any 
 arguing on the part of us children to secure a 
 change of the parental verdict. We were 
 taught to understand that "Yes'' meant "Yes," 
 and "Xo'' meant "Xo,'' and that was the end 
 of it. That this conduced to our happiness I 
 thoroughly believe. 
 
 Among my earliest recollections is that of a 
 bitter lesson that I learned on account of my 
 youthful folly. Going to town one day with 
 my father, I saw a pink rubber balloon in a 
 shop window. My heart went out toward that 
 novelty, and I told my father that I wanted to 
 buy it. Going into the shop he found that the 
 price was one dollar, and said to me, "My dear 
 boy, it's not worth the money." To this I 
 replied, "Father, I have a dollar (which I had 
 saved), and I want that balloon." "Get your 
 balloon," he said, "though I don't think it's 
 wise." I bought the balloon and went home with 
 it full of joy and pride. The rest of that day I 
 lorded it over my brothers, for I had a balloon 
 16 
 
MEMOKIES OF A HAPPY BOYHOOD 
 
 and they hadn't. On going to bed that night, 
 I let the balloon up to the ceiling. The next 
 morning I arose unusually early to play with 
 my balloon. Instead of being up at the ceiling, 
 however, it had collapsed and was under the 
 table. Then my brothers laughed at me, an(} / 
 then, I regret to say, I hated them. I had j 
 lost my balloon and had lost my dollar, and • 
 was inconsolable. The memory of this perform- ) 
 ance, however, was of much value to me in ' 
 after years. I had learned my lesson. 
 
 At another time when I must have been 
 about twelve years old, I had earned two hun- 
 dred piastres, or about eight dollars, by copying 
 reports for missionary friends. I went to town 
 and drew this money and started home feeling 
 like a Croesus, for I had never owned so much 
 money in my life, and this had been money 
 honestly earned by hard toil. I went on board 
 the steamer to take me up to our village on the 
 Bosporus, and unfortunately went to sleep. 
 When I waked, my money was gone, and I 
 was in despair. My father permitted me to 
 stand the loss for about two weeks, and then 
 he said, "I^ow you have learned your lesson, 
 here's your two hundred piastres.'' This ex- 
 perience wrought well for me, and I am per- 
 suaded that my father was right when for two 
 17 
 
MEMOEIES OF A HAPPY BOYHOOD 
 
 weeks lie allowed me to go without my money, 
 so as to bum into my boyish, mind the necessity 
 of caution. 
 
 Early Altrnism 
 
 During these earlier years of my life, be- 
 fore I entered the teens, the ximerican Board 
 started a subscription among children inter- 
 ested in their work, for the building and equip- 
 ment of a missionary schooner to be called 
 ^'The Morning Star.'' Shares in this schooner 
 were to be ten cents. ISTews of this reached 
 us in Constantinople and at once my boyish 
 heart was set on owning a share. I had no 
 money, however, and my mother suggested that 
 I get to work to earn some. She said that if 
 I would get up before breakfast every day, 
 and dust the dining room and the sitting room, 
 she would give me a cent a day. Like all 
 other boys, I hated to get up in the morning, 
 but a new incentive had been added to my life 
 and for ten days the two rooms mentioned were 
 carefully dusted, and I got my ten cents. This 
 t experience was so pleasant that I worked 
 another ten days and in this way I became the 
 owner of two shares in 'The Morning Star." 
 'No railroad shares that I have ever owned 
 since, have seemed to me as precious as those 
 18 
 
MEMOEIES OF A HAPPY BOYHOOD 
 
 two ten-cent shares, and the fact that I had 
 earned the money by self-denying work was no 
 small source of gratification. How much better 
 it was for my mother to have me earn the 
 money than to give it to me outright. 
 
 The earliest missionary work that I ever did 
 was in connection with the Crimean War. At 
 one time during that War, we had a French 
 camp on the hills just behind Bebek, contain- 
 ing about ten thousand soldiers awaiting their 
 embarkation for the Crimea. My elder 
 brothers used to carry ^^'ew Testaments up to 
 the French soldiers. In this work I joined 
 them, though I was still too young to act in 
 any other way than as porter, and lug up a 
 hand-bag full of Testaments to the hill behind 
 us. This involved a climb of about four hun- 
 dred feet and a walk of two miles. This we 
 did times out of mind. We never got more 
 than about two hundred yards into the camp, 
 before we were surrounded by French soldiers 
 anxious to get copies of the Xew Testament. 
 ^^Tien our supply was exhausted, w^e used to 
 take down the names of those soldiers who de- 
 sired to have copies. At our next visit these 
 soldiers of course were the first to be served. 
 At that time (I was less than ten years old) 
 I could not talk French so that my brothers 
 19 
 
MEMORIES OF A HAPPY BOYHOOD 
 
 had to do the talking and I simply acted as 
 burden-bearer. 
 
 In view of much of the modern psychology, 
 which teaches that children do not develop 
 altruistic motives until about the time of adoles- 
 cense, my experience is somewhat significant, 
 for here I was, far from adolescent, and yet 
 willing day after day to lug up this load of 
 Testaments to the French soldiers, and here I 
 was willing to work hard to own shares in 
 ^'The Morning Star." This leads me to think 
 that a good deal of the modern paidology is 
 more fantastic than it is in accordance with 
 fact. During many years of experience with 
 children in a very large Sunday School in ^^^ew 
 York City, I have found that altruism among 
 children below the adolescent period can very 
 easily be cultivated, and that many of them are 
 more truly altruistic than they are apt to be 
 after they reach the age of adolescence. 
 
 The Crimean War 
 
 In 1853, the Crimean War broke out. 
 Though I was only eight years old, I took a 
 keen interest in all that went on. English, 
 French, Sardinian, and Turkish troops swarmed 
 in Constantinople, and ships of the English, 
 French and Turkish navies were constantly 
 20 
 
MEMORIES OF A HAPPY BOYHOOD 
 
 passing up and clo^vii the Bosporus in plain view 
 from our house. We boys soon learned the 
 names of these ships. Of course most of them 
 were sailing ships, only a very few being steam- 
 ers. Full well do I remember, when the Crimean 
 War came to its close, the friendly race that 
 the English, French and Turkish navies made 
 across the Black Sea from Eupatoria to Con- 
 stantinople. It was a grand sight to see them 
 going down the Bosporus. There were single- 
 deck frigates, double deckers and three deckers. 
 The ship that won the race was the MaJimou- 
 diek, the Turkish Admiral's three decker. 
 This filled us boys with pride because the 
 builder of the winning ship was an American, 
 by the name of Rhodes, and as we boys were 
 thoroughly American, we gloated over that fact. 
 
 Of course we were quite cognizant of the 
 abominable condition of the British Commis- 
 sariat Department, during the first year of the 
 Crimean War. It was truly atrocious. Official 
 red tape and blundering abounded on every 
 hand. 
 
 I remember an English captain coming to 
 our house that first winter, full of rage. At 
 that time the Queen's soldiers were fighting 
 in the trenches in front of Sebastopol in their 
 stocking feet. This Captain had come out with 
 21 
 
MEMORIES OF A HAPPY BOYHOOD 
 
 a cargo of shoes, and had sailed to Eupatoria 
 to deliver his goods. When he reported there 
 to the powers that be, thev asked him if he had 
 orders to land the boots. To this he replied, 
 ''No." The answer was, "Then go back to 
 Constantinople and get your orders.'' There 
 was nothing for it but to sail back three hun- 
 dred miles across the Black Sea to Constanti- 
 nople, get his orders and return to the Crimea. 
 To say that he was swearing mad is to put it 
 mildly. 
 
 Another Captain came to our house who had 
 been sent out with a shipload of plum puddings 
 for the Queen's soldiers at Christmas time. 
 When he got to Eupatoria the same question 
 was asked of him, as to his orders. As he had 
 no orders to land he was ordered back to Con- 
 stantinople. This order he refused to obey, 
 and using his own crew he landed all the plum 
 puddings on the dock. But John Bull had no 
 orders to lay hands on his own plum puddings. 
 The French, however, smelled them out, and 
 promptly proceeded to open the boxes, and then 
 invited John Bull to partake of his own plum 
 pudding in French tents. 
 
 As further illustrating this shiftlessness dur- 
 ing that first year on the part of the English 
 officialdom, I may say that the British wounded 
 
MEMOKIES OF A HAPPY BOYHOOD 
 
 sent back from the Crimea to Constantinople, 
 were all cared for in the great hospital at 
 Scutari, on the Asiatic side of the Bosporus. 
 There were not beds enough for the poor men 
 and so scores of them were laid flat on the 
 floor. First aid to the injured was non-ex- 
 istent in those days, so they came down in the 
 clothes in which they had been wounded, and 
 of course were in shocking condition. The rats 
 in this hospital were legion and used to attack 
 these poor delirious soldiers at night, biting 
 them and sucking their blood. It was an awful 
 state of affairs. To no masculine mind did it 
 ever occur to get a good Scotch terrier. As 
 soon, however, as Florence Nightingale arrived 
 and knew of this, she secured a terrier whom 
 we called Crimean Bess. The first night that 
 the terrier arrived, she was shoved down into 
 the cellar and the door was shut. The next 
 morning they went do^vn to see whether Bess 
 was alive or dead. They found her "faint yet 
 pursuing'' although much bitten up. In the 
 center of the cellar they saw a pile of rats, all 
 killed by faithful Bess. They counted the rats 
 and there were just seventy of them. In this 
 way Florence J^^'ightingale, with the co-opera- 
 tion of this clever dog, cleared the hospital of 
 rats, to the infinite joy of the poor Tommies. 
 23 
 
MEMORIES OF A HAPPY BOYHOOD 
 
 I had a pup of this Crimean Bess whom I 
 cherished and who was of very great vahie to 
 us as a watch dog. At last old age was too 
 much for my Tray and he went the way of all 
 dogs, leaving me with my boy's heart sorely 
 wounded. 
 
 Wliile writing these memories I have read 
 the book called ^'The Xew Revelation," by Sir 
 Arthur Conan Doyle, in which he sets forth 
 his acceptance of much of the modern spiritual- 
 istic creed. Among other proofs of the truth 
 of communications from departed friends in the 
 other world, he cites the following calling it 
 ^^critic-proof.*' The case refers to a man who 
 takes the name of Captain James Burton. This 
 man's father had died. A year after his death 
 Captain Burton claims that he received a com- 
 munication from his father which he describes 
 as follows: 
 
 ''Unknown to me, my mother who was stay- 
 ing some sixty miles away lost her pet dog 
 which my father had given her. The same 
 night I had a letter from him condoling with 
 her and stating that the dog was now with him, 
 and saying all things which love us and are 
 necessary to our happiness in the world are 
 with us here." 
 
 Xow I loved my dog Tray who was very 
 24 
 
MEMOEIES OF A HAPPY BOYHOOD 
 
 faithful, but if he were to be with me in the 
 next world there would be trouble for the 
 dog spoken of in this communication, for my 
 dog Tray fought every dog in Constantinople 
 he ever saw, big or little, and if he came across 
 the dog spoken of above, I am quite confident 
 that he would attack instantly. I would like to 
 know for my own edification what Sir Arthur 
 Conan Doyle's opinion would be as to what 
 would happen if these two canine creatures met 
 on the other side of the line. 
 
 After the first year of the Crimean War, 
 the defects in the British Commissariat De- 
 partment were fully remedied, so that by the 
 end of the War the English army was really 
 in better shape than was that of France. 
 
 At some time during this war the United 
 States frigate ''Cumberland" came into port. 
 Of course we Americans all paid her a visit. 
 While we were on board, the British dispatch 
 boat "Caradoc," a side-wheeler, arrived, hav- 
 ing made a record trip from Malta. At once 
 the ''Cumberland" saluted her. The guns of 
 the "Cumberland" were of much heavier cali- 
 ber than those of any warship that had visited 
 Constantinople. I never shall forget the pride 
 with which we boys listened to the overwhelm- 
 ing racket made by her cannon. The im- 
 25 
 
MEMORIES OF A HAPPY BOYHOOD 
 
 pression on all in Constantinople made by this 
 salute was most favorable to the armament of 
 our American single-deck frigate. This ^'Cum- 
 berland" is the same frigate as that which in 
 1862 went to the bottom, being sent there by 
 the ''Merrimac" during our Civil War, before 
 our little ''Monitor" came into action. 
 
 While I am on the question of the Crimean 
 W^ar, I might say that I remember well an Irish- 
 man by the name of O'Flacherty, who later on be- 
 came a missionary and lived in Constantinople. 
 He had been a private in the British Army, 
 and we boys delighted to listen to his stories 
 of his Crimean experiences. One of them I 
 remember with peculiar distinctness. 
 
 He was at the battle of Inkerman, when the 
 Russians turned out their troops from Sebas- 
 topol, to make an attack on the English lines. 
 O'Flacherty was in the front rank of British 
 troops who stood behind a knee-high embank- 
 ment, awaiting the Russian assault. A fog 
 in the valley below them entirely obscured the 
 Russian advance, but they heard the steady 
 tramp of Russian regiments crossing the bridge 
 over the Tshernaya River. O'Flacherty told us 
 that he was so filled with fear that either his 
 knees had to knock, or his teeth had to chatter. 
 He was bound that his elbow-neighbors 
 26 
 
MEMORIES OF A HAPPY BOYHOOD 
 
 should not hear his teeth chatter, so he 
 clenched his jaws and let his knees knock. 
 Presently the front rank of the Eiissian ad- 
 vance appeared out of the mist. Then the 
 British order came, ''Up, boys, and at them.'' 
 With that they leaped over the bank and 
 charged with the bayonet. From that moment, 
 during all the rest of the fierce fight, O'Flach- 
 erty's fear disappeared. They drove the Rus- 
 sians down the hill, across the river, and back 
 into Sebastopol, and he himself had not a single 
 scratch. 
 
 At the outbreak of the Crimean War there 
 was no bread to be had in Constantinople, ex- 
 cepting leavened bread, and of course that was 
 sour. The British sick in the hospitals at 
 Scutari could not stomach that kind of bread. 
 Dr. Cyrus Hamlin, D. D. (later on President of 
 Robert College) was a typical New Englander 
 and a kind of Jack-at-all-trades, but good at all. 
 He conceived the idea of supplying the British 
 soldiers with yeast bread. For this, however, 
 he had to erect a mill for the grinding of the 
 flour, and establish a bakery on a very large 
 scale. With Yankee ingenuity he succeeded, 
 to the great joy of the British soldiers both in 
 and out of the hospitals. 
 
 Out of this operation Dr. Hamlin netted a 
 27 
 
MEMOEIES OF A HAPPY BOYHOOD 
 
 profit of tT\'enty-five thousand dollars, all of 
 which he put into Armenian-Protestant 
 churches in Turkey. 
 
 Soldiers then as now encountered the terrible 
 enemy called in modern parlance ' 'cooties." In 
 one large storehouse just opposite our village 
 of Bebek, there were thousands of garments 
 that had been discarded, on account of these 
 terrible Crimean cooties. Xo one dared touch 
 them, and no one had any means of cleansing 
 them. Again Yankee ingenuity in the person 
 of Dr. Hamlin canae to the front, and he or- 
 ganized a gigantic laundry and invented a new 
 type of washing machine. He then entered 
 into a contract to cleanse all those awful gar- 
 ments. As was to have been expected, he suc- 
 ceeded and restored to the authorities thousands 
 of garments fit for wear. Out of this per- 
 formance he netted some thousands of dollars, 
 and this, like his profit from the bakery, went 
 into missionary work. 
 
 At the close of the Crimean War Dr. Ham- 
 lin went back to his work as missionary of 
 the American Board. In due time, however, 
 he became convinced that the establishment of 
 a College for the native youth was an im- 
 perative necessity. As a result of this convic- 
 tion he slowly got to work and in the Sixties 
 28 
 
MEMOEIES OY A HAPPY BOYHOOD 
 
 started Robert College. This college is now 
 one of the great institutions in Turkey. It is 
 not the only college, however, for there are 
 colleges in Beirut, Smyrna and Marsovan, as 
 well as a girls' college in Constantinople. All 
 these are doing good work. 
 
 A Sultan's Follies 
 
 The vagaries of the Turkish mind form a 
 part of my boyhood's memories. The Sultan 
 had seven palace physicians each of whom by 
 turn remained at the palace for twenty-four 
 hours. Our family physician, Dr. Millingen 
 (formerly Lord Byron's physician), was one 
 of these. In addition to these seven medical 
 men, the Sultan also had a dentist, a French- 
 man, Dr. de la Rue by name. 
 
 The French have a proverb, "Qui va a la 
 Chasse perd sa Place" ; which being Anglicized 
 reads, "Who goes on the chase loses his place." 
 
 One day the Sultan got a toothache and or- 
 dered his dentist to appear. The dentist being 
 off shooting, the courtiers said that they could 
 not get him. 'Not one of them seems to have 
 known of another dentist in town. Full of 
 pain, the Sultan roared out, "Get me a dentist." 
 It then occurred to one of the courtiers that 
 he had seen a dentist's gilded tooth hanging out 
 29 
 
MEMORIES OF A HAPPY BOYHOOD 
 
 in a street in Galata. Here a starving dentist 
 was pulling teeth at twentj-five cents apiece. 
 At once a courier was sent up, with a horse 
 for the dentist^ to bring him to the palace. The 
 poor dentist, however, had no proper suit of 
 clothes in which to appear before royalty. The 
 courier switched him on to the horse, took him 
 to a ready-made clothing store and bought him 
 a suit. Then down to the palace they hasted. 
 The Sultan's trouble was a decayed tooth. This 
 the dentist extracted and lol his royal highness 
 had relief. 
 
 Xow mark the Oriental result. Dr. de la 
 Rue was deposed and the new dentist put in 
 his place. He was also created a pasha, or lord 
 of the realm. He was given a palace in the city 
 and a palace in the country, and a large salary. 
 The end of this story, however, is not so happy. 
 The newly made pasha lost his head, and pro- 
 curing a revolver he presented himself before 
 the Admiral and threatened to shoot him. Hav- 
 ing him arrested the Admiral said, "Who is 
 this man?'' He was then told the story as 
 given above. At once the Admiral ordered his 
 carriage and drove to the palace. "Your 
 Majesty," he said, "that dentist whom you 
 made pasha yesterday has just threatened to 
 shoot me.' "Has he?" said the Sultan. "Send 
 30 
 
MEMORIES OF A HAPPY BOYHOOD 
 
 him here." So the dentist reappeared before 
 his Majesty, who then took awav his two 
 palaces, his title, and his salary, and shoved 
 him back into his previous quarters to pull 
 teeth at twenty-five cents apiece. 
 
 Yerily what Rudyard Kipling says is still 
 true, ^^East is East and West is West, and never 
 the two shall meet." 
 
 Talking about the Sultan, I remember that 
 during the Paris Exposition of 1867, the then 
 Sultan, Abdul Aziz, planned to visit Paris. 
 Isow it was an accepted Ottoman doctrine that 
 wherever an Ottoman Sultan sets his foot, he 
 is ruler of that realm. The serious question 
 then came up how the Sultan could visit Paris 
 and still not claim dominion over that city. 
 The doctors of law ruled, however, that this 
 was an exceptional case. They said that no 
 Sultan had ever trodden any land that was not 
 his, for wherever he had gone he had conquered 
 (this is nearly historically true), but in this 
 case he went as guest, and therefore a century- 
 long Ottoman claim could rightly be suspended. 
 
 In starting in his own yacht for Marseilles, 
 the Sultan left Constantinople in the evening. 
 This involved steaming all night to reach the 
 Dardanelles. Xow the Sultan had never spent 
 a night on a steamer. ^Yhen his usual bed- 
 31 
 
MEMOEIES OF A HAPPY BOYHOOD 
 
 time came, he said to his attendants, ^^Why do 
 they not stop the engines so that we can sleep 
 peacefully To this the reply was that steam- 
 ers on long journeys traveled by night as well 
 as by day. "iSTothing of the kind," said the 
 Sultan, "anchor at once and let me sleep." 
 They then dropped anchor, which never reached 
 ground but hung all night from the chains, and 
 the Sultan went to bed. All through his trip 
 to Marseilles unless they could anchor in some 
 convenient port, this was the rule, and the re- 
 sult was, first that the Sultan slept without 
 noise of engines (this w^as the period before 
 dynamos), and second, that the voyage to Mar- 
 seilles was considerably prolonged. 
 
 AVhen the Sultan came to run by rail from 
 Marseilles to Paris, he was astonished at the 
 neat clothing of all the French farmers. Turn- 
 ing to his leading pasha he said, '^\\Tiy are not 
 my farmers clothed as well as these ?" To that 
 his prime minister replied, "Your majesty, 
 they are." i^ow the Sultan knew that he was 
 to return from Paris to Constantinople over- 
 land, and he laid up his prime minister's state- 
 ment in his memory. The prime minister 
 knew that the Sultan would do this, so he 
 bought thousands on thousands of blouses in 
 France and sent them ahead, obliging the farm- 
 32 
 
MEMOKIES OF A HAPPY BOYHOOD 
 
 ers in Turkish territory to purchase them, prob- 
 ably at an advanced price. When the Sultan 
 and his suite reached the Sultan's territory, the 
 prime minister triumphantly pointed out the 
 spick and span new garments that all Turkish 
 farmers were wearing. 
 
 This, like many other incidents that I have 
 narrated, is truly oriental in concept and in 
 execution. 
 
 Father's Linguistic Ability 
 
 My father was a great linguist, being master 
 of nineteen languages, living and dead. Natur- 
 ally we boys reaped much advantage from his 
 linguistic ability, so that I hardly remember 
 the time when I could not speak five languages, 
 namely English, French, German, Greek and 
 Turkish. 
 
 As my father was very musical and played 
 the flute like a professional, we used to have 
 musical gatherings at our house every Friday 
 night. Here we discoursed classic music, 
 chiefly German and Italian. We had a regular 
 string quartette, to which were added flute and 
 piano, so that our musicals were quite an event 
 in the neighborhood and English, American, 
 German, French, and Italian friends would 
 gather to enjoy Beethoven, Mozart, Verdi, 
 33 
 
MEMOEIES OF A HAPPY BOYHOOD 
 
 Bellini and other composers. During these 
 evenings seven languages were steadily used, 
 namely English, French, German, Italian, 
 Turkish, Greek and Russian. In all this babel 
 of conversation, my father was the only one 
 that could meet every one of those present in 
 his own tongue. Most of the guests could 
 handle four or five languages. He was the only 
 one that could handle seven. In this connection 
 I might say that my father was able to preach 
 extempore in seven languages. There are not 
 many men living to-day who could duplicate 
 this ability. 
 
 Sorely Wounded 
 
 In 1857, my father and mother went to 
 America, leaving two of us boys in Constanti- 
 nople. After a year they returned and I went 
 down to the steamer to meet them, l^aturally 
 in that year I had grown considerably. After 
 my mother had kissed me, she put her hands 
 on my shoulders and stood me back and ex- 
 claimed, "Why, Fred, how you have grown!" 
 Standing by her side was an Englishman 
 named Kerr (well named I think). He at 
 once said, ^'Yes, ill weeds grow apace." That 
 moment I hated him, for I felt that I had done 
 my duty in growing, and he had no business 
 34 
 
MEMORIES or A HAPPY BOYHOOD 
 
 to say what he did. I expect to meet that man 
 in heaven, for he was a Christian. At the same 
 time, when I do meet him, the first thing I 
 shall remember (not bitterly of course) will be, 
 you said ^^111 weeds grow apace." I mention 
 this simply as a specimen of how children can 
 be sorely wounded by the thoughtlessness of 
 those of mature years. 
 
 Boyish Perplexities 
 
 When I was a boy we used to go across the 
 Bosporus to play with the children of an Eng- 
 lish banker's family, whom I need not name. 
 Of course I noticed the difference between their 
 environment and that of our own home. These 
 boys had servants, riding horses, boats, and all 
 manner of luxuries. I remember sometimes 
 thinking in a vague kind of way, ^'Why have 
 these boys so much and I so little?" I was 
 never jealous of them, but oftentimes was per- 
 plexed at the difference of our surroundings. 
 
 In 1914, when I was a guest of Mrs. Ken- 
 nedy on the yacht "Alberta," we lay in the little 
 harbor of Bebek, and on the European shore 
 I saw our old house, and on the Asiatic the 
 house of my banker friend. Then I recalled 
 an early incident in my experience as city mis- 
 sionary in New York. 
 
 35 
 
MEMORIES OF A HAPPY BOYHOOD 
 
 I then received a letter from a member of 
 the banker's family, saying that one of the boys 
 with whom I had played in my childhood was 
 in l^ew York, and was in distress. The ad- 
 dress that they gave me was one on Bleecker 
 Street. At once I went down to visit him. I 
 found him in a tumbled down rookery, in the 
 attic, sick in bed. In the course of the conversa- 
 tion I said to him, "How did you ever come 
 here?" 
 
 To this he replied, "I was sent to London 
 to represent our firm. There I got to playing 
 the horses and lost and lost again. At last I 
 had to forge to make up my losses. Then the 
 police got after me. I fled, and here I am — 
 a pauper." He soon passed away and except- 
 ing his three children, I was the only mourner 
 at the funeral. 
 
 All this came back to me on that yacht in 
 1914, and I must say that then and there I 
 praised the Lord for having heen brought up 
 poor instead of rich. 
 
 In my early teens I was converted, not 
 through any revival or any especial effort on the 
 part of anyone. Of course my early training 
 had been strongly evangelical. Full well do 
 I remember when my conscience began to 
 awaken. I knew I was a sinner. I knew that 
 36 
 
MEMOEIES OF A HAPPY BOYHOOD 
 
 no man could save me. But I resisted the in- 
 fluence of the Holy Spirit for four months 
 steadily. At last conscience spoke still more 
 loudly, and never shall I forget the day when 
 I went into my little room without saying a 
 word even to my mother, and locked the door. 
 Then and there I made up my mind that I 
 would not leave that room until the matter 
 was settled between my Saviour and myself, 
 i^ever shall I forget the time when, after long 
 consideration, I kneeled down and made my sur- 
 render of myself to Christ as my Saviour and 
 my Master. That little room is to me the dear- 
 est spot on earth, for there I believe I passed 
 from death to life. Every time that I have 
 been back to Bebek since then, I have gone into 
 that room and have praised the Lord for the 
 experience through which I passed in my early 
 teens. 
 
 Suggestive Experiences 
 
 During those early days of definite Christian 
 experience, I used to read two chapters in the 
 Bible every morning and every evening. Pres- 
 ently I found that I was rushing my reading, 
 and not getting very much good from it. I was 
 also inclined to rush my prayers. A very help- 
 ful book on private devotions came into my 
 37 
 
MEMOKIES OF A HAPPY BOYHOOD 
 
 hand at the time, and I remember the advice 
 it gave, which was, that it was not the amount 
 of Scripture that we read in daily devotion that 
 did us good, but the way in which ive read; 
 that a short passage read, thought over and 
 applied to one's own life, was of more impor- 
 tance than a long passage galloped through. I 
 also learned that it was not the length of prayer 
 that counted, but the strength of the prayer. 
 This changed my practice in Bible reading and 
 prayer, much to my spiritual advantage. 
 
 Many years after this, while I was deeply 
 engrossed in the study of psychology, my faith 
 in a personal God began to wane. I can now 
 see that it was because I was being puffed up 
 by my metaphysical researches. At that time 
 I knew the bitter experience of kneeling down 
 and saying, ^^0 God, if there is a God, help 
 me.'' 
 
 One night after uttering this despairing 
 prayer, I arose from my knees. It was a clear, 
 frosty, winter night in IsTew England. In a 
 kind of black despair, I threw up the window 
 and looked up into the heavens. Every star 
 shone with frosty brilliancy. Instantly there 
 came to my soul like a voice directly from 
 heaven, ''The heavens declare the glory of 
 God." I closed the window in absolute assur- 
 38 
 
MEMOEIES OF A HAPPY BOYHOOD 
 
 ance that the message given me was true. That 
 was the end of all my skeptical hallucinations, 
 and for that experience I praise my Father in 
 heaven. 
 
 My Newspaper 
 
 I must have been about twelve or thirteen 
 years old when it occurred to me that I should 
 like to edit a small weekly. There were no 
 papers at that time published in Constantinople 
 that I can remember, and I thought that a little 
 weekly, giving items of news about our mis- 
 sionary circle, might be interesting to members 
 of that group, and bring financial remuneration 
 to the editor. So I got to work. My paper 
 was a little four-page quarto paper, written out 
 with my own hand. It was called "The Ek- 
 mekdje," which is Turkish for the Bread 
 Man. The price was eight piastres a year, 
 equal to thirty-two cents. I kept this paper up 
 for about nine months and then it went the 
 way of all men. I made a little money by it 
 and gained much experience. Most of the 
 paper was made up by scissor work, but the 
 balance consisted of such scanty news items of 
 personal interest to my readers as I could 
 scrape together. I still have copies of that 
 editorial venture which certainly are curiosities. 
 39 
 
me:^ories of a happy boyhood 
 
 All during my childhood, we celebrated 
 Christmas with a Christmas tree, after the 
 true German fashion. In a deep alcove in our 
 parlor, intended originally for the display of 
 Icons, father would annually construct a beau- 
 tiful landscape. This landscape, together with 
 the tree, was a great joy to all the English, 
 American and German children of the neighbor- 
 hood. They were all invited to the celebration. 
 Before, however, we were allowed to go into 
 the parlor where the tree and the landscape 
 stood, we had religious service and all children 
 who knew any Christmas hymn were encour- 
 aged to rise and repeat it. Then we all joined 
 in singing and in thanksgiving for the first 
 Bethlehem Christmas, so different in all re- 
 spects from that which we were celebrating. 
 Then father and mother went into the parlor 
 and lighted the tree and the landscape. Father 
 then sounded a trumpet and with that we ran, 
 in riotous manner, from the outside room into 
 the parlor, and feasted our eyes on the tree 
 and landscape as well as on the pile of presents 
 that were stacked up under the tree. Great 
 joy was ours, and great joy was that of the 
 adults who watched their children having such 
 a rapturous time. 
 
 40 
 
MEMOEIES OF A HAPPY BOYHOOD 
 
 Musical Awakening 
 
 Father played the flute like a professional, 
 and he wanted me as a boy to learn the same 
 instrument. Somehow or other it never com- 
 mended itself to me, to my father's great dis- 
 appointment. He seemed to reach the conclu- 
 sion that I had no musical bent in my make-up. 
 In my early te^ns, however, there came a noted 
 European 'Cellist to Constantinople, Feri 
 Kletzer by name, and he was scheduled to give 
 a concert in Pera. My father was going with 
 my elder brothers, but proposed to leave me at 
 home. I begged so hard, however, to go, that 
 he took me with him. ISTever shall I forget my 
 experience at that concert. It was like a revela- 
 tion to me. N^ever had I heard such music 
 and never had I been so entranced. I privately 
 made up my mind that that was the instrument 
 that I would learn. But as I knew my father 
 entertained very slight hopes of my musical 
 talent, I said nothing to him about it. I went 
 off and bought a cheap 'Cello, and a book of 
 instruction, and at once began to fl.ddle away 
 on my own account. My much surprised 
 father watched me, wondering why I had put 
 my few earnings into this instrument. (It was an 
 abominable instrument but the best I could buy 
 41 
 
MEMOEIES OF A HAPPY BOYHOOD 
 
 with my earnings.) As soon, however, as father 
 saw that I really meant business, he got me a 
 better instrument and secured the services of 
 the best 'Cello teacher in town. Suffice it to 
 say that before long I was quite able to take 
 my brother Edward's place as 'Cellist in the 
 quartette, when Edward went to college. 
 
 Presently I found that I could venture on 
 the easier 'Cello solos, with piano accompani- 
 ment, and at last I was able even to tackle com- 
 positions by Romberg. VThal joy I have had 
 out of classical music since those days, no tongue 
 can recount. 
 
 The Lady Beautiful 
 
 While General Williams was our Ambassador 
 in Constantinople, my brother 'Ned was his 
 dragoman. The Ambassador had two charming 
 daughters, who were exceedingly popular 
 among the various attaches of the Diplomatic 
 Corps. The older of these daughters was a 
 startlingly beautiful and attractive young lady. 
 At one time she was not very well and the 
 doctor advised her not to dance at the Diplo- 
 matic balls, as she had been doing. As she 
 was somewhat headstrong, her father requested 
 Ned to see the various attaches, and ask them 
 not to request her to dance. This my brother 
 42 
 
MEMORIES OP A HAPPY BOYHOOD 
 
 did. There was, however, one attache who 
 insisted on asking her to dance, much to her 
 disadvantage. 
 
 At that time there was in Constantinople a 
 Hungarian, General Hauch bj name, a refugee 
 from Hungary, because of the revolution of 
 1848. He was a burly, heavily-built man. 
 When "Ned told him about this attache's re- 
 fusal to be governed by our Ambassador's 
 request. General Hauch promptly said, 
 '^Schauffler, let us go and visit him. He lives 
 up two flights of stairs. When we get to his 
 room, you insult him to his face. You are 
 very lightly built and he will probably attack 
 you. I will then pitch in, and kick him down 
 both flights of stairs, and teach him a lesson." 
 "Ned agreed and together they went to the 
 attache's apartment. Fortunately, for the man 
 at whom they were aiming, he was not at home 
 and so was saved an unusually rapid descent of 
 two flights of stairs. 
 
 This General Hauch, who had been a cavalry 
 general, used often to come to our house. As 
 father was very well posted with regard to 
 all the l^apoleonic wars, he used to tell stories 
 of various incidents in that great emperor's 
 campaigns. One time at the table father was 
 describing in his usual brilliant way the battle 
 43 
 
MEMOKIES OF A HAPPY BOYHOOD 
 
 of Leipzig. When he came to the tremendous 
 cavalry charge of twenty thousand allied 
 troops against the French, all at the table 
 stopped eating to listen. With tremendous 
 brilliancy father brought that cavalry charge 
 down on the French, and drove it through their 
 lines. General Hauch sat entranced, and in his 
 face were both amazement and admiration. 
 W^hen father got through, all this cavalry gen- 
 eral said was, ''My God, you ought to have been 
 a general of Hussars." 
 
 While taking about our Ambassador's 
 daughter, I might make a frank confession. 
 Though much my senior, she completely car- 
 ried my boyish heart by storm, and I fairly 
 adored her. One evening at their house we 
 were playing Forfeits, and the forfeit given 
 to me was ''Bow to the wittiest, kneel to the 
 prettiest, and kiss the one you love best." 
 Promptly I rose and bowed to one, and kneeled 
 to my fair divinity, and then stood still. On 
 that she said, "Fred, why don't you go ahead ?" 
 To this I replied, "I am afraid." She then 
 answered, "Whom do you want to kiss?" and 
 my laconic reply was "You." Imagine my 
 amazement when she said, "Well, why don't 
 you go ahead ?" I did. 
 
 44 
 
MEMOEIES OF A HAPPY BOYHOOD 
 
 Nightingales 
 
 All around our village of Bebek, in the 
 spring, the nightingales made night vocal. To- 
 ward evening one time I was rowing on a little 
 river, called by the Turks ^'The Heavenly 
 Waters of Asia." It empties into the Bos- 
 porus just opposite our village. Suddenly I 
 heard a nightingale beginning to sing. On 
 stopping to see where the songster might be, 
 I located it in the branches of a tree overhang- 
 ing the river. As I had never seen a night- 
 ingale, I backed my caique gently up until I 
 was beneath the branches of this tree. Looking 
 up I saw the nightingale, the first and only 
 one I have ever seen. It was a little larger 
 than a sparrow, and the same general gray- 
 brown. The nightingale looked at me for a 
 moment and then, concluding that no harm was 
 near, it started its song again. I was within 
 six feet of it, and sat there perfectly enrap- 
 tured at the trills of which the nightingale is 
 master, as no other bird is. 
 
 Taking about nightingales reminds me of the 
 last evening that we spent on the yacht ^ ^Al- 
 berta" in Bebek harbor in 1914. It was a 
 beautiful May evening and in May-time the 
 Bosporus is simply Paradise. The full moon 
 45 
 
MEMOKIES OF A HAPPY BOYHOOD 
 
 had risen, and on every hand the nightingales 
 were pouring forth their matchless melodies. 
 All of our company on the ^'Alberta/' but espe- 
 cially Dr. John Henry Jowett, were in a kind 
 of ecstasy. Suddenly we heard the melody of 
 human voices, and then we saw that the teachers 
 from Robert College were approaching our 
 yacht in seven boats, lashed together. They 
 had come to serenade us on the eve of our de- 
 parture. For us to sit on the deck of the 
 yacht in such surroundings with such a sweet 
 farewell, aroused emotions beyond the possi- 
 bility of words to express. After they had sung 
 their last song, they slowly rowed away, still 
 singing, and we listened breathlessly as their 
 voices died out in the distance. I do not think 
 that any member of our party will ever forget 
 that bewitching hour, in the midst of such en- 
 trancing surroundings. 
 
 Aim in Life 
 
 During all my boyhood days, father was ac- 
 customed from time to time, when fitting op- 
 portunity presentpd itself, to talk to us boys 
 about the Bible, about its history, its biography, 
 its doctrines. These were most enlightening 
 talks and I never shall cease to be grateful for 
 46 
 
« 
 
MEMOEIES OF A HAPPY BOYHOOD 
 
 the firm foundation that he laid in our minds 
 for the right apprehension of Biblical truth. 
 
 I always intended to be a minister, but I 
 do not remember how I reached this conclusion 
 or when. I merely took it for granted and was 
 well satisfied with my aim in life. From this 
 decision I never wavered by a hair's breadth. 
 I think this was much to my advantage. As 
 I advanced in years and came to college, I was 
 surprised to see how many men were wavering 
 in their decisions, as to their life-calling. It 
 seems to me now that they were handicapped 
 in much of their college work, because they had 
 not decided along what lines their permanent 
 activities were to be directed. l^ow they 
 seemed to incline in one direction, and a few 
 months later in another. This indecision cer- 
 tainly was no advantage to them. 
 
 Varied Experiences 
 
 During my boyhood, after father began the 
 translation of the Bible into Turkish, we had 
 a Mohanunedan scribe who aided him, living 
 in our house. From him we boys learned good 
 Turkish. Many w^ere the evenings we spent 
 in his room, he telling us sundry and various 
 Eastern stories, going as far back as the Arabian 
 Nights literature. I well remember quite a 
 47 
 
MEMOEIES OF A HAPPY BOYHOOD 
 
 nuinber of these whicli had an Oriental hmnor 
 about them peculiarly their own. One of them 
 was as follows: 
 
 A starving man went into a bakeshop and 
 there smelling the savory odors that filled the 
 place, satisfied his appetite. On his declaring 
 that he was no longer hungry, the proprietor 
 of the bakeshop demanded of him the price of 
 a meal. Of course a dispute arose between 
 the two, and they adjourned to the Kadi for 
 final settlement of their difficulty. The Kadi, 
 on finding that the starving man had eaten 
 nothing, but had been satisfied with the smell 
 of the viands, gave his judgment as follows: 
 
 "As this man has eaten none of your food, 
 but has been satisfied with its smell, he will 
 put some money into a tin pan, and jingle it in 
 your hearing, until you are satisfied with the 
 sound. He will then take his money and go 
 his way.'' 
 
 Like all eastern countries Turkey in those 
 days was much plagued with the cholera. As 
 they knew nothing about cholera bacillus and 
 the contamination of water, and as the water 
 supply in most Turkish cities was very poor, 
 the ravages of that disease were terrific. 
 Apropos of this the story is told that a man 
 living in Smyrna heard that the cholera was 
 48 
 
MEMOKIES OF A HAPPY BOYHOOD 
 
 coming. On that he packed up and cleared out. 
 On his journey from that city he met the 
 cholera and the following dialogue took place: 
 
 '^Where are you going V' said the man. 
 
 "I am going to Smyrna/' the cholera replied. 
 
 ''How many are you going to kill this time 
 
 "This time I shall kill 25,000.'' 
 
 After this brief conversation they parted. 
 Later on hearing that the cholera had left 
 Smyrna the man started back and again he met 
 with that fell traveler. Kesuming the dia- 
 logue of some months before the man said : 
 
 "You are an awful liar." 
 
 "What makes you say that ?" 
 
 "You said when I met you going to Smyrna, 
 'I shall kill 25,000,' but you actually killed 
 50,000." 
 
 "I am no liar," was the reply, "I killed 
 25,000 as I said, and fear killed the other 
 25,000." 
 
 After father entered the Turkish work, we 
 had regular Sunday services in our house con- 
 ducted in Turkish. Of course this helped us 
 boys to a better use of the language. Here we 
 had all manner of Turks coming to hear the 
 Gospel, but chiefly men of the more intellectual 
 class. Quite a number of Dervishes used to 
 come, who always paid respectful attention and 
 49 
 
MEMORIES or A HAPPY BOYHOOD 
 
 never controverted what was set forth. Thej 
 only asked for further light along religious 
 lines. 
 
 For many years father also conducted a regu- 
 lar morning preaching service for the Germans 
 who lived in Bebek, so that in our house there 
 was regular divine service for a long time in 
 two languages, namely German and Turkish. 
 
 While I am talking about Turkish I might 
 mention the fact that some few missionaries 
 sent out from home without any linguistic talent 
 or training, were prone to think that they could 
 preach in Turkish before they were really quali- 
 fied to do so. One marked instance of this 
 presumption I well remember. 
 
 A young missionary, who shall be nameless, 
 felt that he could preach in Turkish. Father 
 assured him that he was not sufficiently master 
 of the language to venture upon it so soon, 
 but as he urged very hard, a reluctant consent 
 was given. We boys of course were present. 
 Imagine our surprise when he began by trying 
 to say 'Tet us pray," though what he actually 
 said was, ''Let us make a wall." The reason 
 for this mistake was that the phrase ''Let us 
 pray," in Turkish was "Duva edelim," while 
 the phrase "Let us make a wall" was "Duvar 
 edelim." 
 
 50 
 
MEMOEIES OF A HAPPY BOYHOOD 
 
 When he started in to pray, he meant to ask 
 that God would enlighten us. In place of that 
 he actually asked that God would make donkeys 
 of us. The Turkish petition for enlightenment 
 would have been ^'Bizi iishliklendir." The 
 Turkish for "Make donkeys of us," is "Bizi 
 esheklendir." We boys were taught never to 
 laugh if anyone made any mistake in the use 
 of a foreign language, nor did we laugh at this 
 time, which was a token of our remarkable 
 self-control. 
 
 We always had family prayers both morning 
 and evening. First we sang, then the Bible was 
 read, each one having a Bible and reading two 
 verses, turn about. In this way we went 
 through the Bible excepting of course the long 
 chapters of genealogies. Our knowledge of the 
 Bible as a whole was enormously benefited by 
 this reading of the Word twice a day for three 
 hundred and sixty-five days in the year. We 
 could get along with the proper names in the 
 Old Testament, much better than some gradu- 
 ates of theological seminaries in our country, 
 whom I have heard stumble atrociously when 
 they came to Hebrew proper names. 
 
 51 
 
MEMOEIES OF A HAPPY BOYHOOD 
 
 I Turn Nurse 
 
 As illustrating what fell to my lot some- 
 times, let me say that after my brothers had 
 left for college and I was the only boy at home, 
 father had a serious fall and had to go to bed 
 for a number of days. At this same time 
 mother was also in bed having had an attack 
 of pulmonary hemorrhage. They were in dif- 
 ferent bedrooms. As we had no maid in the 
 house, I would take what the cook brought up- 
 stairs, and prepare two trays, one for father and 
 one for mother, thus having the joy of minister- 
 ing to them in their time of need. At that time, 
 which was before 1862, mother rather expected 
 that her end was drawing near. Little did she 
 think that she still had thirty-two years of life 
 before her. 
 
 In our house in Bebek there was absolutely 
 no plumbing. A bath tub was an unheard of 
 luxury. The whole house was heated with 
 stoves. At one time when father was sick with 
 rheumatism the doctor prescribed hot baths. 
 To carry out this prescription we had to borrow 
 a portable bath tub. All the water had to be 
 carried up (both hot and cold) two flights of 
 stairs in pails. This was no small job and gave 
 us boys considerable exercise in carrying up 
 52 
 
MEMOEIES OF A HAPPY BOYHOOD 
 
 two pails apiece in sufficient quantities to fill the 
 bath tub. So far as I know at that time no 
 missionary, and practically no foreigner, had 
 stationary bath tubs in their houses, and yet 
 they managed to keep clean. We carried out 
 Florence ^Nightingale's teaching that anyone 
 can keep clean that wants to, who has a wash 
 bowl, wash rag, hot water and plenty of soap. 
 
 Visit to Odessa 
 
 Before I came to college, father took me over 
 to Odessa twice, where we visited his two sisters. 
 One of them was a widow whose husband had 
 been Provost of all the South Russian Lutheran 
 churches. The husband of the other was, at 
 the time of our visit, occupying the same official 
 position. It was in Odessa that I heard father 
 preach more like an inspired man than ever 
 before. 
 
 In my uncle's church there had been a split, 
 and a certain nimiber of members had with- 
 drawn and formed an independent Lutheran 
 church under the leadership of a Pev. Mr. Can- 
 didus, a rationalist. Here the old gospel was 
 certainly not preached, but some new fangled 
 doctrines finding their origin in Germany. Be- 
 cause father had so many friends from the olden 
 time among these ComenDuters, Mr. Candidus, 
 53 
 
MEMOKIES OF A HAPPY BOYHOOD 
 
 felt obliged to ask father to preach. For the 
 first time I saw him preach in a black gown. 
 Utilizing his opportunity, father preached for 
 one hour on the gospel of the grace of God 
 (of course in German). He seemed to me at 
 that time like an inspired man, and I listened 
 with a kind of amazed fascination. He held 
 the congregation spell-bound as he set forth the 
 way of salvation through faith in a crucified, 
 risen, and ascended Savior. At the close of 
 the sermon the disgusted pastor said to one of 
 his parishoners, ^What I have been six years 
 in building up, this Schauffler has torn down in 
 one hour.'' 
 
 During these two visits in Odessa, father 
 traveled through the German villages in South 
 Eussia, preaching in every village. His going 
 and coming was like a triumphal procession. 
 They always sent four-horse carriages for him 
 which to me as a boy was a great luxury. The 
 villagers turned out to meet him on his arrival 
 and turned out again to give him God-speed on 
 his departure. 
 
 From one of these villages it was arranged 
 that I should return to Odessa alone in the stage 
 coach. I knew no Russian excepting the few 
 words that my father had taught me. He had 
 directed me how to inquire in Odessa for the 
 64 
 
MEMOKIES OF A HAPPY BOYHOOD 
 
 Lutheran Church, how to direct the droshky 
 driver right and left, and how to tell him to 
 stop. On that trip we were due to arrive in 
 Odessa about nine o'clock in the evening, but 
 the roads were so abominably muddy that we 
 were endlessly delayed. Our stage had seven 
 horses, namely four pole horses and three lead- 
 ers. Eepeatedly we sank in the mud so deep 
 that the driver ordered all passengers out. We 
 then all put our shoulders to the wheels, and 
 what with lashing of the seven horses and the 
 combined efforts of the passengers, we got the 
 stage coach out of one mud hole after another. 
 The result was that we reached Odessa at 
 1 A. M. instead of 9 p. m. I took a droshky and 
 ordered him to drive to the Lutheran Church. 
 After we had driven for a few moments I saw 
 that I was headed for the outskirts of the city. 
 In a droshky, the passenger is seated just 
 behind the driver and can touch his shoulder. 
 I touched the man on the shoulder and said 
 again, ^^To the Lutheran Church." He shook 
 his shoulder and drove on. Then I remembered 
 that my grandfather had been driven in the 
 same way to the outskirts of the city, and then 
 been robbed, and the driver had driven off at 
 full speed. Thinking in my boyish mind that 
 this was probably the scheme of my driver, it 
 55 
 
MEMOKIES OF A HAPPY BOYHOOD 
 
 seemed to me that I must do something decisive. 
 I had with me a large American hunting knife, 
 given to me by our Ambassador's son in Con- 
 stantinople. It had a terrible blade. This 
 knife I then drew and holding it up in the moon 
 light repeated again, ''To the Lutheran 
 Church.'^ The driver looked back, saw the 
 knife, and instantly whirled his horses aroimd 
 and drove like mad to my uncle's church. I 
 paid him, feeling grateful that I had got out of 
 the scrape so easily. 
 
 I then had to climb over the wall, as the 
 gate to the enclosure was shut. Here I felt 
 myself in almost greater danger than while I 
 was in the droshky, because my uncle kept a 
 private watchman and I feared that if he saw 
 me climbing over the wall he might shoot. 
 Suffice it to say that I got through safely, and 
 in the morning told my story. This of course 
 spread at once among the Germans in Odessa, 
 and as a seventeen-year old boy, I found that I 
 had suddenly become a hero in the eyes of all 
 my Odessa friends. I have often wondered 
 what I should have done if the driver had con- 
 tinued on. Fortunately I was not pushed to the 
 extreme for a decision yea or nay. I might 
 have gone to a horrible extreme, for a boy 
 seventeen years old is not necessarily a Solomon. 
 56 
 
MEMOKIES OF A HAPPY BOYHOOD 
 
 Both times when we left Odessa my friends 
 fairly drowned me with presents of cake and 
 candy. I remember the last time on saying 
 farewell that the upper berth in our state- 
 room was simply piled full of boxes of cake 
 and candy. On reaching Constantinople, I 
 found no difficulty in disposing of these gifts 
 among my playmates and for a while I was 
 exceedingly popular. 
 
 Russia in 1862 and Later 
 
 Just now, in January, 1919, the Kussian 
 question is very much to the front. In Kussia, 
 as I write, anarchy reigns supreme. In say- 
 ing Russia, I mean exclusively Russia to the 
 west of the Ural range. What I say has no 
 reference to Siberian Russia. Xow the Russia 
 that I knew, and which is very much, so far 
 as the rural population is concerned, the Russia 
 of to-day, was in shocking shape. Drunken- 
 ness was everywhere most apparent. The 
 priesthood, while sexually much more moral 
 than the Roman Catholic priesthood, at least in 
 Spain, Austria or South America, were still 
 most illiterate and much given to drink. I 
 have seen a priest of the Greek church minister- 
 ing at the high altar at a communion service, 
 who had drunk so much wine that he had to 
 57 
 
MEMOEIES OF A HAPPY BOYHOOD 
 
 be helped back to the vestry hj two acolytes, 
 as lie was not able to walk straight. 
 
 On one of these trips back from Odessa to 
 Constantinople I sat next to a Russian Ortho- 
 dox priest who was bound for the Holy Land, 
 where he expected to visit every place where our 
 Master had been. He was a particularly holy 
 man in his own estimation and thought he was 
 on a particularly holy errand. Therefore he 
 made a cross over every article of food to which 
 he helped himself, and over every glass of 
 vodka which he drank at the table. I am tell- 
 ing the literal truth when I say that at each 
 meal, including breakfast, he became so drunk 
 that his crosses developed into indeterminate 
 circles. From every meal he arose intoxicated. 
 The proverb says, ^'Like priest, like people," 
 and this proverb is largely true. 
 
 On one of our trips through South Russia 
 we stopped at a rest house to get boiling water 
 for our tea. Outside of the rest house there 
 was a large caravan of wagons, taking wheat 
 into Odessa. The farmers were resting. I 
 went into the large waiting room and there 
 saw sitting around the table some twenty farm- 
 ers all with vodka in front of them, and all 
 drunk. While I was there one of them rose to 
 leave the room. He was so intoxicated that he 
 58 
 
MEMOEIES OF A HAPPY BOYHOOD 
 
 fell and was unable to get up. Every man at 
 the table was so drunk that no one dared to 
 rise and help him. How ever these men got 
 into Odessa with their wagons, I am sure I 
 don't know. In Odessa itself the conventional 
 sign over the drink shops was a rude painting 
 representing men sitting at a table drinking, 
 and two men helping a third, who was 
 thoroughly intoxicated, out of the room. 
 
 Years after this on an Atlantic liner, I made 
 a statement at the table that the Eussians were 
 a drunken lot, and an American lady, stood up 
 in their defense and claimed that I was malign- 
 ing them. There was at the same table a Count 
 Siesdorpf (I think that is the way the name is 
 spelled) who had been military attache for Prus- 
 sia in St. Petersburg. Turning to him I said. 
 Count, are the Russians heavy drinkers ?" To 
 this he made the following reply : 
 
 ''When I was military attache in St. Peters- 
 burg, I attended a court ball. At one time in 
 the evening, the young officers got so high over 
 their drink, that they uncorked champagne 
 bottles and emptied the contents into the key- 
 board of the piano. One of them then sat down 
 and played a rapid movement. Every key 
 that he struck resulted in a little geyser of 
 champagne squirting up. 
 
 59 
 
MEMOEIES OF A HAPPY BOYHOOD 
 
 ^'In the course of the evening one of the 
 court ladies said that she was very hot. On 
 that a lieutenant took a champagne bottle and 
 o'mashed out the panes of glass from one win- 
 dow. Then other military men amused them- 
 selves by taking the empty champagne bottles 
 and firing them out of the window at passers-by 
 on the sidewalk." 
 
 I said to the Count, "Was that good society 
 To this he replied, "There was none better in 
 St. Petersburg.'' He then continued: 
 
 "At one time I was invited to a military 
 dinner and we sat down to the table one hun- 
 dred military men. We got up from the table 
 seventeen. All the rest either had been dragged 
 out by their attendants, or were on the floor." 
 
 After this recital I looked at my American 
 lady friend and I found that her spirit had 
 left her, and she had not a word to say about 
 my being a false witness. 
 
 Elding and Rowing 
 
 At one time before I came to this country, 
 our Ambassador had a son who was a play- 
 mate of mine, and I used, frequently, to visit 
 at their house, both in winter in Pera, and in 
 summer at their palace in Therapia. The Am- 
 60 
 
MEMORIES OE A HAPPY BOYHOOD 
 
 bassador had a splendid white Arab horse, full 
 of spunk, most beautiful to behold, and splendid 
 to ride. His son had a pony. Together we 
 used to go out riding. 
 
 'Now this Arab horse had a trick of work- 
 ing round the curb bit until he got it in his 
 teeth. Then he would bolt and run, and until 
 the bit could be pulled from his teeth he was 
 entirely ungovernable. I remember one time 
 we were riding along a beach on the Bosporus. 
 Without my taking notice of it, he slowly got 
 the bit in his teeth and started. I was no 
 great horseman, but like many boys I could 
 hang on to a saddle like a monkey, which I 
 proceeded to do. Presently I noticed ahead a 
 rope stretched across the beach and fastened to 
 a tree on the land side. This was being used by 
 a lighter to warp her way nearer the beach. 
 The horse was running so wild that I thought 
 he would not notice the rope stretched taut 
 about three and a half feet from the ground 
 across the beach. I thought my end had come, 
 and that horse and I would go down in the 
 wild rush, and I shut my eyes. Suddenly I 
 felt the creature rise to take the leap, clear the 
 rope and land safely on the other side. Then 
 I knew that my days were not numbered. In 
 due time I managed to pull the bit out from 
 61 
 
MEMORIES OE A HAPPY BOYHOOD 
 
 between his teeth, and soon had him down to a 
 reasonably civilized gait. 
 
 Of course I learned how to row a caique on 
 the swift Bosporus, and many was the fine 
 afternoon I spent on that lovely stream of 
 water, enjoying myself to the height. I became 
 quite expert in managing these ticklish boats, 
 even in very swift currents that are a danger 
 to all careless boatmen, so that they presented 
 to me no terror at all. 
 
 The Beautiful Bosporus 
 
 Very much of the happiness of my boyhood 
 days, of course, arose from my environment. 
 Since those days I have seen a good deal of 
 the world and have had the happiness of enjoy- 
 ing some of its most beautiful scenery, as for 
 example that of the Swiss and the Italian 
 Lakes as weU as the lakes in the Austrian 
 Salzkammergut. At the sam.e time I am free 
 to say that nowhere in the world does tTiere 
 exist so charming a stream of water as that of 
 the Bosporus. From the Black Sea to the 
 Marmora, the Bosporus is eighteen miles long; 
 it runs pretty due Xorth and South. At the 
 same time it is characterized by promontories 
 sometimes on the Asiatic, sometimes on the 
 European side. These promontories are faced 
 62 
 
MEMOEIES OF A HAPPY BOYHOOD 
 
 in nearly every case by a corresponding bay on 
 the opposite shore. The result is that as one 
 steams from the Marmora to the Black Sea 
 there is a never ending change of view. On 
 either sides the hills rise to an average height 
 of 400 feet, though in one place, a hill on the 
 eastern side called the Giant's Mountain rises 
 to fully one thousand feet. At the bases of 
 these hills lies a long line of villages, and 
 nearly all the choicest spots by the water side 
 are occupied by residents of the more well-to- 
 do classes. On the European side there are to 
 be seen the substantial structures of the Con- 
 stantinople College for girls and the Robert 
 College for boys. Further north at Therapia 
 and Bouyukdere are most of the summer palaces 
 of the foreign legations. The hill sides are 
 beautifully clothed with sycamore, cypress and 
 other trees, while ever and anon the Judas tree 
 blazes forth in May with its bright pink blos- 
 soms, and fairly startles one's vision by the 
 contrast it makes with the solemn cypress trees. 
 During peace times steamers of all nations can 
 be seen plying up and down the Bosporus on 
 their way to the various Black Sea ports, or re- 
 turning from those ports laden with cargoes 
 of grain. A busier stream of water than the 
 Bosporus can hardly be seen ajiywhere. At the 
 63 
 
MEMORIES OF A HAPPY BOYHOOD 
 
 same time one can see there sailing boats with 
 the old Argonantic rig, of more than two thou- 
 sand years ago, so that East and West meet here 
 again in startling contrast. 
 
 Over these hills I used to range as a boy 
 with my dog Tray and enjoy the bewitching 
 views !N'orth, South, East and West. On one 
 of these hills near our home, we boys at one 
 time proceeded to dig caves a la Robinson 
 Crusoe, one for ourselves and one for the girls. 
 Here on Saturday we would spend a large part 
 of the day building bonfires in which we roasted 
 our potatoes, and having a fijie spread inside of 
 the caves, which we illuminated with candles. 
 These caves lasted us for a whole season and 
 were highly prized by us being the result of 
 strenuous toil. Alas ! one fall after very heavy 
 and long continued rains, the caves slumped in 
 burying all the simple furniture that we had 
 for our comfort. After due counsel we boys 
 made up our minds that to dig other caves 
 would simply result in a similar disaster. We, 
 therefore, made up our minds that we would 
 have a bush cave. Selecting a very large and 
 thickly growing bush we cut out all the inside 
 gro^vth, leaving only the outer branches to 
 serve as walls for our cave. This suited our 
 purpose of Saturday picnics very well. The 
 64 
 
MEMOEIES OF A HAPPY BOYHOOD 
 
 last time I was in Constantinople in 1914 that 
 same bush cave was still there, though fifty 
 years had elapsed since any of us had enjoyed 
 ourselves within its shelter. 
 
 Of course the Bosporus is not always ravish- 
 ingiy beautiful, indeed in winter it is cold and 
 bleak. But in April and May, before the sum- 
 mer drought starts in, it is not an exaggeration 
 to say that the Bosporus is a kind of Paradise. 
 I had often spoken to my better half about its 
 beauties and could not help realizing that she 
 thought I was exaggerating. In 1894 when she 
 visited Constantinople for the first time, I hired 
 a two-oared Caique and we rowed up from 
 Stamboul to Hissar, six miles. After the 
 beauty of the scene began to impress itself on 
 her, she turned to me and said, *'Why did you 
 never tell me how beautiful the Bosporus is?'' 
 
 ISTeedless to say a large part of our joy con- 
 sisted in bathing in summer time. We boys 
 very easily learned how to swim, and during 
 the season to miss our afternoon's swim was 
 really to make that day count for nothing. I 
 nearly came to a premature end one time, owing 
 to my inexperience, in an effort at deep diving. 
 I thought that I would like to see how far down 
 I could go, and I failed to calculate that it 
 would take some time to reach the surface 
 65 
 
MEMOKIES OF A HAPPY BOYHOOD 
 
 again. The result was that I held my down- 
 ward course until my breath nearly gave out. 
 Then I started for the suromit and I fully 
 believe that fifteen seconds more of dire dis- 
 tress for breath would have resulted in my in- 
 haling lungs full of water, which probably 
 would have been the end of my earthly career. 
 I was at first somewhat timid about jumping 
 into the deep water as my older brothers did. 
 At the same time I was ashamed to wade in 
 lest I should be laughed at. The result was 
 that I adopted a compromise and standing on 
 the edge of the pier invited one of the boys to 
 push me off. In this way I seemed to "save 
 my face" as thS Chinese say. Later on I was 
 able to jump and dive with the best of them. 
 
 Of course rowing in the caiques was a con- 
 stant source of enjoyment and Alfred and I 
 learned to handle those ticklish boats just as 
 well as professional rowers, so that our constant 
 going out on the Bosporus in spite of its swift 
 currents, caused our parents no anxiety as they 
 knew perfectly well that we were quite com- 
 petent to handle the boats safely. I have no 
 doubt but that this exercise contributed largely 
 toward our physical well-being and that this 
 stood us in good stead in our later years. 
 
 One of our great joys was the annual picnic 
 66 
 
MEMOEIES OF A HAPPY BOYHOOD 
 
 on the 4th of July when the missionary band at 
 Constantinople chartered a steamer and spent 
 the day most happily in some secluded grove on 
 the banks of the Bosporus, ^^ever did I pray 
 more earnestly in those early days than I did 
 that it might not rain on the Fourth of July 
 and when once in a while it did rain it seemed 
 to us boys as though the joy of life had departed. 
 
 The Boy Turns Poet 
 
 One summer as I chanced to stroll 
 Along the charming Bosporus 
 I spied a castle rising high o'er the surround- 
 ing land. 
 On the hill side it stood, 
 
 And while it bathed its feet in waters from 
 
 the Euxine, 
 It reared its castellated head in pride aloft 
 And seemed indeed a kindly guardian 
 For the small hamlet nestling in its bosom. 
 'Tis said by those of olden time 
 That e'er Mahmoud wrested Byzantium from 
 
 the Greek, 
 
 Having obtained liberty to raise a store house 
 
 on that spot, 
 Took license, and in lieu 
 Raised up those lofty walls and towers 
 67 
 
MEMOEIES OF A HAPPY BOYHOOD 
 
 Which stood for ages a terror to the Greek and 
 Muscovite. 
 
 l^ot far from here the Moslem hosts were 
 
 marshaled, 
 And in obedience to their leaders call 
 Laid siege to the doomed city, 
 The fair Byzantium, 
 
 Which with its convents, palaces and domes, 
 Its cypress groves and hippodromes. 
 Remains the sole survivor of those mighty 
 kings 
 
 Whose sway extended from Britannia to the 
 
 Scythian plains. 
 Three massive towers stand, larger than the 
 
 rest. 
 
 And one of these is called Oblivion, 
 For though full many a captive Greek entered 
 its walls 
 
 None ever issued thence to mingle with the busy 
 world. 
 
 One chamber yet remains intact, 
 
 And here the curious traveler may see a block 
 
 And rusted axe-head 
 
 And walls besmeared with gore. 
 
 All that is left to mark the fate of Athena's 
 
 brave sons. 
 All else is ruin and decay, 
 While, in the basement, 
 68 
 
MEMOKIES OF A HAPPY BOYHOOD 
 
 Unmindful of the tortures which man inflicted 
 
 on his fellow man in days gone by 
 A miller stores his corn and flour, 
 And, from his store, he daily draws 
 Wherewith to satisfy the multitudes which 
 
 throng around his door. 
 Hard by this tower, half covered up by mother 
 earth 
 
 To shelter it from the blasts which rudely swoop 
 
 down from the Pontus, 
 A porphyry column shows its colored side 
 And still retains that polish 
 Which served to adorn some heathen temple, 
 And thence was torn by Tartar bands 
 With more than vandal savagery. 
 A heavy gate still stands 
 I^ear where the tower presents its stony side 
 In sheer defiance of all the furious north wind 
 
 can effect. 
 One of the folding doors 
 Thick plated and well riveted, lies prostrate. 
 While its haughty mate with sturdier mien 
 Upright still stands, and, keeps a sleepless 
 
 watch 
 
 Over the spot where years ago 
 The Moslem and the Greek mingled in deadly 
 strife. 
 
 69 
 
MEMORIES OF A HAPPY BOYHOOD 
 
 Over the gate a watch house stood 
 
 From which the guard with ringing voice 
 
 Heralded the near approach of foe or friend. 
 
 But watch-man and watch-tower have long 
 since numbered been with things that were. 
 
 Supporting the ''Oblivion'' to right and left, 
 
 But standing higher on the hill 
 
 Which rises to the abode of Sheiks, 
 
 Are two more towers half hidden by the cluster- 
 ing ivy 
 
 Which shields the battered walls from vulgar 
 eyes. 
 
 A winding staircase, 
 
 Crumbling now and over-grown with weeds. 
 Leads to the summit of the highest tower. 
 While in the wall loop holes are seen, 
 Through which the faithful sped unerring 
 
 arrows — 
 Swift messengers of death — 
 Summoning full many a son of Hellas 
 To that dread bar from whose decision no 
 
 appeal exists. 
 Something within me bade me climb the dizzy 
 
 height, 
 
 In spite of crumbling staircase, or of slippery 
 weeds. 
 
 For unto him who perseveres, 
 And persevering gains the summit, 
 70 
 
MEMORIES OF A HAPPY BOYHOOD 
 
 A view presents itself so beautiful, majestic, 
 grand, 
 
 That he would fain believe himself transported 
 
 To that fair paradise 
 
 From which our parents were expelled 
 
 When erst defiled bj sin. 
 
 Beneath its feet nestles a comely village, 
 
 And in the market place some children play at 
 
 hide and seek. 
 While ever and anon their boisterous laughter. 
 As some young comrade, long baffling the hot 
 
 pursuit of all his fellows, 
 At last is found. 
 Comes borne on wings aloft 
 And sounds like distant tinkling of sleigh bells. 
 The old men sit in silence 
 Around some story teller 
 
 And list with wonder to his anecdotes replete 
 
 with deeds of heroes bold, 
 And warriors famed in strife with Athena's 
 
 fierce sons. 
 Close to the village rolls the Bosporus 
 In solemn grandeur sweeping on past palaces 
 
 and mosques. 
 And bearing on its bosom the wealth of nations. 
 The sloping shores are dotted here and there 
 With hamlets, peeping forth 
 Amidst the giant sycamores, 
 71 
 
MEMORIES OF A HAPPY BOYHOOD 
 
 Which spread their Titan arms abroad 
 And shelter all beneath them from the noon- 
 tide sun. 
 
 Full five miles off Byzantium lies. 
 
 Among its minarets and domes, Sophia stands 
 
 pre-eminent. 
 But the altar, where the priests of God 
 Their orisons once paid, 
 Is now defiled by Moslem hands, 
 ^\llile five times daily from its minarets 
 Goes forth the cry 
 Our God is great He is the God 
 And Mohammed his faithful prophet. 
 In the dim distance rises white Olympus, 
 Clearly outlined against the horizon. 
 Which with its snow-capped peaks 
 Seems to keep watch over the doomed city. 
 Still waiting for the time when Suliote bands 
 Shall once again with eager foot 
 Press the dear soil stained by their father's 
 
 blood. 
 
 But now the twilight hour has passed 
 
 And the pale moon, the queen of tides, 
 
 Rises above the clouds. 
 
 The children cease their play 
 
 The aged men betake themselves to prayer 
 
 And silence holds her pensive sway 
 
 Over the Moslem capital. 
 
 72 
 
MEMOEIES OF A HAPPY BOYHOOD 
 
 Turkish Dogs 
 
 For centuries Constantinople lias been noted 
 for its street dogs. When I was a boy there 
 were many thousands of them, not only in the 
 city itself, but in every village along the Bos- 
 porus. These dogs picked up their own food 
 as best they could, with the result that often 
 times they were hard pushed to keep themselves 
 alive and in reasonable condition. All visitors 
 to Constantinople used to complain that these 
 dogs made night hideous, and their complaint 
 was well founded. 
 
 As a matter of fact these dogs had a kind of 
 self-government and they portioned out districts 
 for themselves in the city, each district having 
 a definite number of dogs. The district 
 boundaries were well marked. As a result in- 
 dividual dogs did not stray over the whole city, 
 but kept themselves rigidly to their own dis- 
 trict. If by chance a dog got out of his dis- 
 trict in search of food, he would at once be 
 attacked by the dogs of that district. Starting 
 for his own district the dog would raise a cry. 
 His own district dogs would rally at once on the 
 line between their own district and the one in- 
 vaded by their friend. If their friend got over 
 the line safely, they were satisfied, but if the 
 73 
 
MEMOKIES OF A HAPPY BOYHOOD 
 
 p-iu'suing dogs from the neighboring district 
 ventured over the line to attack their fleeing 
 enemy, his friends at once put up a fierce fight 
 in his defense. 
 
 Occasionally it would happen that a dog be- 
 came disgusted with his own crowd and vol- 
 untarily emigrated into another district. The 
 dogs of that district would at once fall upon 
 him. Instead of fleeing he would lie down and 
 endure whatever punishment they administered. 
 When in their judgment justice had been satis- 
 fied they would cease their punishment. He 
 then became a member of that district and could 
 no longer go back to his old quarters. Having 
 changed his citizenship his new comrades would 
 fight for him just as truly as though he had been 
 born in their flock. These rules were rigidly 
 carried out by all the hundreds of dog districts 
 in Constantinople. 
 
 Of course when I went out with my dog Tray 
 there was trouble as I went through one district 
 after another. In each district the dogs would 
 rally to attack, though they never followed my 
 dog into the next district, leaving my dog in 
 that district to its local citizens. I used to take 
 with me a long Australian stock-whip to defend 
 my dog against these continual assaults and 
 almost without exception, between myself and 
 74 
 
MEMORIES OF A HAPPY BOYHOOD 
 
 himself, we were able to get through without 
 auY serious damage. 
 
 The voung Turkey party, however, got rid of 
 the dogs in Constantinople so that when we 
 were there last in 1914: there was only a dog 
 to be seen here and there which made the streets 
 seem to me quite lonesome. 
 
 Off For Colle^ 
 
 At last the time came for me to leave my 
 home and come to this coimtry to enter 
 Williams College. I left in the summer of 
 1S63, this being the first time that I had ever 
 left home alone. My first stage was from Con- 
 stantinople to Marseilles via the Piraeus. Here 
 I took the opportimity of running up to 
 Athens. Just at that time Athens was in a 
 timiult of revolutionary excitement. The 
 Acropolis was dotted here and there with revo- 
 lutionists with long muskets in their hands. 
 
 As we had to drive up from the Piraeus to 
 Athens, an Armenian, a fellow passenger, took 
 a carriage with me. On the way up he showed 
 me a wonderful emerald about the size of an 
 English walnut, and told me that he was going 
 to London to sell it. Singularly enough this 
 filled me with a kind of vague apprehension 
 lest some of these lawless men should in some 
 75 
 
MEMORIES OF A HAPPY BOYHOOD 
 
 way know that my companion had so priceless 
 a jewel, and should lie in wait for ns, and 
 together we should meet our fate. My relief 
 was very great when we got through our visit 
 and were back on the steamer safe and sound. 
 The journey on to Marseilles was without 
 incident. 
 
 On boarding the train at Marseilles, there 
 was no one in the compartment with me, but 
 a young Greek and his bride. K'ot thinking 
 at all that I understood Greek, they began to 
 talk together, and very soon I realized that the 
 conversation was such as they would not in- 
 dulge in, if they knew that their fellow pas- 
 senger understood what they said. It seemed 
 only fair that I should let them know that I 
 knew Greek. So turning to the young man I 
 asked him, ^'Will you please tell me what time 
 we are due at Lyons ?'' With a look of great 
 astonishment, he exclaimed, ^'By the Holy 
 Virgin, do you talk Greek After that their 
 conversation was headed in a very different 
 direction. 
 
 Apropos of this traveling in those early 
 days in locked-in compartments, all alone with 
 strangers, I may add another experience. 
 Traveling once in France all night, there was 
 only one fellow traveler in my compartment. 
 76 
 
MEMOKIES OF A HAPPY BOYHOOD 
 
 There had been some unfortunate cases of vio- 
 lence in locked-in compartments about the time 
 in that country. 
 
 I began studying my fellow traveler, espe- 
 cially about the hour when it was time to wrap 
 up for the night. I could make very little of 
 him, and I had not said one word to him so 
 far. About ten o'clock he opened his little 
 valise and took out a little well worn New 
 Testament, in which he read a passage. As 
 this was evidently the key to the man's moral 
 standing, my fears were at once quieted and 
 wrapping myself up I slept well. In the morn- 
 ing I got into conversation wdth him and found 
 that he was an English general (out of uni- 
 form) coming back from India on a furlough. 
 I found him a most interesting man and a 
 thorough-going Christian as well. 
 
 At Marseilles I boarded my first railroad 
 train and started on the twenty-seven hour trip 
 to Paris. Of course there were no sleepers in 
 those days, and we sat up the whole way. 
 ^Now I had heard that express trains some- 
 times made fifty miles an hour. 'Not knowing 
 how to judge the speed of a railroad train, it 
 took me about an hour to make up my mind 
 that we had reached our full speed. !N"o one 
 had ever told me, however, that trains pass 
 17 
 
MEMOEIES OF A HAPPY BOYHOOD 
 
 each other on different tracks, and the very 
 first train that we met rushing past us, raised 
 every bit of goose-flesh on my body, for I was 
 sure we had had an awful collision. 
 
 When we got to Paris I went to a small 
 hotel, and took a room for five francs a day, 
 up three flights of stairs. When the porter 
 had set do^vn my little trunk and my 'cello 
 case, and had gone out and closed the door, I 
 was suddenly overwhelmed with an awful fit 
 of homesickness. This was the first time I 
 had been able really to stop, since I had left 
 home, and realize my loneliness. It seemed to 
 me as if I should die on the spot. In a kind 
 of despair I took out my 'cello and began to 
 play for dear life. In this way I played myself 
 back to a rational frame of mind, and then 
 taking my hat I started out to see the wonders 
 of the French capital. 
 
 The only other time that I have been so 
 bitterly homesick was the first Sunday in col- 
 lege, when in the afternoon I was again over- 
 whelmed with this terrible longing for my 
 home and parents. It seemed again as if I 
 might die on the spot, for the literal heart- 
 ache was bitter. What I then did was to seize 
 my hat and start down the road toward IS^orth 
 Adams on the jog trot. This pace I kept up 
 78 
 
MEMOKIES OF A HAPPY BOYHOOD 
 
 for over a mile and then my homesickness 
 passed away and I walked back to East College 
 in peace of mind. From that day to this I have 
 never had another such attack. 
 
 From Paris I went to Calais, and there, for 
 the sake of economy, took a steamer for Lon- 
 don, via the Thames. In this way I saw the 
 whole of the Thames between its mouth and the 
 city. In those days all the sewage of London 
 poured into that little river, and the odor on a 
 hot day was something better imagined than 
 described. 
 
 In London 
 
 My parents had only given me the address of 
 one boarding house in London, where I was 
 to put up for the week that I intended to 
 spend there. Taking a cab at the steamer dock, 
 I gave the driver the address, and we started. 
 The cabby was one of the typical London cab- 
 bies of that day. When we arrived at the 
 boarding house, I found that it had closed. My 
 parents had not given me another address in 
 London, and I did not know the name of a 
 single hotel. I asked the cabby if he could 
 drive me in to a hotel, to which he replied that 
 he did not know of any. Even in my lack 
 of experience I thought this reply rather singu- 
 79 
 
MEMOKIES OF A HAPPY BOYHOOD 
 
 lar. In a moment or two he said, ^^Yes, I 
 do remember a hotel/' and I directed him to 
 drive me to it. 
 
 He then drove me back to Fleet Street and 
 we stopped at a little twenty-foot front build- 
 ing by the name of "Paine's Hotel." The cabby 
 rang the bell and I entered, engaged a room, 
 and had my traps taken up to it. On entering 
 my room I noticed at once that there was no 
 lock on the door, and this rather aroused my 
 suspicions. I therefore made up my mind that 
 I would look for another hotel. On leaving my 
 room and going to the landing leading down 
 stairs, I met a woman leaning over the rail- 
 ing with mighty few clothes on. She was 
 haranguing the cabman somewhat as follows: 
 ^'What did you bring that kind of a fellow here 
 for ? We don't want men of that kind." This 
 at once confirmed my suspicions that I was in 
 a bad house. I went out and found a respect- 
 able looking hotel on the same street called the 
 ^'Portugal Hotel." Going in I engaged a room 
 and then returned to ^^Paine's Hotel" for my 
 goods. Again I found the door locked. On 
 entering I stood in the doorway by way of 
 caution and said to the porter, ^^Bring down 
 my baggage, I am going to change my hotel." 
 This he refused to do, although I offered him 
 80 
 
MEMOEIES OF A HAPPY BOYHOOD 
 
 pay for one day. As I stood in the doorway 
 he was unable to shut the door on me, and after 
 some argument reluctantly brought my prop- 
 erty down and I had it taken to the other and 
 more respectable hotel. 
 
 After this I started down Fleet Street, going 
 as far as Trafalgar Square, of course passing 
 Temple Bar which then was still standing. At 
 Trafalgar Square I saw a crowd just at the 
 comer where Morley's Hotel stands. Curiosity 
 led me to push into the crowd, and I saw that 
 the center of attraction consisted of two Eng- 
 lish women, roaring drunk, engaged in a bitter 
 fist fight. I was horror stricken to see two 
 English women in such a situation. 'No one 
 interfered, and no policemen came to stop the 
 disgraceful scene. Presently one of the 
 women s^\Ting out her arm and gave the other 
 one a terrible blow just over the jugular vein. 
 This felled her like an ox, and she crashed 
 to the ground unconscious. Still no one inter- 
 fered. Such a sight as that certainly could 
 not have been seen at that time in any Mo- 
 hammedan city, and was a horrible comment 
 on the type of Anglo-Saxon civilization that 
 those women and that crowd displayed. 
 
 81 
 
MEMORIES OF A HAPPY BOYHOOD 
 
 On the "Great Eastern" 
 
 After seeing London I ran by train to Liver- 
 pool. I had seen an advertisement of the Great 
 Eastern and had bought a ticket, second class, 
 on that monster for Xew York. How great a 
 monster she was in those days may be realized 
 from the fact that there were very few steamers 
 (if any) sailing between Liverpool and Xew 
 York of over five thousand tons burden, whereas 
 the Great Eastern measured twenty-six thou- 
 sand tons. She was a combined side-wheeler 
 and screw. She carried about a thousand pas- 
 sengers, but on this trip her cargo was so small 
 compared with her capacity^, that she rode too 
 high out of the water. 
 
 Soon after leaving Queenstown a notice was 
 given out there would be a display by a pro- 
 fessional bicyclist on the deck. I had never 
 even heard of a bicycle and so of course was 
 present to see the show. The deck of the Great 
 Eastern was flush from end to end, and gave a 
 smooth course both ways of about twelve hun- 
 dred feet. When the performer came out, he 
 mounted what we now call an ^'ordinary" (i.e., 
 a high wheel) and started along the deck. I 
 was filled with amazement at his performance, 
 82 
 
MEMORIES OF A HAPPY BOYHOOD 
 
 and wondered how under the sun he could keep 
 his balance on two wheels. This amazement 
 was increased when, as he crossed the deck from 
 one side to the other while the ship was roll- 
 ing, he met with no accident but swung around 
 with a masterful dexterity and started along the 
 length of the ship again. 
 
 When we were off the banks, we were over- 
 taken by a regular August hurricane. I was 
 downstairs washing for dinner, and was con- 
 scious that the ship was rolling very heavily. 
 Upstairs the whole company were at the table. 
 Suddenly the steamer gave a tremendous lurch, 
 and I heard a terrific crash of all kinds of 
 crockery in the dining room and screams of the 
 frightened passengers. On that I hastily went 
 upstairs and found that there had been no racks 
 on the tables and that that lurch had cleared 
 the tables of every movable thing, and had 
 thrown the passengers left and right, injuring 
 some of them seriously. This ended the dinner 
 for that evening, and then began the horrors 
 of such a night as I have never passed. Owing 
 to her great length and her lack of horse power 
 (the paddle wheel engines had only a thousand 
 horse power and the screw fifteen hundred) 
 when she got into the trough of the sea, the 
 Captain could not get her out, so there we lay 
 83 
 
MEMOEIES OF A HAPPY BOYHOOD 
 
 thrashing back and forth, the waves breaking 
 over the steamer with titanic violence, l^o one 
 was allowed on deck as it was absolutely unsafe. 
 We thrashed in this way until about two o'clock 
 in the morning. I heard a boiler burst and 
 heard the pumps start, showing that we had 
 sprung a leak. 
 
 Of course there was no sleep, and the pas- 
 sengers were gathered in the great saloon, hold- 
 ing on to any piece of stationary furniture for 
 dear life. About two o'clock the captain came 
 down somewhat intoxicated and said, ^^Ladies 
 and gentlemen, there is no hope. We are all 
 going to the bottom.'' ^s'aturally this was not 
 calculated to soothe the anxieties of the fright- 
 ened passengers, and some of the ladies went 
 into hysterics. 
 
 My elbow neighbor at the table, the prof anest 
 and most filthy mouthed man that I had ever, 
 or have ever, met, was present when the captain 
 made his announcement. He was filled with 
 fear. Promptly he knelt down by one of the 
 tables and holding on for dear life he said, 
 "It's time to pray." With that he poured out 
 a prayer to Almighty God, which consisted 
 chiefly of a solemn promise that if God would 
 get him out of this storm alive and on shore 
 again in safety, he would never take his name 
 84 
 
MEMOEIES OF A HAPPY BOYHOOD 
 
 in vain again. During the rest of the voyage 
 at least he kept this promise. 
 
 "We were four days in from the hanks owing 
 to our being so crippled by the storm. The 
 morning after the storm abated for example, I 
 saw them fussing at one of the paddle boxes, 
 the door of which opening on to the deck gave 
 a good view of paddles. I looked in, and out 
 of the forty-four floats which ought to have been 
 in position, there were only eleven left. The 
 others had been smashed to kindling wood. Of 
 the eighteen life boats I saw only four were 
 left. Fourteen of them had been swept over- 
 board by the mountainous waves. 
 
 In the course of that same day a gentleman 
 said to me, ''Have you been down in the hold V' 
 To this I replied, "Xo, I have nothing in the 
 hold. All my baggage is in my stateroom.^' 
 ''Go down to the hold," he said, "you never saw 
 such a sight in your life." So I wended my 
 way to said hold. This was about seventy feet 
 broad and about a hundred feet long. There, 
 in one wild mass of wreck, lay the baggage 
 which, during the night, had got loose and been 
 thrown from side to side. Xo man had dared 
 go down to straighten things out. The result 
 was that, with the exception of sole leather 
 trunks, there was not a piece of a trunk left as 
 85 
 
MEMORIES OF A HAPPY BOYHOOD 
 
 large as mj two hands. I saw ladies stepping 
 around in all this terrible debris, picking out 
 here and there a garment which they recognized 
 as belonging to them. Later on I saw a lady in 
 the first class saloon with a pile of silk dresses 
 three or four feet high which she had rescued, 
 which however were no longer dresses but mere 
 ribbons. 
 
 We had on board two race horses, badly 
 stalled. They got loose in the night and one 
 of them was killed on the spot and the second 
 was so broken up by the violence of his han- 
 dling that they had to shoot him. These poor 
 creatures were then hauled up and thrown 
 overboard. 
 
 When we left Liverpool the last news from 
 ^^ew York was that the draft rioters had con- 
 trol of the city and that Xew York was in 
 flames. We were two weeks coming to l^ew 
 York, and as those were not days of wireless, 
 we were ignorant as to what had taken place 
 in the city since we left Liverpool. We did not 
 know but what we should find Isew York a mass 
 of ruins. Great was our relief therefore when 
 we found that matters had quieted down, and 
 that General B. F. Butler had his headquarters 
 at the old Metropolitan Hotel on Broadway. 
 
 Owing to the vast size of the Great Eastern 
 86 
 
MEMOKIES OF A HAPPY BOYHOOD 
 
 we could not come up over the bar, but had to 
 come up Long Island Sound and anchor at 
 Flushing. From there we were transported to 
 the city in tugs. Thus began my first experi- 
 ence in the United States. 
 
 In College 
 
 While Alf was in college with me, from '63 
 to '65, of course he was the musical leader of 
 the College Glee Club. After he left I assumed 
 that position, so that for six years all the musi- 
 cal culture in the college was practically headed 
 by us two. 
 
 When I got to college, I found things from 
 a religious standpoint, in shocking condition. 
 While there were earnest Christian men in every 
 class, there were also many in whose case re- 
 ligion was far from their thoughts. At the 
 table where I boarded profane language and 
 obscene talk was the regular order of the day. 
 I was a clean-minded boy and was perfectly 
 shocked at the kind of stories to which I was 
 obliged to listen. As I was only a Freshman, 
 and as the men in that club were Juniors or 
 Seniors, I felt myself powerless to make any 
 protest, for I was there at that eating club 
 merely because my brother Alfred, a Junior, 
 was a member. 
 
 87 
 
MEMORIES OF A HAPPY BOYHOOD 
 
 That winter, however, a Rev. Mr. Kempshall 
 from Elizabeth, IN'ew Jersey, came up to con- 
 duct a series of revival services. He was truly 
 God's messenger to Williams College that 
 winter. He preached with great power, and 
 the result was that a revival of religion, pure 
 and undefiled, started very soon. Daily meet- 
 ings were held for the whole college, beside 
 class prayer meetings. The college was shaken 
 as by the power of the Holy Spirit. There were 
 many conversions, and much calling back of 
 those who had fallen away in their religious life. 
 I had never passed through a revival, and so was 
 deeply moved. In my own class the Christian 
 men gathered themselves together, and appor- 
 tioned the unconverted men to the care of men 
 who were Christians, in order that they might 
 be personally visited in their rooms. All this 
 was to me a delightfid, though an entirely new, 
 form of activity. 
 
 Suffice it to say that as a result of this re- 
 vival, the constant profanity and the filthy 
 stories were driven into darkness where they 
 belonged, and after that if any man in any 
 gathering began to tell some dirty story, he 
 was at once sat on, and made to understand that 
 that was all off color. 
 
 It is impossible for me to tell how I enjoyed 
 88 
 
MEMOEIES OF A HAPPY BOYHOOD 
 
 my college experience. In Constantinople, 
 owing to the fact that nearly all the missionary 
 boys had preceded me to college, I had for 
 two years lived a kind of lonely life, with no 
 boy associates. To be transplanted from this 
 solitary existence into the midst of a town 
 filled with young fellows about my own age, 
 was a wonderful experience. Probably no one 
 enjoyed this freedom of association with others, 
 like minded, more than I did. 
 
 In my college life I was exceedingly well 
 physically, excepting the first winter when I 
 had an attack of measles. This put me into 
 bed for forty-eight hours. During my long life 
 I have never, excepting at that time, been con- 
 fined to bed for twenty-four consecutive hours, 
 a fact which ought to cause, and does cause, 
 very great gratitude on my part. Once more, 
 in college I had a severe attack of dysentery, 
 which came on just at the time that my class 
 was going through its biennial examinations. 
 This made it very hard for me, but with the 
 buoyancy of youth, I pulled through and was 
 enabled to make a decent record. 
 
 While talking about examinations, the ability 
 to write some doggerel stood me once in good 
 stead. In our Sophomore year our class was 
 divided in its mathematical study into two divi- 
 89 
 
MEMOEIES OF A HAPPY BOYHOOD 
 
 sions, according to the ability of the men. I 
 was put into the first division. ISTow my 
 mathematical preparation for college had been 
 very weak, though my linguistic preparation 
 had been unusually good. I told the professor 
 that I could not go as fast as the first division 
 was supposed to go, and asked him to trans- 
 fer me to the second division. This he de- 
 clined to do. 
 
 The first division then took up trigonometry, 
 which we called ^^trig" for short. When we 
 came to our examinations, it was customary for 
 each student to step up to the professor's desk 
 and by lot to draw a problem. If he could not 
 work it out, he was allowed to draw again. I 
 drew my problem and very soon saw that to 
 solve it was beyond me. I then stepped up 
 and drew again, and drew the same problem. 
 This I called to the professor's attention, but 
 his simple reply was, "I cannot help you." I 
 worked the problem out as far as I could and 
 then stopped. Underneath the unfinished work 
 I inscribed the following: 
 
 "This formula is far too long. 
 For fear I should do something wrong 
 I guess I'll not attempt the rest, 
 Which would be fizzling at the best. 
 
 90 
 
MEMOEIES OF A HAPPY BOYHOOD 
 
 Of all the studies I do know 
 In "trig" I make the poorest show; 
 In the other division I'll do better, 
 Or else I'll take my walking letter." 
 
 I then folded up my paper, passed it in, and 
 started for the door. By good luck, the pro- 
 fessor opened my paper instantly, and seeing 
 what I had written, called me back. "Did you 
 write this ?" "Yes, sir.'' "Do you want to go 
 in the second division ?" "Yes, sir." "Go along." 
 So my doggerel achieved for me a most com- 
 fortable result. 
 
 During all of my college term, my vacation 
 home was with Mr. and Mrs. Charles Merriam 
 in Springfield, Massachusetts. Never can I 
 repay the debt of gratitude that I owe them for 
 their priceless hospitality, and their unbounded 
 patience with a rather headstrong college boy. 
 The lovely times I had in their home with their 
 daughters can never be adequately described, 
 and to a boy who had no home on this side of 
 the ocean, their home was a joy and a boundless 
 blessing. 
 
 Trip Through Europe 
 
 In this connection I might add the following 
 In the summer of 1868, I met Mr. and Mrs. 
 Merriam and their daughter Lilly, with a friend 
 91 
 
MEMOEIES OF A HAPPY BOYHOOD 
 
 of theirs in Paris. They had just arrived, and 
 were to begin their tour through Europe, start- 
 ing from that French city. They had thought 
 that their daughter Lilly's knowledge of French 
 would be enough to see them through. When, 
 however, she came to try to use what French 
 she had, and to understand the rapid utterance 
 of French people, she found herself stranded. 
 On that Mr. Merriam came to me and said, 
 ^'Fred, we feel ourselves very ill at ease. We 
 shall need a courier to get through Europe, and 
 that will cost money, and he will probably cheat 
 us. You can get along well in French, German 
 and Italian, l^ow if you will come with us 
 for four months, I will pay all your expenses, 
 and it will be a great blessing to us to have you 
 to lean upon instead of some money-making 
 courier." I asked for twenty-four hours to 
 think it over, and then I decided to accept his 
 splendid offer, for it would give me a chance to 
 see Europe, such as I never had hoped for. 
 
 When we started, I found traveling with that 
 party a very different thing from traveling alone 
 on my o\vn limited resources, when I had to 
 think of every franc twice before I spent it. 
 Several times during these four months Mr. 
 Merriam, who was a very shy man, came into 
 my room and rattled down twenty ISTapoleons 
 92 
 
MEMOKIES OF A HAPPY BOYHOOD 
 
 in gold, simply saying, ^'You have been a great 
 help to us and you need some money for private 
 expenses." And almost before I could say 
 ^ Thank you" he fled out of the room. 
 
 Three Great Teachers 
 
 During my educational years I had the in- 
 estimable privilege of being directly under the 
 teaching and influence of Mark Hopkins, at 
 that time President of Williams College. The 
 chief thing that he taught us was how rightly 
 to use our intellectual tools. In this line of 
 instruction he was a master hand. Later on 
 in Andover Theological Seminary, where at 
 that time there were nine valedictorians, the 
 Yale men said to us Williams College men, 
 "The men we most fear in the debating society 
 here are you fellows from Williams. We can't 
 match you in debate, for we have never had the 
 training that you enjoyed under President 
 Hopkins." 
 
 In Andover I had the privilege of being 
 under Professor E. A. Park, and Professor 
 Austin Phelps, the first in Systematic Theology 
 and the second in Homiletics. Each of these 
 men was a master in his own line. 
 
 From these three men, then, President Hop- 
 kins, and Professors Park and Phelps, I got 
 93 
 
MEMOKIES OF A HAPPY BOYHOOD 
 
 more that was of value to me in life, than from 
 all mv other professors put together. My life 
 in Andover was exceedingly happy, though also 
 very busy. 
 
 One time in Andover at our boarding house, 
 I incidentally said, ^^I have half a mind to 
 begin Gibbon's ^Decline and Fall of the Koman 
 Empire.' " At that one of my classmates burst 
 out laughing and said, ''Yes, that's a fine thing 
 to do for a man studying as hard as you are.'' 
 My reply to him was that I would read the 
 whole six volumes in six weeks, and omit noth- 
 ing that I was doing then. To this he replied, 
 ''If you do that I will give you the best oyster 
 supper you ever had." My reply was "Ac- 
 cepted." I then got to work. 
 
 Instead of spending my time in gossip after 
 meals, I went straight at my book. If I went 
 to Boston, Gibbon went with me. To make a 
 long story short, in the six weeks, I had com- 
 pleted the six volumes together with pencil 
 annotations on the whole. Xeedless to say dur- 
 ing these weeks I wasted no precious ten 
 minutes, and also needless to say, I had the 
 best oyster supper that I had ever enjoyed up 
 till that time. 
 
 I took no vacation in Andover but stayed by 
 the stuff, and kept on with my studies, while 
 94 
 
MEMORIES OF A HAPPY BOYHOOD 
 
 other fellows were away resting, and the result 
 was that I was rather worn out when I got 
 through. I had intended to go straight down 
 to Xew York to engage in City Mission work, 
 but the doctor said that I ought to take a year 
 in some quiet country parish to recover my 
 vigor. 
 
 Just at that time the Congregational Church 
 in Brookfield, Massachusetts, was in need of a 
 supply for a year. I went up there as candi- 
 date. Xow I had always made up my mind 
 that I would be an extempore preacher, for I 
 realized that though written sermons were more 
 polished, extempore sermons, if properly pre- 
 pared, were more effective. On that Sunday 
 in Brookfield where I appeared as a candi- 
 date, my morning sermon was written, but my 
 evening sermon was extempore. I remember 
 thinking to myself, ^'If you fail to get your 
 call it will be because of your extempore 
 effort." I received the call. 
 
 Some months later the leading deacon of 
 the church said to me, ''Do you know what got 
 you your call to Brookfield I replied, "Xo, 
 certainly not." He then responded, ^'It was 
 that extempore sermon in the evening, for 
 people said if you had courage enough to do a 
 thing like that as candidate, you were the kind 
 95 
 
MEMOEIES OF A HAPPY BOYHOOD 
 
 of man they wanted." So my carefully written 
 sermon failed to do what my extempore sermon 
 seems to have accomplished. . 
 
 At the end of the year, in the fall of 1872, 
 I bade a sad farewell to my Brookfield congre- 
 gation, whom I had learned to love, and went 
 down to iSTew York City where I began City 
 Mission work, in which I have been engaged, 
 first for fourteen years as pastor of Olivet 
 Church, and second for thirty-two years as Vice- 
 President, or President of the ^^^ew York City 
 Mission Society. 
 
 Printed in the United States of America 
 
 96 
 
Princeton Theological Seminary-Speer Library 
 
 1012 01034 3004