UC-NRLF 
 
 m, 
 
LIBRARY 
 
 UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA. 
 
 GIFT OF 
 
 Class 
 

THE MAN 
 
 WHO 
 
 MIGHT HAVE BEEN 
 
 A LOST BIOGRAPHY 
 
 ROBERT WHITAKER 
 
 San Francisco 
 
 The Whitaker and Ray Company 
 
 (Incorporated) 
 
Copyrighted, 1899 
 
 by 
 Robert Whitaker 
 
To my brother, William Carey WJiitaker, 
 who first led my boyish thoughts to consider 
 my personal relation to Jesus Christ, and 
 whose example of faith and fidelity these 
 many years has been both consolation and 
 inspiration to me, this little 'volume is 
 
 AFFECTIONATELY DEDICATED. 
 
 178766 
 
PROLOGUE. 
 THE STORY OF ESAU. 
 
 " And Jacob sod pottage; and Esau came in from 
 the field and he was faint; and Esau said to Jacob, Feed "Bread 
 
 T . - and pottage. 
 
 me, I pray thee, with that same red pottage; for I am 
 faint; therefore his name was called Edom. And 
 Jacob said, Sell me this day thy birthright. And Esau 
 said, Behold, I am at the point to die; and what profit 
 shall the birthright do to me? And Jacob said, Swear \ 
 to me this day; and he swore unto him; and he sold 
 his birthright unto Jacob. And Jacob gave Esau bread 
 and pottage of lentils; and did eat and drink, and rose 
 up, and went his way; so Esau despised his birthright." 
 
 Genesis, XXV, 29-34. 
 
THE MAN 
 
 WHO MIGHT HAVE BEEN 
 
 BY 
 
 ROBERT WHITAKER 
 
 I. 
 THE MAN WHO WAS. 
 
 He died at noontime, in the noontide of the year. 
 Like one of old, whom otherwise he least resembled, " In such 
 
 an hour as 
 
 death met him in the fullness of his powers. " His eye ye think not. 
 was not dim, nor his natural force abated." One 
 moment he talked with his beloved about the common 
 things of daily life about the midday meal. Another 
 moment and his heart had ceased to beat, the color 
 had fled from his cheeks, the strong limbs were limp 
 and helpless, and the watchers in hushed accents and 
 with frightened faces whispered, " He is dead." 
 
 And then the word went out over all the land. And 
 a thousand pens were busy reciting the story of his 
 life. For weeks the types were burdened with his 
 name. There were innumerable repetitions of a few 
 familiar facts. There were judgments, diverse in form 
 and particular statement, but strikingly unanimous in 
 substance and intent. And there were homilies not a 
 few, according to the standpoint from which each 
 
 7 
 
The Man 
 
 Who Might Have Been. 
 
 writer wrote. The orthodox pointed a moral in accord- 
 "Demortuis ance with their faith. The liberal did likewise. Few 
 
 nil nisi 
 
 bonum." there were of any faith, or no faith at all, who after the 
 
 elemental facts were stated, and the judgment on this 
 life pronounced, did not find therein something to 
 sustain their standards, and fortify them in their be- 
 liefs. 
 
 There was an unexpected tenderness in all the com- 
 ment upon him, even from the pens of those whom he 
 had most hated and opposed. Some indeed suggested 
 that perchance his opinions concerning both history 
 and destiny had experienced very considerable modi- 
 fication since his sudden exit from this mundane 
 sphere into the vast unknown. But there was no ring 
 of exultation that an enemy was gone, no impeach- 
 ment of his motives, no attempt to hide his merits, no 
 manifestation of the bitterness which his opponents 
 had sometimes shown in earlier years. There was pity 
 for his loved ones, praise for his personal excellencies, 
 compassion over his mistakes. The world laid him 
 away reluctantly, and yet with no profound regret, 
 except that being what he was he had not been the 
 man he might have been. And over his grave friend 
 and foe alike confessed the huge failure of his life. 
 The confession was not always clear and plain r but the 
 word was there in nearly every case, even when cov- 
 
The Man 
 
 W ho Might Have Been. 
 
 ered to the careless eye with rhapsody and eulogy, and 
 buried deep under fading flowers of speech. Some so A tale 
 far forgot what he might have been as they remem- * 
 bered what he was that they almost said his life was a 
 success. Yet at the last these also caught themselves, 
 and owned with tears or forced sighs something of dis- 
 appointment and regret. 
 
 Concerning these few facts they were all in general 
 agreed. He was born when the first third of our cen- 
 tury had slipped away, and his years were done just 
 before the century closed. His father was a preacher 
 of the faith so hated and combated by the son. A 
 Congregational clergyman, when the ancestral faith 
 of New England was still bound more or less with the 
 grave clothes of medievalism, this father had not lived 
 an altogether tranquil life. His pastorates were 
 many, and as to most of them their time was short. 
 He worked slowly westward, and at the age of ten the 
 lad with honey on his lips found himself in the young 
 and thriving commonwealth of Illinois. Here the boy 
 grew to manhood's years. He had never loved the 
 faith of his father, perhaps because the father suffered 
 unjust accusation and petty persecution from those 
 who thought they loved it more. Perhaps the boy's 
 revolt was helped by the very strictness of his training, 
 for in after years he spoke mockingly and with bitter- 
 
The Man 
 
 Who Might Have Been. 
 
 ness of the Sundays of his boyhood, when he was com- 
 " Melancholy pelled to go to church two or three times a day, with 
 Sunday School sandwiched in between, and gave this 
 rigid training as a cause of his unbelief. Whatever 
 the cause, the fact was soon apparent that here was no 
 mild skeptic, no indifferent deserter from the popular 
 belief. He derided the faith which his father had 
 preached, and as the power and popularity of his un- 
 scrupulous attacks upon it were made manifest to him 
 the virulence of his language and the bitterness of his 
 opposition to it seemed to increase. He turned to law 
 and politics for his livelihood, but reaped a fortune 
 from his lectures against the Bible and the Christian 
 belief. Yet he suffered loss and disadvantage, it was 
 said, rather than surrender one iota of his liberty of 
 speech, his right to unrestricted utterance of his 
 thought. But whether he suffered more for love of 
 liberty than for hate of religion who shall say? There 
 was a day when he might have been Governor of 
 Illinois, and beyond that shining goal were other sum- 
 mits of political attainment which seemed to invite his 
 feet. But rather than consent to be silent concerning 
 the thing which he most detested, which was more 
 loved of the common heart than he ever guessed, he 
 laid aside his ambition, and helped another to the 
 place. He won some measure of political renown by 
 
 -10- 
 
The Man 
 
 Who Might Have Been. 
 
 his fair eulogies of the Plumed Knight, yet did not 
 
 help his leader to the honor which he asked for him. "AS a symbol 
 
 of love in 
 
 In war he played an inconspicuous and quite indiffer- heaven.- 
 ent part. As a lawyer he succeeded, not as one pro- 
 foundly versed in law, nor as one whose probity was 
 beyond that of his fellows at the bar, but as a gifted 
 advocate, with power to picture things in words, and 
 sway awhile the hearts of men. And his home life, it 
 was everywhere reported, was very fair to see. He was 
 the faithful husband, the fond and careful father. The 
 women of his household worshiped him, who gave 
 them back a fullness of love and homage such as too 
 many wives and daughters seek in vain. They knew 
 no other worship than the love of one another. It was 
 only moonlight on the water, as our own Longfellow 
 sang, but they saw so much of beauty in it they would 
 not lift their eyes to see the planets overhead, while he 
 laughed derisively at others who preferred the glory 
 of the sky to its best reflection in life's shadowed 
 stream. And while he laughed the shadow from above 
 fell suddenly upon him, and the glory at his feet died 
 away. And many said, " He was honest." Many said, 
 " He was clever." Many said, " He was kind and 
 true." But because of him many kept sad eyes upon 
 the stream, looking for love, and happiness, and hope, 
 nor found them as he had found them for a little while, 
 
 11 
 
The Man 
 
 Who Might Have Been. 
 
 because the stream was darker and swifter where they 
 "Audits stood. And when they were urged to look upward 
 
 image here." where there was light for all they mockingly made 
 answer, " Nay, there is nothing up there. He said so, 
 and his words were wonderfully sweet and good. 
 Somewhere in the stream he found the glory that we 
 seek. He would not lift eyes upward, why should we, 
 since he taught us that the upward look is all a hollow 
 cheat?" And even his beloved, whom he had taught 
 to think that the shimmering glory on the stream was 
 the only bright reality, still looked into the dark 
 waters, although the glory was altogether gone. But 
 all who had caught the beauty of the moon and stars, 
 and the measureless depth of the sky that was softly 
 reddening toward the dawn, sighed as they remem- 
 bered the music of his voice, and looked on the beauty 
 of his face, and said, Alas! Alas! 
 * * * 
 
 12 
 
The Man 
 
 Who Might Have Been. 
 
 II. 
 
 THE MAN WHO MIGHT HAVE BEEN. 
 
 Back in his boyhood years there came a change. 
 Of the details of that experience he could never speak, '"The heavenly 
 
 vision." 
 
 but the same Jesus who was seen by the persecutor 
 of Tarsus was made manifest to the understanding of 
 this lad, already far more concerned than he himself 
 apprehended with the problems of the soul. He stood 
 on a little rise in a great sweep of western prairie. 
 The sun was setting beyond the river, with its fringe 
 of trees. The mood of evening was upon him, and the 
 silence of the closing day seemed more of the inner 
 man than of the world without. And in that silence 
 the still small voice of the ever-living Christ spoke 
 plainly to his heart. There was a little while of over- 
 whelming self-consciousness. Like Peter, when he 
 cried aloud, " Depart from me; for I am a sinful man, 
 O Lord," the sense of his own unworthiness was so 
 strong upon him that he could not stand and face the 
 setting sun. Down on his face in the swaying grass 
 he fell, and lay there for a time like one who was dead. v 
 When he lifted up his face it seemed as if the glory 
 that had faded from the skies had been gathered into 
 his eyes. He sat, unspeaking or unmoving, till the 
 
 13 
 
The Man 
 
 Who Might Have Been. 
 
 darkness about him had obscured every feature of the 
 "Not con- landscape. It was so light within that he waked with 
 
 formed but 
 
 transformed." surprise at the call of a familiar voice to the conscious- 
 ness that it was dark without. Then rising slowly to 
 his feet he walked with bared head under the smiling 
 stars until his father's house was reached. No word 
 of his experience passed between father and son, or 
 any member of the family. Yet it soon appeared that 
 the young man was transformed. He was not less 
 loving, nor less sprightly in his bearing and his 
 speech. But he was vastly more reverent, more sym- 
 pathetic, more in touch with the heart of men and 
 things. The difference deepened rather than grew less 
 as the days advanced. He was reticent about confess- 
 ing his faith at first, but it could not be concealed. 
 And though there lingered something of his former 
 skepticism as concerned the things which were least 
 fundamental in his new-found faith, his devotion to the 
 Man of Nazareth was so complete, so over-mastering, 
 that it could not be gainsaid. 
 
 There is little need to trace his public career. He 
 had himself inclined to law and politics, and there 
 were many prepared to prophesy for him the largest 
 measure of success in court and state. But his passion 
 for the great realities, God, and Immortality, and his 
 intense devotion to the Christ of God, swept away all 
 
 14 
 
The Man 
 
 Who Might Have Been. 
 
 small considerations of gain and honor, as chips and 
 
 straws are borne on the rising tide of the mighty Mis- " Open thy 
 
 mouth for the 
 
 sissippi when the spring-time rains descend. He turned 
 of inward necessity toward the pulpit, and rose with 
 rapid bounds to share the pre-eminence among the 
 princely preachers of America with his life-long friend 
 and fellow laborer, Beecher. From the little country 
 church where his ministry began he was called to the 
 Church of the People in Chicago. Here for thirty 
 years he exercised such an influence as few Americans 
 have known. He was the champion of all the op- 
 pressed and heavy laden. In him the fugitive slave 
 found an advocate whose eloquent appeal touched the 
 very shackles with such fervent heat that it seemed as 
 if they melted at his words. The Union had no nobler 
 champion in the dark days of the Civil War. And as 
 the tides of social discontent rose higher and higher in 
 the metropolis of the West his was the voice which in 
 the name of the Man of Galilee stilled the storm and 
 calmed the waters of the sea. He was the friend of 
 the workingman, the self-sacrificing pleader for the 
 poor, the prophet of the better civilization, whose dawn 
 he helped to hasten, when every man shall call his fel- 
 low, brother, and the war of selfish commercialism 
 shall have an end. His speech on the occasion of the 
 Anarchist Riots, will the world ever forget? His words 
 
 15 
 
The Man 
 
 Who Might Have Been. 
 
 were like blazing thunderbolts as he hurled sarcasm, 
 "And plead story, epithet and invective in the faces of all who 
 
 the cause of 
 
 the poor and warred with the reign of law. Beecher's triumph at 
 Liverpool when he turned the tides of English sympa- 
 thy for the North was enacted over again. Some who 
 heard him say that it seemed to them as if they stood 
 in old Jerusalem, within the temple walls, and saw the 
 wrathful Nazarene with His whip of small cords, and 
 His burning eyes as He drove the money changers 
 from the sacred courts. So did this young preacher, 
 in the prime of his years, whip the modern Pharisees 
 from the courts of social justice where they bought 
 and sold and trafficked in the blood of men. For his 
 was no vile vituperation of the red-flagged anarchists 
 of public disrepute, whom indeed he did not spare. 
 Yet his words for them were as melted butter to molten 
 metal as compared with his scathing of the selfish rich, 
 the unscrupulous well-to-do, the easy-going Pharisees 
 of the labor market who have entered into the inheri- 
 tance of the men who crucified the Saviour of the 
 world. From that hour till the moment when death 
 touched him he was the leader of the new crusade 
 against the slavery of man to man for meat and drink. 
 In this he made his enemies, both in church and state. 
 But there was withal so much of the gentleness and 
 unselfishness of the Christ whom he adored in his 
 16 
 
The Man 
 
 Who Might Have Been. 
 
 manner and his speech, so much of natural charm in 
 his bearing toward those who most opposed him, that "The greatest 
 he conquered often where he was hated most. He was if " 
 not profound, either as a preacher or as an advocate 
 of social reform. There were flaws without number 
 in both his sermons and his lectures. But the great 
 heartedness of the man, the intense earnestness and 
 sincerity with which he spoke, his vital hold upon the 
 great issues of life present and life to come, his happy 
 harmony of that due regard for the realities of the 
 unseen and the problems of the world that now is, and 
 above all his exaltation of Jesus Christ, whom he 
 served with the faith and fervor of an apostle, com- 
 bined to make him altogether the most attractive 
 figure in the pulpit of our land. 
 
 This might have been the case had he been no more 
 than the great preacher and social leader already set 
 forth. But the larger half of his service to the world 
 was his exaltation of every-day religion. His home life 
 was a dream of happiness, a sermon far more eloquent 
 than even his honeyed lips could command. No man 
 among us has done more for marital fidelity, parental 
 responsibility and domestic Christianity than did this 
 pulpit prince. He counted it the happiest part of his 
 ministry to extol those relations which next to man's 
 relation with his God excite the profoundest emotions 
 
 17 
 
The Man 
 
 Who Might Have Been. 
 
 of the heart. There was a certain fitness in him for this 
 "Death-toiife task. He loved as few men love, and glorified the 
 
 crown or 
 
 shame." home,whose light he was so many years, with a bright- 
 
 ness only heaven can equal or excel. And next to that 
 wonderful devotion which he had for Jesus Christ, aye 
 better it were to say as a part of it, his devotion to wife, 
 and children, and home, and the words of matchless 
 eloquence, in which he extolled and exalted domestic 
 virtues and family life, have endeared him beyond all 
 expression to millions of people the wide world over 
 who have hung upon his lips or followed his teaching 
 on the printed page. 
 
 Death gave no word of warning, but kissed him 
 quickly on the lips and charmed him into silence ere 
 one of the millions who would have kept him could 
 interpose a word. He smiled, and followed swiftly into 
 the blessed land where so many whose burdens he had 
 lightened, whose faith in higher things he had 
 strengthened against doubts and fears, waited for him, 
 with, we may dare to think, some heavenly impatience 
 to catch his eye and hear his voice again. No wonder 
 that all men mourned him. The liberal loved him for 
 his services to the larger faith. The orthodox for his 
 supreme devotion to the heart of Christ and the sub- 
 stance of the Gospel. The Catholic spake him kindly 
 for his gentleness and tolerance, the Protestant for his 
 18 
 
The Man 
 
 Who Might Have Been. 
 
 frankness and his courage, the poor for his self-deny- 
 ing labors in their behalf, and all men for his manly, "o Absalom 
 fearless bearing in his chosen walk. Even the infidel 
 had a kindly word for this champion of the Christian 
 faith, for though he had shown the foolishness and 
 hollowness of unbelief, and punctured with his wit the 
 inconsistencies and absurdities of every school of 
 skepticism, he had so borne himself that all men bowed 
 their heads in reverence beside his grave. And when 
 they laid him away the glory of undimmed sunslime 
 so filled his grave that men were astonished and 
 looked at one another with wonder, and on every eye 
 the tears were touched with splendor, as if each drop 
 reflected the rainbow of eternal hope. 
 
 19 
 
The Man 
 
 Who Might Have Been. 
 
 EPILOGUE. 
 THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF PAUL. 
 
 " If any other man thinketh to have confidence in 
 "jesus th e flesh, I yet more: circumcised the eighth day, of 
 
 only." 
 
 the stock of Israel, of the tribe of Benjamin, a Hebrew 
 of the Hebrews; as touching the law a Pharisee; as 
 touching zeal, persecuting the church ; as touching the 
 righteousness which is in the law found blameless. 
 Howbeit, what things were gain to me, these have I 
 counted loss for Christ. Yea verily, and I count all 
 things to be loss for the excellency of the knowledge 
 of Christ Jesus my Lord : for whom I suffered the loss 
 of all things, and do count them but dung, that I may 
 gain Christ, and be found in him, not having a right- 
 eousness of mine own, even that which is of the law, 
 but that which is through faith in Christ, the righteous- 
 ness which is of God by faith: that I may know him, 
 and the power of his resurrection, and the fellowship 
 of his sufferings, becoming conformed unto his death : 
 if by any means I may attain unto the resurrection 
 from the dead. Not that I have already obtained, or 
 am already made perfect: but I press on, if so be that 
 I may apprehend that for which also I was appre- 
 hended by Christ Jesus. Brethren, I count not myself 
 20 
 
The Man 
 
 Who Might Have Been. 
 
 yet to have apprehended: but one thing I do, forget- 
 ting the things which are behind, and stretching for- " A crown 
 
 of firlory.'* 
 
 ward to the things which are before, I press on toward 
 the goal unto the prize of the high calling of God in 
 Christ Jesus." 
 
 * * * 
 
 " For I am already being offered, and the time of 
 my departure is come. I have fought the good fight, 
 I have finished the course, I have kept the faith : hence- 
 forth there is laid up for me the crown of righteous- 
 ness, which the Lord, the righteous judge, shall give 
 to me at that day: and not to me only, but also to all 
 them that have loved his appearing." (Philippians, 
 III, 4-14; II. Timothy, IV, 6, 7, 8. The Revision.) 
 
 * * * 
 
 21 
 

178766