Terre Haute Weekly Gazette, Volume 6, Number 2, Terre Haute, Vigo County, 9 July 1874 — Page 2

PS!!!

f, VltttEST COUNTRY CIBCULATION

WM. C. HALL & CO,, Piop'rs. WM. C. BAt.II.. „,..81'KNCEB F. BALL.

Office, South Vifth Street, near Maiu.

THE l)AitY OAZBTTB 5S nublUhet! every afternoon, except Sunday, and «oM by th%. flMMtfm p*"" "fortnight. liy mall 98. per year #3.00 lor 6 months 81,50 for 3 months, The WEEKLY GAZETTE in Issued every 'morality, and contains all the bent rnattor of the six dally issues. The WEKELV

UAZKTTK is the largot paper printed In Terre ilaute, ar:i iijsplu Jor: Una copy, per year, 81.50 six months, 75c three months,'40e. All suhrcrlpUoBs must tic paid for in advance. Tire paper will, invariably be discontinued at expiration of time.

Ail drew all letters, BALL & DIOff KKSON, GAZETTE, Terre Haute, Ind.

Thursday, June 2,1874.

IN Iowa the Republicans are ii) favor of specie payment*, and •woman's suffrage.

J_UJ.

IT in a terrible tiling to get a Southern editor down on a man. Here, for example, is the way a Mississippi quill-driver impales his victim: "Kolla Williams, the pop-eyed, fiatnosod, thick-lipped, chicken-stealing preacher, radical louder, and special pet and associate of the pale-faced New England thieves around Jackson, has come to grief at last."

A coRKESPONDKNTof the St. Louis Republican, writing from Chicago, asserts as a positive fact that in a recent procession, certain politicians, anxious to catch the Granger vote, marched in the line with their delicato hands stained with the bronzing juice of walnut bark. We mention this as a reminder to Terre Haute politicians who are anxious to appear to be farmers without undergoing the trials and tribulations of work incident thereto. A word to the wise is said to be sufficient.

Tins'Democracy of the 112th, Fort Wayne, Indiana, District are of the opinion that "an irredeemable currency Is calculated to make tiie whole business of the country speculative, and thereby u/Ilict ull reputable business with the peril of continued panic and disaster," and favor a return to specie payments. Their good sense forsook them at this point, and they give expression to some idle and senseless babble about returning to specie payments without reducing the present volume of currency. But the lirst part is good, and no mistake.

TIIE Illinois friends of free trade and hard money have begun in the right way to work for their principles. They have cailed for a convention of ail persons favoring free trade and hard money to meet in mass convention at Springfield, September 1, then and there, to ratify and indorse their principles and nominate a ticket. Thero will be no uncertainty about what their principles should be, the cull settles that.

Only the believers in tho principles enunciated in the call are invited to attend (ho convenlion, and nothing else can be adopted. This is the right and proper way for elections to be conducted the believers in certain fixed and definite principles of government arranging themselves on the one side, and ail opponents of those principles arranging themselves on the other. Then a political contest docs not degenerate into a squabble for office.

Tilton-llccclier.

In this issue of the GAZKTTE, •we

re-produco

the original aiticle

published in Woodhull & Clailin's Weekly, in November, 1872, originating the Beecher-Tilton scandal, which, after smouldering (wo years, lias broken out now anew withincreasing force.

If any body shall say that this article is unfit for publication, will not argue the point, for we are largely persuaded to tlio same belief ourself. When it lirst appeared nothing could have induced the GAZETTE to publish it, believing as we did that it was wholly false. Now, however, that the Tiiton letter has given some color of credibility to the Woodhull narrative, and placed the further concealment of the whole transaction in the interest of the public good, beyond all possibility of accomplishment, there seems to be some reason for the people who are to be the jury in this matter, hearing the whole evidence in the case. To people who don't want to know anything about the disagreeable scandal, we will say that a lighted match applied to the OASSKTTK will kindle a destroying flame others who desire to probe the matter to the bottom, aibi keep all the evidence so as to render an intelligent verdict, when the testimony Is all in, we would* advise to file the GAZETTE away for future reference. This matter must be thoroughly ventilated

Editorial Notes.

THK Cincinnati Commercial thinks that the "Know Nothing" party lias gotten possession of the High School.

Fkkd BiK.nuscir, the notorious and succossful counterfeiter, has been pardoned out of the Missouri penitentiary by President Grant.

M. C. KBBK was nominated lor Con: gfess, yesterday, in tho Third District, by acclamation, ou a hard money and free trade platform. Good for Kerr.

THK veteran actor, Wni. Davidgo, will shortly issue a work setting forth the sinful ways of clergymen. It is expected that Beechor will get a whole chapter.

JUST for the encouragement of the pork-eater, we mention that Mrs. Eilcrs, of Toledo, and three children, hnvo just gone to tlio land of rest, accompanied by some millions ot trichinae.

ONE more advocate of cremation bus been found. A negro woman in Kentucky built a lire and burned her new born babo, aud now that little niggei lies under thestovo and kicks its hot Is —in another world.

ApoTiiEit version of tIiv hatchet htory

runs

.-'/therefor.,

.that Andrew Seiner, ol Mt.

Veruon, cut his mule with a hatchet. Considerably cut up at this, (he inula himself cut up in turn, and now it. is tiMH*gbt~tfe*tReiner's little daughter cannot live. .X

TUESt. Louis Democrat, bercrof.ire a Republican paper, has concluded that a change of some Kind is necessary for its pecuniary salvation, nnd is o'nt strong for tho "people's movement!" Pecuniarily, tho last, end is worso than the first. *1THB GA/.CTTK is indebted to the Secretary of the Cincinnati Industrial Exposition, for a very neat eird in which its attention is called to the glories of tho forth-coming exposition. Wj3 should prefer hearing the jingle of tho exposition's specie hefore expatiating to any alarming extent. There is nothing we enjoy so much as writing -4ol8bon.ro articles about expositions except it bfcspendjug

l.b«

,pl

BEECIIER-TILTON-WOODHULL.

Woodhull Exposure.

Tlic Original

Tliineglunlng of tlio Bother.

ii jiroposo as the commencement of a series of aggressive moral warfare on the social question, to begin in this article with ventilating one of the most stupendous scandals which has ever occurred in any community. I refer to tbat which has been whispered broad cast for the last two or three years through the cities of New York and Brooklyn, touching the character and conduct of the Rev. Henry Ward Beecher in his relation with the family of Theodore Tiiton. I intend that this article shall burst like a bomb-shell into the ranks of the moralistic social camp.

I am engaged in officering, and in some sonse conducting asocial revolution on the marriage question. I have strong convictions to the effect that this institution, as a bond or promise to love another to the end of life, and forego all other loves or passional gratifications, has outlived its day of usefulness that tho most intelligenfcand really virtuous of our citizens, especially in tho large cities of Christendom, have outgrown it are constantly apd systematically unfaithful to it despise and revolt against it, as a slavery, in their hearts and only submit to tho gem bianco of fidelity to it from tho dread of a sham public opinion, based on tho ideas of the past, and which no longer really represeut the convictions of anybody. The doctrines of scientific socialism have profoundly penetrated and permeated public opinion. No thought has so rapidly and completely carried the convictions of the thinking portions of the community as stirpiculture. The absurdity is too palpable, when it is pointed out, that we give a hundred times more attention to the laws of breeding as applied to horses and cattle and pigs, and even to our barn-yard fowls,than we do to the same laws as applied to human beings. It is equally obvious on a little reflection, that stirpiculture, or the scientific propagation and cultivation of the human animal, demands free love or freedom of the varied union of the sexes under the dictates of tho highest and best knowledge on the subject, as an essential and precedent condition. These considerations are too palpable to bo ignored, and they look to the complete and early supercedure of the old and traditional institution of marriage, by the substitution of some better system for the maintenance of women as mothers, and of children as progeny. All intelligent people know these facts and look for the coming of some wiser and better sys tem of social life. The supercedure of marriage in tlie near future, by some kind of socialistic arrangement is as much a foregone conclusion with all the best thinkers of to-day as was the approaching dissolution of slavery no more than five or ten years "before its actual abolition in tiie late war.

But, in tho meantimo men and women tromblo on tho brink of the revolution, and hesitate to avow their convictions, while yet partly aware of thoir rights, and urged by tiie legitimate impulses of their nature, tliey act upon tho new doctrines while they profess obedience to tho old. In this manner an organized hypocrisy has become the tone of our modern society. Poltroonrv, cowardice, and deception rule the hour. Tho continuance, for generations, of such utter falsity, touching ono of tho most sacred interests ot humanity, will almost eradicate the sense of honesty from tho human soul.

Every consideration of sourd expediency demands that these daj-s bo shortened that somobody lead tlio van in tlio announcement of iho higher order ol lite.

I in polled by such views, I entered tho combat with old errors, as I believe them to be, and brought forward, in addition to tho wiso and powerful words which othors have uttered on tlio subject, tho arguments which my own inspiration and reflections have suggested. No sooner had I done so than tho howl of persecution sounded in my oars. Instead of replying to my arguments, I was assaulted with shameful abuse. I was young and inexperienced in tho business of reform, and astounded to find what, as I have since learned from the veterans in tho cause, is tho usual fact, that tho most persist­

ent and

It was, nevertheless, from these quarters that I was most severely asnailed. It was vexatious and trying, confess, for one of my temper, to stand under tho galling lire of person alities from parties who should have been my warmest advocatos, or who should, else, have reformed their lives in accordance with a morality which they wished the public to understand they professed. I was sorely and repeatodly tempted to retort, in person alities, to these attacks. But simply as personality or porsonal defense, or spiteful retort, I have almost wholly abstained during these years of snarp conflict from making any uso of the rich resources at"my command for that kind of attack.

But, in the moantimo, tho question caino to pross itself upon my consideration Had I any right,having assumed the championship of social freedom, to forego tho use of hair the weapons which tho facts no less than the philosophy of the subject placed at my command for conducting tho warthrough any mere tenderness to those who were virtual traitors to the truth which they know and were surrepti tiously acting upon Had not the sacred cause of human rights and human well-being a paramount claim over my own conduct? Was I not, in withholding tho facts aud conniving at A putrid mass of seething falsehood and hypocrisy, in some sense a par taker in these crimes and was I not, in fact, shrinking from tho responsibility of making the exposure more from regard to my own sensitiveness and disliko to bo hurt than from any

true

sympathy with those who would be callt

od upon to suffer?

Thc-So questions once beforo my mind would never bo disposed of until they were fairly nottlod upon their owu merits, and apart, so far as I could sep urate them, from my own feelings or tho feelings of those more directly involved. 1 have come slowly, deliberately, and may add reluctantly, to my conclusions. I went back to and studied the history of other reforms I found that Garrison not only de nounced Blavery in the abstract, but that ho attacked it hi tho concrete. It was not only "the sum of all villainies," but it was the particular villainy of this aud that and the other great and influential man, North and South in the community. Reputation had to suffer. Ho bravely and persistently c.illed things by their right names. He pointed out and depicted the individual instances of cruelty. Ho dragged to the light and scathed and stigmatiz ed the individual offenders. He made them a hissing and a by-word, so far as in him lay. He shocked the public sensibilities by actualand vivid pictures of slaveholding ntrociUes, and tent spis into the enemies' camp io search out the instances. The world cried shame and said it was scandal ous and stopped their ears and blinded thei* eyes, that their own sensibilities might not be hurt by these horrid revelations They cast tho blanket of their charities aud sympathies around the real offenders lor their misf»rtuue iu being brought to the light, and denounced (he informer as a malignant and cruel wretch for not covering up scenes too dreadful to be thought upon as it it were not a thousand tinits more dreadful tbat they should be euacted. But Use biave old cjeiops iguored alike their riticisms, their protects, and their real and their un ck sensibilities, and hammered away at his anvil, forging thunderbolts of the

at*

gods and nobody now says be was wrong. A new public opinion bad to be created, and he knew tbat people bad to be shocked, and that individual personal feelings bad to hurt. AB Bismarck is reported to have said: "If an omelet has to be made some eggs have to be broken." Every revolution has its terrific cost, if not in blood and treasure, then still in the less tangible but alike real sentimental injury of thousands of sufferers. The preliminary and paramount question is: Ought the revolution to be made. co9t what it may? Is the cost to humanity greater of permitting the standing evil to exist? and if so, then let the cost be incurred, fall where it must. If justice to humanity demand the given expenditure, then excepting the particular enterprise of reform, we accept all its necessary consequences, and enter upon oar work, fraught, it may be, with repugnance to ourselves as it is necessarily with repugnance to others.

I have said that I come slowly, deliberately, and reluctantly to the adoption of this method of warfare. I was also hindered and delayed by the fact that if 1 entered upon it at all I saw no way to avoid making the first onslaught in the most distinguished quarters. It wonld be cowardice in me to onearth tho peccadillos of little men, and to leave untouched the derelictions and offenses of the magnates of social and intellectual power and position. How Blowly I have moved in this matter, and bow reluctantly it may be inferred, will appear from £hese little points of history:

More than two years ago these two cities—New York and Brooklyn—were rife with rumors of an awful scandal in Plymouth Church. These rumors were whispered, and covertly alluded to in almost every circle. But the very enormity of the Tacts, as the world views such matters, hushed the agitation and prevented exposure. Tho

Ey

slanderous I'lid foul-mouthed

accusations came irom precisely those who, ns I often happened to know, stood nearest to mo in thoir convictions, and whoso lives, privately, were a protest against tho very repression which 1 denounce. It was a paradox which I could not understand, that I was denounced as utterly bad for n/Ii lining-tlio light- of others to do as tliey did denounced by tho very persons whom my doctrines could alone Justify, and who claimed, at the mi mo time, to be conscientious and good men. My position led, nevertheless, to continuous confidences relating to people's own opinions and lives and tho opinions and lives of others. My mind became :harged with a whole literature of astonishing disclosures. Tho lives of almost the whole army of spiritualistic and social reformers, of all the sehoo's, were laid open beforo me. But the matter did not stop thero. I found that, to a great extent, tho social revolution was as far advanced among leading lights of the business and wealthy circles, and of the various professions, not oxcluding the clergy and the churches, as among technical reformers.

ress, warned by the laws of libel, and a tacit and in tho main honorable consensus to ignore all sach rumors until tbey enter the courts, or become otherwise matters of irrepressible notoriety, abstained from anv direct notice of the subject, and the rumors themselves were finally stifled or forgotten. A few persons only knew something directly of the facts, but among them, situated as I was, I happened to be one. Already the question prensed on me whether 1 ought not to use tlio event to forward the cause of social freedom, but I only saw clear in the matter to the limited extent of throwing out some feolers to the public on tho subject. It was often a matter of long and anxious consultation between me and my cabinet of confidential advisors.

In June, 1870, Woodhull & Claflin's Weekly published an articlo in reply to Henry C. Bowen's attack on myself in the columns of the Independent, the editorship of which had just been vacated by Theodore Tiiton. In this article tbo following paragraph occurred: "At this very moment awful and herculean efforts are being mado in a neighboring city to suppress the mrtst terrific scandal which has ever astonished and convulsed any community,, Clergy, congregation, and community will be alike hurled into more than all the consternation which the groat explosion in Paris carried to that unfortunate city, if this great effort at suppression fail."

Subsequently I published a letter in both World and Times, in which was tho following sentence: "I know a clergyman of eminence in Brooklyn who livos in concubinage with the wile of another clergyman of equal eminence."

It was generally and-well understood among the peoplo of the press especially, that both of these references wore to thi* CHSO ol Mr. Boecher's and it came to bo generally suspected tbat I was better informed regarding tho facts of the case than others, and was rosorving publicity of my knowledge for a more convenient season. This suspicion was heightened nearly into conviction when it transpired that Theodoro Tiiton was an earnest and apparently conscientious advocate of many of my radical tbooriei, as appeared in his far-famed biography of me, and in numerous other publications in the Golden Ago and elsewhere. Mr. Tilton's warmest friends were shocked at bis course, and when he added to his remarkable proceedings, his brilliant advocacy of my Fourteenth Amendment theory, in his letters to Horace Greeley,Chas. Sumner and Mat. Carpenter, they considered him irremediably committed to the most radical of all radicals. Assurance v^as made doublv suro when he presided atStelnway Hall, when I, for the first time, fully and boldly advanced my free-love doctrines. It was notod, however, that this man who stood before the world fully committed to the broadest

principles ol liberty, made it convenient to bo conspicuously absent from tho convention of the Women Suffragists at Washington last January (VI1 sorts or rumors were thereupon rife.

Some

tiaid ho had "gone back" on

his advocacy of free-love some said that a rupturo had taken placo between him and the loaders of the suffrage movement, and many were the theories brought forward to explain the facts. But the real cause did not trans piro until Mr. Tiiton was found at Cincinnati urging as a candidate the very man whom he had recently so severely castigated with his most caustic pen. It was then wisely surmised that political ambition, and the editorial chair of the Tribuno, and his life-long per sonal devotion to Mr. Greeley, were the inducements which had sufficed to turn his head and heart away, tempo rarilv at least, from our movement.

About this time rumors floated out that Mrs. Woodhull, disgusted at the recent conduct of Mr. Tiiton, and the advice given him by certain of his Iriends, was animadverting in not very measured terms upon their conduct. An article specifying matters involving soveral of these persons, obtained considerable circulation, and with otlior circumstances, such as the definite statement of facts, with names and places, indicated tbat the time was at hand, nigh even unto the door, when the things that had remained hidden, should he brought to light, and the whole affair he made publio.

Some time in August last tbero appeared in the Evening Telegram a paragraph which hinted broadly at the nature of the impending expose. About this time, a gentleman from abroad to whom I had related some of the facts in my possession, repeated them to a member in Mr. Beecher's church, who denounced tbe -whole story as an infamous libel but some days later he acknowledged both to his friend and me, tbat he had inquired into the mattor and had learned that it was "a damuinff fact." This gentleman occupies a resopnsible position, aud his word is good for all that ho utters. Such was the facility with which confirmations wero obtained when sought for. When therefore, those who were conversant with the case, saw in the Boston Herald aud other papers, that I had made a public statement regarding tho whole matter, they wore not in the least surprised. It-shows that tbe press had concluded that it was time to recognize the sensation which, whether they would or not, was destined soon to shako the social structure fiom its foundation.

A reporter was then specially detail ed to interview me in order, as he said that the matter might be published in certain of tbe New York papers. Why tbat interview has been suppressed is not possible to affirm with certainty hut it is oasy to guess. An impeenni ous reporter can be bought off with a few hundred dollars. And thera are those who would readily pay thou sands to shut the columns of the press agaist this exposure. Fortunately have nearly a verbatim copy of tbe report, as the interviewer prepared it, and in this shape I shall BOW present it to the public.

But before proceeding to the main matter, let me relate, more in detail the

facts

which finally determined me

to enter npon this adventurous and responsible method of agitation. In September, 1871, I was elected, at tbe anuual convention at Troy, President of the National Association ol Spiritualists. I had never cousociated with the Spiritualists, although for many years both a Spiritualist and a medium myself, with rare and wonderful experience of my own from my childhood up. I went to this conven tion merely as a spectator, with no pre vious concert or machinery of any kind, and was nij'self «s absolutely ta ken bv surprise by my nomination and election as could have been any one present. It was said editorially in our paper, September 30, 1871, and said truly: "Her surprise at her reception, and her nomination to the Presidency of the society, was equaled only by the gratitude winch she felt, and will ever feel, at the unexpected and tumultuous kindness with which she was then and there honored beyond her desert."

In Wood ball & ClMfliii's Weekly, of November 11,1871. 1 addressed a President's message to the American Association of Spiritualists. In that document I made use of these words "A pew apd mightier j».wer. tMaP

rings and caucuses, than all the venal Legislatures and Congresses, has already entered the arena. Not only are all the reform parties coalbscent in the reform plane, but tbey have already coalesced in spirit, under tbe new lead, and 'a nation will be born in a_day. Tbey have already taken possession of the public conviction. Somewhat unconsciously, but really, all tbe people look to the coming of a new era but all of them are not so well aware as we are tbat the Bpirit world has already exerted a great and diversified influence over this, while it is not till quite recently that the spiritual development of this world has made it possible for the other to maintain real and continuous relations ^vith it. "Your enthusiastic acceptance] of me, and your election of me as your President, was, in a sense, hardly your act. It was an event prepared for you, and to which you were impelled by the superior powers to which both you and I are subject. It was only one step in a series of rapid and astounding events, which will, in a marvelouslly short time, change tbe entire face of the social world."

This and similar to this was the complete avowal which I then made of my faith, in the spiritual ordering of human events, and especially of a grand series of events, now in actual and rapid progress, and tending to culminate in thecomplete dissolution of tbe old social order, and in tbe institution of anew and celestial order of humanity in the world. Ai.d let me now take occasion to affirm, that all the, otherwise viewed, terrible c-venta which I am about to recite as having occurred in Plymouth Church, are merely parts of the same druma which have been cautiously and laboriously prepared to astound men into the consciousness of tbe possibilities of a better life and that 1 believe tbat all the parties to this embrolio have been, through out, tbe unconscious agents of the bigber powers. It is this belief, more than anything else, which Anally rec onciles me to enact my part in the matter, which is that of the mere nuncia to the world of the facts which have happened, and so of tbe new step in the dissolution of tbo old and the in augeration of the new.

At a large and enthusiastic national convention of the reformers of all schools, held in tho Apollo Hall, New York, the 11th and 12th of May, 1872, I was put in nomination as tbo candidate ot the Equal Rights party for the Presidency or the United States. Despite the brilliant promises of appearances at tho inception of this movement, a counter current of fatality seemed to attend both it and me. Tho press, suddenly divided between the other two great parties, refused all notice of tho new reformatory movement a series of pecuniary disasters stripped us, for the timo being, of the means of continuing our weekly publication, and forced ws into a desperate struggle for mere existence. I had not even the moans orcommunicating my condition to my own circle of friends. At he same timo my health failed from mere exhaustion. The inauguration of the now party, and my nomination, seemed to fall dead upon tho country and, to clap tho climax, a now batch of slanders and injurious inuendoes permeated tho community in respect io my condition and character.

Circumstances being in this state, the vear rolled round, and the next annual convention of the National Association of Spiritualists occurred in September, 1872, at Boston. I went tbere—dragged by tho sens©of duty tired sick, and discouraged as to my own future, to surrender my charge as President of tho Association, feeling as

I were distrusted and unpopular, and with no consolation but the consciousness, of having striven to do right, and my abiding faith in the wisdom and help of tbe spirit world.

Arrived at the great assemblage, I felt around me everywhere, not, indeod positive hostility, not even a fixed spirit of un friendliness, but one of painful uncertainty and doubt.

I

lis­

tened to the speeches of others, and tried to gather tbe sentiment of the great meeting. I rose finally to my feet to render an account of my stewardship, to surrender the charge and retiro. Standing there before that audience, I was aoized by ono of those overwhelming gusts of inspiration which sometimes conio upon me, from I know not where taken out of myself, hurried away from the immediate question of discussion, and made, by some power stronger than I, to pour out into the ears of tbat assembly, aud, as I was told subsequently, in a rhapsody of indignant eloquence, with circumstantial detail, the whole history of the Beecher and Tiiton scandal in Plymouth Church, aud to announce in prophetic terms something of the bearing of those events upon the future of Spiritualism. I know, perhaps, less than any of those present, all that I did actually say. They tell me that I used some naughty words upon that occasion. All that I know is, that if I swore, I did not swear profanely. Somo said, with the tears streaming from their eyes, that I swore divinely. That I could not have shocked op horrified the audieuce was shown by the fact that in the immense hall, packed to the ceiling, and ns absolutely to my own surprise as at my first election at Troy, I was re-elected President of the association. Still impressed by my own previous couvictions, that mv labors iu that connentiou were ended, I promptly declined the office.

The convention, however, refused to accept my declinature. The public press of Boston professed holy horror at tho freedom of my speech, and restricted their reports to the narrowest limits, carefully suppressing what I had siid of the conduct of the great clergyman. Tbe report went forward, however, through vari ous channels, iu a muffled and mutilated form, the general conclusion being, probably, with the uninformed, simply that "Mrs. Woodhull bad publicly slandered Mr. Beecher."

Added, therefore, to all other considerations, I am now placed in the situation that I must eitberenduro unjustly the imputation of being a slanderer, or I must resume my previously formed purpose, and relate in formal terms, for the whole public, the simplo facts ot the case as they have come to my knowledge, and so justify, in cool de liberation, the words I uttered, almost unintentionally, and by a sudden impulse, at Boston.

I accept the situation, and enter advisedly upon tho task I have under taken, knowing the responsibilities of the act and its possible consequences. I am impelled by no hostility whatever to Mr. Beecher, nor by any per sonal pique toward him or any other person. I recognize in tbe facts a fixed determination in tho spirit world to bring this subject to the light of day for high aud important uses to the world. They demand of me-my cooperation, and tbey shall have it, no matter what the consequences may be to me personally.

The following is the re-statement from notes, aided by my recollection of the interviewing upon this subject by the pressi reporter already alluded

tUReporter—"Mrs.

Woodhull, I have

called to ask if you are prepared aud willing to furninli a full statement or the Beeeher-Tilton scandal lor publication in the city papers?"

MYs. Woodhull—"I do not know that I ought tool ject to repeating whatever I know in rotation to it. Yon under stand, of course, that I take a diflerent view of such matters from those usually avowed by other people. Still I have good reason to think that far more people eutertaiu views corren ponding to mine than dare to assert them oropenlv live up to them."

Reporter—"How, Mrs. Woodhull, would yon stato in the most condensed way your opinions on this subject, as they differ from those avowed and ostensibly lived by tke public at large?"

Mrs. Woodhull—"I believe that the marriage institution, like slavery and monarchy, and many other tilings whic.i have been good or necessary in their day, is now (ffete, and in a general sense injurious, instead of being beneficial to the commuuity, although of course it mu?t continue to linger nu(il better institutions can be formed. I mean by marriase, iu this connection, any foic or obligatoiy tie between he texes, any legal intervention or constraint to prevent people from adjusting their love relations precisely a- they do their religious affairs in- this country, in complete personal freedom changing and improving ihera from time to time, and according to circumstances."

R«n rter—"I einfe^-i. thea, lean not understand why you of all persous should have any fault to find with Mr. Beecher, eveu assuming everything to be true of him which I httve hitherto heard only vaguely hinted at."

Mrs. Woodhull—"I have no fault to find with him in any such sense as you mean, nor in any such sense as that in which the wojld will condemn bim. I have no doubt that he has done tbe very best which he could do under all the circumstances —with his demanding physical nature, and witb the terrible restrictions upon a clergyman's life, imposed by that ignorant public opinion about physiological laws, which tbey, nevertheless, more, perhaps, than any other class, do their best to perpetuate. Tbe fsult 1 find with Mr. Beecher Is of a wholly different character, as have told him repeatedly and frankly, and as he knows very well. It is, indeed, the exact opposite to that for which the world will condemn him. I condemn him because I kuow, and have every opportunity to know, that he entertains, on conviction, substantially tbe same views which I entertain on tbe Bocial question for many years, perhaps for bis whole adult life, in a manner which the religious and moralistic public ostensibly, and to some extent really, condemn tbat he has permitted himself, nevertheless, to be over-awed by public opinion, to profess to believe otherwise than as he does believe, to have helped to maintain for these many years that very social slavery under which lie was chafing, and against which he was secretly revolting both in thought and practice and that he has, in a word, consented, and still consents,to be a hypocrite. The fault with which I, therefore, charge him, is no infidelity to the old ideas, but unfaithfulness to tbe new. He is in heart, in conviction and in life, an ultra socialist reformer while in seeming and pretension he is the upholder of the old social slavery, and, therefore, does what he can to crush out and oppose me and those who act aud believe with me in forwarding the great social revolution. I know, myself, so little of the sentiment of fear, I have so little respect for an ignorant and prejudiced public opinion, I am so accustomed to say the thing that I think and do tbe thing that I believe to be right, that

I doubt not I am in danger of having far too little sympathy with the real difficulties of a man situated as Mr. Beecher has been, and is, when he contemplates the idea of facing social opprobrium. Speaking from my feelings, I am prone to denounce him as a poltroon, a coward aud a sneak not, as I tell you, for anything he has done, and for which the world would condemn him, but for failing to do what it seems to me so clear be ought to do for failing, in a word, to stand sbou'der to shoulder with mo aud others who are endeav oriiig tohasten asocial regeneration which be believes-in."

Reporter—"Ypu speak very confidently, Mrs. Woodhull, of Mr. Beecber's opinions and life. Will you please now to resume that subject and tell me exactly what you know of both

Mrs. Woodhull—"I had vaguely heard rumors of some scandal in re gard to Mr. Beecher, which I put aside as mere rumor and idle gossip of the hour, and gave to them fio at ten tion whatever. The first serious in timation I had that, there was some thing more than mere gossip in the matter came to me in the committee room at Washington, where the suffrage women congregated, during the winter of 1870, when I was there to urge ray views on the Fourteenth Amendment. It was hinted in the room (hat some of the women, Mrs Isabella Beecher Hooker, a sister of Mr. Beecher, among the number would snub Mrs. Woodhull on ac count of her social opinions and an tecedents. Instantly a gentleman a stranger to me, stepped forward and said: "It would ill become these women, and especially a Beech er, to talk of antecedents or to cast any smirch upon Mrs. Woodhull, for I am reliably assured that Henry Ward Beecher preaches to at least twenty of his mistresses every Sun day.

lI

paid no especial attention to the remark at tbe time, as I was very intensely engaged in the busiuess which had called me there but it afterward forcibly recurred to me with the thought also that it was strange that such a remark, made in such a presence, had seemed to have a subduing eflect instead of arousing iudiguation. The women who were there could not have treated me better than they dtd. Whether. Lhisjitxanira remark had Shy Influence in overcoming their objections to me I do not know but it is certain they were not set against me by it and, all of them, Mrs. Hooker included, subsequently professed the warmest friendship for me."

Reporter—"After this, I presume you sought- for the solution of the gentleman's remark."

Mrs. Woodhull—"No, I did not

It was brought up subsequently, in an intimate conversation between her and me, by Mrs. Pauline W.ight Da vis, without any seeking on. my part aud'to my very great surprise. Mrs Davis had been, it seems, a frequent visitor at Mr. Tilton's house in Brooklyu—-they having long been associated in the Woman's Rights movement—and she stood upon certain terms of intimacy in the family Almost at the same time to which have referred, when I was ill Wash ington, she called, as she told me, at Mr. Tilton's. Mrs. Tiiton iiietber at the door and burst into teais, ex claiming: 'Oh, Mrs. Davis, have you come to see me? For six months I have beeu shut up from tbe world, aud I thought no one ever would "come again to visit me.' In the in terview tbat followed, Mrs. Tiiton spoke freely of a long series of inti mate, and so-called criminal rela tious, on her part, with the Rev,

Henry Ward Beecher of the discov ery of the facts by Mr. Tiiton of the abuse the had suffered from him iu consequence.and of her heart-broken condition- She seemed to allude to the whole thing as to something al ready generally known, or known in a considerable circle, and impossible to be concealed "aud attributed the long ab?ence of s. Davis from the house to her knowledge of the facts She was, as she stated at the time recovering from the effects of a mis carriage of a child of six mouths. Tbe miscarriage was induced by the ill-treatment of Mr. Tiiton in his raue at tbe discovery of her criminal intimacy- with Mr. Beecher, and, as he believed, the great probability, that she was enciente by Mr. Beecher instead of himself. Mrs. Tiiton confessed to Mrs. Davis the intimacy with Mr. Beecher, and that it bad been of years' standing. She also said tbat she had loved Mr. Beechor before she married Mr. Tiiton, and that now the burden of her sorrow was greatly augmented by the knowledge

that

Mr. Beecher was. untrue to her. She had not only to endure tbo rupture with her husband, hut also the certainty tbat, notwithstanding his repeated assurance of his taitnfulncss to her, he had recently bad illicit intercourse under most extraordinary circutn stances, with another person. Said Mrs. Davis: 'I came away from th* bonse, 1113' soul bowed down with grief at tho heart-broken condition of tbat poor woman, and 1 f»*it that I ought not to leave Brooklyn until I had stripped the mask from that infamous, hypocritical scoundrel, Beecher.' In May after returning home, Mrs. Davis wrote me a letter, from which I will re.«d a paragraph to shew tbat we conversed on this subject. "EXTRACT FROM A LKTTEB.'DEAR VICTORIA: I thought of you half of last night, dreamed of you, and praved for you. •'"•I believe you are raised up of God to do a wonderful w.ork, and I believe that you will unmask the hypocrisy of a class that none others dare touch. God help yon and save you. The more I think of that mass of Beecher corrup tion the more I desire its opening. 'Ever yours, lovingly, 'PAULINA WRIGHT DAVIS. 'PROVIDENCE, R. I.. May 1871.'"

Reporter—"Did you inform Mrs. Da vis of your intention to expose this matter, as she intimates in this letter?

Mrs. Woodhull—"I said in effect to her that the matter wonld become pub lie, and that I felt that 1 should be in strumental in making it so. Bnt waa not decided about the course I sbouldH pursue. I next beard tbe whole story from Mrs. Elizabeth Cady Stanton."

Reporter—"Indeed! Is Mrs. Stanton also mixed up in tbis affaii? Does she kuow the facts? How could the mat ter have been kept so long quiet when so many people are cognizant of it?

Mrs. Woodhull—"The existence of tbe skeleton in the closet may be very widely known, and many people may have tke keyto tbe Mrrible secret, bnt

still hesitatejo Open tbe door for the reat ouwMHKwdrld to gaze in upon it. 'his grand #oman dia indeed know tbe sMte tacts, and' from Mr. Tiiton bimself. I shall never forget the occasion of her first rehearsal of it to me at my residence, 15 East Thirty-eighth street, in a visit made to me during the ApollO Hall contention, in May, 1871. It seems .that Mr. Tiiton, in agony at what be deemed his wife's perfidy and bis paster's''treachery, retreated to

Mrs.

Stanton's residence at Tenafly, where he detailed to ber the entire story. Said Mrs. Stanton: *1 never saw such a manifestation of mental agony. He raved and tore bis hair, and seemed upon tbe very verge of insanity. 'Oh!' said he, 'that that damned lecherous scoundrel should have defiled my bed for ten years, and at tbe same time have professed to be my best friend! Had he come like a man to me and confessed his guilt, I could, perhaps, have endured it, but to have bim creep like a snake into my house, leaving bis pollution behind bim, and I so blind as not to see, and esteeming him all tbe while as a saint—oh! it is too much. And when I think how for years she, upon whom I had bestowed all my heart's lovoi could have lied and deceived me so, I lose all faith in humanity. I do not believe thdre is any honor, any truth left in anybody in tbe world.' Mrs Stanton continued and repeated to me the sad story, which it is Unnecessary to recite, as 1 prefer giving it as Mr. Tiiton bimself told it me, subsequently, with his own lips."

Reporter—"It is possible that Mr. Tiiton confided this story to you It seems too monstrous to be believed

Mrs. Wocdbull—"He certainly did. And what is more. I am persuaded that in his inmost mind he will not be otherwise than glad when the skeleton in his closet is revealed to the world, if thereby tbe abuses which lurk like vipers under tbe cloak of social conservatism nay be exposed and the causes removed. Mr. Tiiton lookB deeper into the soul of things than most men, and is braver than most."

Reporter—"How did your acquaintance with Mr. Tiiton begin?" Mrs. Woodhull—Upon the information received from Mrs. Davis and Mrs. Stanton I based what I said in the Weekly, and in the letters in the Times and World, referring to the matter, I was nearly determined though still not quite so—tbat what I, equally with those who gave me the information, believed, but for tbe wholly other reasons, to be a most important social circumstance, should be exposed, my reasons being, as 1 have explained to you, not those of the world, and I took that method to cause inquiry and create agitation regarding it. The day that the letter appeared in the World Mr. Tiiton came to my office, No. 44 Broad street, and showing me the letter, asked: 'Whom do you mean by that?' 'Mr. Tiiton,' said I, 'I mean you and Mr. Beecher.' I then told him what I knew, what I thought of it, and tbat I felt that I had a mission to brinf it to the knowledge of the world, and that I bad nearlv determined to do so, I said to him much else on the subject: and he said: 'Mrs. Woodhull, you are tbe first person I have ever met who has dared, or else who could, tell the truth.' He acknowledged that the facts, as I had heard them, were true, but declared that I did not yet know the extent of the depravity of that man—meaning Mr. Beecher. 'But, said he,' do not take any steps now have carried my heart as a stone in my breast for months, for tbe sake of

Elizabeth, my wife, who is broken hearted as I am. I have had courage to endure rather than to add more to hor weight of sorrow. For her sake I have allowod tbat rascal to go un scathed. I have curbed my feelings when every impulse urgod me to throttle and stranclo him. Let mo take you over to Elizabeth, and you will find ber in no condition to be dragged before tho public and I know you will have compassion ou her.' And I went and saw her, and I agreod with him on the propriety of delay."

Reporter—"Was it during this interview that Mr. Tiiton explained to you all tbat you know of the matter?"

Mrs. Woodhull—^"On, no. His revelations were made subsequently .at sundry times, and during months of friendly intercourse, as occasion brought the subject up. I will, however, condense his statements to me, and state the facts as he related them, as consecutively as possible. I kept notes of the conversation as they occurred from time to time, but tbe matter is so much impressed on my mind that I have no hesitation in relating them from memory."

Reporter—"Do you not fear that by taking tho responsibility of this expose you may involve yourself in trouble? Even if all you relate be true, may not thoSe involved deny in toto, even tbe FONT OF HNLI» ments?"

Mrs. Woodhull—"I do not fear anything of the sort. I know tbis thing must come out, and tbe statement of the plain ungarnisbed trnth will outweigh all tbe perjuries that can be invented, if it come to pass. I have been charged with attempts at blackmailing, but I toll you, sir, there is not money enough in these two cities, to purchase my silence iu this matter. I believe it is my duty and my mission to carry the torch to light up and destroy tho heap of rottennes, which, in the name ot religion, marital sanctity, and social purity, now passes as the social system. I know thero are other churches just as false, other pastors just as recreant to their professed ideas of morality—by their immorality you know I mean their hypocrisy. I am glad that just this one case comes to me to be exposed. This is a great congregation. He is a most eminent man. When a beacon is fired OH tbe mountain the little hills are lighted up. This exposition will send inquisition through all the churches, and what is termed conservative society."

Reporter—"You speak like some wieid prophetess, madam." Mrs. Woodhull—"I am a prophetess —I am an evangel—I am a Saviour, if you would but see it but I too come not to bring peace but a sword."

Mrs. Woodhull then resumed, saying "Mr. Tiltou first began to have suspicions of Mr. Beecher on his own return from a long lecturing tour through the West. He questioned bis little daughter, privately, in his study regarding what had transpired in his absence. 'The tale of iniquitous horror that was revealed to me was,' he Baid, 'enough to turn the heart of a stranger to stone, to say nothing of a husband and father.' It was not tho fact of the intimacy alone, but in addition to that, the terrible orgies—so he said—ot which his house had been made tbe scene, and the boldness with which matters bad been carried on in

These

the presence of-his children. 'Tbes things drove mo mad,'said he,'and went to Elizabeth and confronted ber with tbe obiid and the tmning tale she had told me. My wife did hot deny the charge nor attempt any palliation, She was then encicnte, and I felt sure tbat the child would not be my child. I stripped the wedding ring Iropo her finger.* I tore the picture of Mr. Beecher irom my wall and stamped it in pieces. Indeed I do not know what I did not do. I only look back to it as a time too horrible to retain any exact remembrance of. She miscarried the child and it was buried. For two weeks, night and day, I might have been found walking to aud from that grave, in a slate bordering on distraction. I could not leal ze tbe fact that I was what I was. I stamped tbe ring with which we bad plighted our troth deep into the soil that covered tbe fruit of my wife's infidelity. I had friends, many and firm aud good, but I could not go to them with tbis grief, and I suppose I should have remained silent tbrongh life had not an occasion arisen which demanded that I seek counsel. Mr. Btecber learned that 1 bad discovered the tact, and what bad transpired between Elizibeth and myself, and when I was absent he called at my bouse and compelled or induced bis victim to sign a statement he had prepared, declaring that so far as he, Mr. Beecher, was concerned, tbere was no truth in my charges, and tbat there bad never been any criminal intimacy between them. Upon learning this, as I did, I felt, of course, again outraged and could endure.secrecy no longer. I had one friend who was like a brother, Mr. Frank Mouiton. 1 went to bim and slated tbe case fully. We were both members of Flymoeth Church. My friend took a pistol, went to Mr. Beecber aud demanded the letter of Mrs. Tiiton, under penalty of instant death."

Mrs. Woodhnll here remarked that Mr. Mouiton bad himself, also since, described to ber tbis interview, witb all the piteous and abject bcseecbing of Mr. Beecher not to be exposed to tho public. "Mr. Mouiton obtained the letter, said Mrs. W., "and told roe that he had it in his safe, where he shoold keep it nntil required for further use." After tbis. Mr. Tilton's bonse was no bouse for biin, and he seldom slept or eat tbere, but frequented tbe house of his friend Mouiton, who sympathized deeply with bim. Bfrs. Tiiton was

also absent days at a time, and, as Mr. Tiiton informed me, seemed bent on destroying Iter life. I went, as I have said, to see her, and found ber indeed, a wretched wreck of a woman, whose troubles were greater than she could bear. She made no secrets of the facts before me. Mr. Beecher's selfish, cowardly cruelty in endeavoring to shield himself and create public opinion against Mr. Tiiton, added poignancy to her anxieties. She seemed indifferent as to what should become of herself, but labored under fear tbat murder might be done on her account.

This was the condition of afiairs at the time that Mr. Tiiton came to me. I attempted to show bim tbe true solution of the imbroglio, and the folly it was for a man like him, a representative man of the ideas of tbe future, to stand whining over inevitable events connected with tbis transition age and the social revolution ot which we are in the midst. I told bim tbat tbe fault and tbe wrong were neither in Mr. Beecher, nor in Mrs. Tiiton, nor in himself but that it was in the false social institutions under which we still live, while tbe more advanced men and women of tbe world have outgrown them in spirit and that, practically, everybody is livings false life, by professing a conformity which they do not feel and do not live, and which they can not feel and live any more than the grown boy can reenter the clothes of bis early childhood. I recalled to his attention splendid passages of his own rhetoric, in wbinh he had unconsciously justified all the freedom that he was now condemning. when it came home to bis door, and endeavoring, in the spirit of a tvrant, to repress. "I ridiculed the maudliu sentiment and mock heroics and 'dreadful suzz' he was exhibiting over an event tbo most natural in the world, and tbe most intrinsically innocent having in it not a bit more of real criminality than tho awful wickedness of 'negro stealing' formerly eharged, in perfect good faith, by the slaveholders, on every one who helped the escape of a slave. I assumed at once, ana got a sufficient admission, as I always do iu Buch oases, that he was not exactly a vestal virgin himself that his real life was something very different from the awful 'virtue' he was preaching, especially for women, as if women could 'sin'in the matter without men, and men without women, and which, be pretended, even to himself, to believe in the face and eyes of his owu life, and the lives of nearly all the greatest and best men and women that he knew that the 'dredful BUZZ' was merely bogus sentimentality, pumped in his imagination, because our sickly religious literature, and Sunday school morality, and pulpit pharaseeism had humbugged him all his lite into the belief that he ought to feel and act in this harlequin and absurd way on such an occasion—that, in a word, neither

Mr. Beecher nor Mrs. Tiiton had dono any wrong, but that it was be who was playing the part of a fool and a tyrantthat it waB he and the ficticious or manufactured public opinion back of him, that was wrong that this baby ish stage-acting wero the real absurdi ty and disgrace—tho unmanly part of tbe whole transaction, and that we on ly needed another Cervantes to satir ize such stuff as it deserves to squelch it instantly and forever. I tried to show him that a true manliness would pro tect, and love to protect would glory in protecting the absolute freedom of the woman who was loved, whether called wife, mistress, or by any other name, and thnt the true sense of honor in the fnture will be, not to know even what relations our. lovers have witb any and all other persons than ourselves—as true courtesy never seeks to spy over or to pry into other people's private affairs. "I believe I succeeded in pointing out to him that his own life was essentially no better than Mr. Beecher's, and tbat ho stood in no position to throw tho first stone at Mrs. Tiiton or her reverend paramour. I showed him again and again that the wrong point, and tho radically wrong thing, if not, indeed the only wrong thing in tbe matter, was the idea of ownership in human beings, which was essentially the same in tbe two institutions of slavery and marriage. Mrs.Tiltou had in turn grown increasedly unhappy when she found that Mr. Beecher had turned a part of bis exuberant affections upon some other object. There was in her, therefore, the same sentiment of tbo real slaveholder. Let it be once understood that whosoever is true to himself or herself is theroby, and necessarily, true to all others, aud the whole social question will be solved. The barter and sale of wives stands on the same moral footing as tbe barter and sale of slaves. The God-implanted human affections cannot, and will not, be any longer subordinated to these external legal restrictions and conventional engagements. Every human boing belongs to himself or herself by a higher title than any which, by.surrender* ®r mi 1 nuftoiiiouta or pfo'miaes, be or she can confer upon any human being. Self-ownership is inalienable. These truths are the latest and greatest discoveries in trne science. "Perhaps Mr. Beecher knows and feels all this, and if so, in that knowledge consists his sole and bis real justification only the world around him has not yet grown to it institutions are not yet adapted to it and he is not brave enough to bear his open testimony to the truth he knows. "All this I said to Mr. Tiiton and I urged upon bim to make this providential circumstance in bis life the occasion upon which be should, himself, come forward to the front, and stand with the trae champions of social freedom."

Reporter—"Then Mr. Tiiton became, as it were, your pupil, and you instructed bim in your theories."

Mrs. Woodhull—"Yes, I suppose that is a correct statement and the verification of in views, springing up before my eyes upon this occasion, out of tho very midst of religious and moral prejudices, was, I assure you, an interesting study for me, and a profound corroboration of the unrighteousness of what you calljmy theories.' Mr. Tilton's conduct toward Mr. Beecher and toward his wife began from tbat time to be so maguanimous and grand—by which I mean simply just and right— so unlike that which most other men's would have been, that it stamped him, in my mind, as one of the noblest souls that lived, and one capable of playing a great role in tbe social revolution, which is so rapidly progressing.

J. never could, however, induce bim •to stand wholly and unreservedly, and on principle, upon the free-love platform and I always, therefore, feared that he might for a time vacillate or go back. But be opened his bouse to Mr. Beecher, saying to him in tbe presence of Mrs. Tiiton: 'You love each oth« er. Mr. Beecher this is a distressed woman, if "it be in your power to alleviate her condition and make ber life less a bnrden than it now is, be yours the part to do it. You have nothing to fear from me.' From that time Mr. Beecher was,so to speak, tbe slave of Mr. Tiiton and Mr. Mouiton. He consulted them in every matter of any importance. It was at tbis time that Mr. Tiiton introduced Mr. Beecher to me, and I met bim frequently both at Mr. Tilton's and Mr. Moulton'B. We discussed tbe social problem freely in all its varied bearings, and I found tbat Mr. Beecber agreed with nearly all my views upon the question."

Reporter—"Do you mean to say tbat Mr. Beecher disapproves of tbe present marriage sys'.em?"

Mrs. Woodhull—I mean to say just this—tbat Mr. Beecher told mo that marriage is the grave of love, and that be never married a couple that be did not feel condemned."

Reporter—What excuse did Mr. Beecher give for not avowing these sentiments publicly?"'

Mrfu Woodhull—"Oh, the moral coward's inevitable excuse—tbat of inexpediency. He said ho was twenty years ahead of bis cburch tbat be preached the imth just as fast as he thought bis people could bear it. I said to biui. Then, Mr. Beecher. you are defrauding yonr people. You con­

fess

that yon do not preach tbe trntb as you know it, while tbey pay tor and persuade themselves you are giving tbem your best thought.' Hv Replied 'I know tbat our whole social system is corrupt. I know tbat marriage, as it exists to-day, is the curse of society. We shall never have abetter state until children are begotten and bred on tbe scientific plan. Stirpiculture is what we need.' 'Then,' said I, 'Mr. Beecher, why do you not go into yonr nulpit and preach that science 'He replied 'If I were to do so I sbonld preach to empty .seats. It would bo the ruin of my church.' 'Then,' said I, 'you are as big a fraud as anytimeserving preacher, and I now believe you are all frauds. I gave you credit for ignorant honesty, but I find yon all alike—all trying to hide, or afraid to speak,tbo truth. A sorry pass has this Christian country come to, paying 40,000 ministers to lie to it from Sunday to Sunday, to bide from tbem the trentb tbat hat been given Ihein to promulgate,

bim a man who would dare a good deal for the truth, and that, having lived the life he bad, and entertaining tbe private convictions ho did, I could perlapS persuade him that it was his true jlicy tocome out and openly avow iles, and boa thorough con-

jolicytooome out and openly avow lis principles, and boa thorough consistent radical, and thus justify his life in some measure, if not wholly, to the public."

Reporter—"Was Mr. Beecher aware that yon knew of bis relation to Mrs. Tiiton

Mrs. Woodhnll—"Of course he was. It was because tbat I know of them that be first consented to meet me. He could never receive me nntil he knew that I was aware of the real character he wore under t^e mask of his reputation. Is it not remarkable how a little knowledge of this sort brings down the most top-lofty from the stilts on which they lift themselves above the common level

Reporter—"Do you still regard Mr. Beecher as a moral coward Mrs. Woodhull—"I have found him destitute of moral courage enough to meet this tremendous demand upon him. In minor things, I know that he has manifested courage. He could not be induced to take the bold step I demanded of him, simply for tho sako of truth and righteousness. I did not entirely despair of him until about a year ago. I was then contemplating my Steinway Hall speech on Social Freodom, and prepared it in the hope of boing able to persuade Mr. Beecher to preside for me, and thus make away for himself into a consistent life on the radical platforrti. I mado my speech as soft as I conscientiously could. I toned it down in order that it might not frighten him. When it was in typo, I went to his study and gave him a copy^and asked him to readlt carefully and give me his candid opinion concern ing it. Meantime I had told Mr. Tiiton and Mr. Mouiton that I was going to ask Mr. Beecher to preside, and the agreed to press the matter with him. explained to him that the only safety he had was in coming out as soon as possible an advocate of social freedom, and thus palliate, if he could not comjlotely justify, his practices, by foundng them on principle, I told them that this introduction of me would bridge the way. Both tho gentlemen agreed w'.th me iu this view, and I was for a time almost sure that my desire woud be accomplished. A few days before tbe lecture, I sent a noto to Mr.

Beecher asking him to preside for me Tbis alarmed him. He went with it to Messrs. Tiiton and Mouiton, asking advioe. They gave it in the affirma tive, tolling him they considered it eminently fitting that he shou)d pursue the course indicated by me as his only safety but it was not urged in such a way as to indicate that tbey had known the request was to have* been made. Matters remained undecided until tho day of the lecture, when I went over to press Mr. Beecher to a decision. I had then along private Interview with hfm, urging all the argumonts I could to induce bim to consent, lie said be agreed perfectly with what I was going to say, but that be could not stand on tbe platform ot Steinway Hall and introduce me. He said, 'I should sink through the floor. I am a moral coward on this subject, and I know it, and

I am not fit to stand by you, who go there to speak what yoti know to be the truth I should stand there allying lie.' He got upon tho sofa on his knees beside me, and taking my face between bis hands, while tho tears streamed down his cheeks, begged me to let bim off. Becoming thoroug' disgusted with what seemed pusllanimity, I left tho room under the control of a feeling of contempt for the man, and reported to my friends what ho had said. Tbey then took mo again with tbem and agreed to persuade him. Mr. Tiiton said to him 'Mr. Beecher, some day yuo have got to fall go and introduco this woman aud win the radicals of the country, and it will break your fall.' 'Do you think,' said Bepclier, 'that this thing will come out to tho world?' Mr. Tiiton replied: 'Notking is more certain in earth or Heaven, Mr. Beecher and this may bo your last chance to savo yourself from complete ruin.'

Mr. Beecher replied: 'I can never endure such a terroy. Oh! If It must come, let me know of It twenty-four hours in advance, that I may take my own life I., cannot, cannot face this tliins 1' "Thoroughly out of pationce, I turned on my heel and said: 'Mr. Beecher, if I am compelled to go upon that platform alone. I shall bogin by tolling the audionce why I am alone, and why you are not with me,' and I again left the room. I afterwards learned that Mr. Beecher, frlglltenod at what I had said, promised, before parting with Mr. Tiiton, that he would preside if he could brin# his courage up to the terrible ordeal. "It was four minutes of the time lor mo to go forward to the platform at Steinway Hall whon Mr. Tiiton and Mr. Manlton oante into tbo ante-room asking for Mr. Beecher. When I told them he baa not como they expressed astonisbmont. I told them I should faithfully keep my word, let the consequences be what tbey might. At that moment word was sont me that there was an organized attempt to break up the meeting, and that ireats were being made against my life if I dared to speak what it was understood I intended to speak. Mr. Tiiton then insisted on going on the platform witb me and presiding, to which I finally agreed, and that I should not at tbat time mention Mr. Beecher. I shall never forget the brave words he uttered in Introducing1- me. Tbey had a magic influence on the audience, and drew the sting of those who intended to harm me. However much Mr. Tilton may have since regretted his course regarding me, and whatever be may say about it, I shall always admire the moral courage tbat enabled him to staud with me on that platform, and face that, in part, defiant audience. It is hard to bear the criticism of vulgar minds, who can see in social freedom nothing but licentiousness arid debauchery, and tbe inevitable misrepresentation of the entire press, which is as perfectly subsidized against reason ana common sense, when social subjects aro discussed, as is the religious press when any other science Is discussed which is supposed to militate against the Bible as tbe direct word of Oodtoman. Tbo editors are equally bigots, or else as dishonest an the clergy. The night-mare of a public opinion, which they aro still professionally engaged in making, enslaves and condemns them both."

Mrs. Woodhull concluded by saying that since her Steinway Hall speech she had surrendered all hope of easing tbo fall ot Mr. Beocher, that she (bad not attempted,to see him, and had not in fact seen bim. She only added one other fact, which was, that Mr. Beecher endeavored to induce Mr. Tiiton to withdraw from his membership in Plymouth Church, to lea*„'e him, Mr. Beecher free from the embarassmentof bis presence there and tbat Mr. Tiiton had indignantly rejected tho proposition, determined to bold tbe position with a view to such contingencies as might subsequently occur.

So much lor tbe interviewing which was to have been published somo months ago but when it failed or was suppressed, I was still so far undecided tbat 1 took no steps in tbe matter, and bad no definite plan for the future in respect to it, until the events as I have recited them which occurred at Boston. Since then I have not deubted that I must make up my mind definitely to act aggressively in this matter, and to use the facts in my knowledge to compel a more wide-spread discussion of tbe social question. I take the step deliberately, as an agitator and Bocial revolutionist, which is my profession. I commit no breach of confidence, as no confidences have been made to mo, except as I have compelled tbem, with a full knowledge that I was endeavoring to induce or to force tbe parties to come to tbe front along witb me in tbe announcement and advocacy of the principles of social revolution. Messrs. Beecber and Tiiton, and other half-way reformers, are to me, like tbe border States in tbe great reDollion. Tbey are liable to fall, with the weight of their influence, on either side iu tbe contest, and I hold it to be legitimate generalship to compel tbem to declare on the side of truth and progress.

My position is justly analagous witb that of warefare. The public, Mr. Beecber included, would gladly crush me if tbey could—will do so if they can—to prevent me from forcing on them considerations of the utmost importance. My mission is, on tbe other hand, to utter tbe unpopular truth, and make it efficient by whatsoever legitimate means and means are legitimate as a|war measure,which would be highly reprehensible iu a state of peace. I believe, as tbo law of peace, in the right of privacy, in tbe sanctity of individual relations. It is nobody's business but their own, in the absolute view, what Mr. Beecher aud Mrs. Tiiton have done, or may choose at any time to do, as between themselves. And the world needs, too, to be taught just that lesson. I am champion of that right of privacy aud of individual sovereignty. But, one side of the case. I the world aeed^ Mr.

Beecher's powerful championship of this very right. The world is on the veffy crisis of its final fight for liberty. The victory may fall on the' wrong side, and his own liberty or mine, and the world's be again crushed out, or repressed for another century for the want of fidelity in him to the new truth. It is not, therefore, Mr. Beecber as the individual that I pursue, but Mr. Beeoher as the representative man: Mr. Beecher as a power in the world and^ Mr. Beecher as my auxiliary iu a*

1

great war for freedom, or Mr. Beech*** er as a violent enemy and a powerful^ hindrance to all that I am bent oo|| accomplishing. Jr'

To Mr. Beecher, as the individual*-^ citizen, I tender, therefore, my bumbley, meaning and deeply feeling^mu what I say, for tbis or any interference .r' on my part, with his pritate conduct.' hold that Mr. Tiiton himself, and: that Mrs. Beecher herself, have no more right to inquire or to know, or to^ spy over, with a view to knowing, what has transpired between Mr." Beecher and Mrs. Tiiton, than tbey/. have to know what I eat for breakfast, or where I shall spend my next evening and that Mr. Beecher's congregation and the publio at large have justas little right to know or inquire. hold that the so-called morality of society is a complicated mass of sheer impertinence, and a scandal on tho civilization of tbis advanced century, that, the system of social espionage under which we live is damnable, and thatthe very first axiom of atrue morality, is for the people to mind their own business, and learn to respect, religiouslv, the social freedom and sacred social privacy of all othors but it was •, tho paradox of Christ, that as the Prince of Peace, he still brought on earth, not peace but a sword. It is tbe paradox of life that, in order to havo peace, wo must first have war and it ia tbe paradox of my position that, believing in tho right of privacy and in the perfect right of Mr. Beecher socially, morally and divinely to have sought the embraces of Mrs. Tiiton or any other woman or women whom be loved and who loved him, and being promulgator and a champion of those very rights, 1 still invade the moBt secret and saored affairs of hia life, and drag them to the light and expose him to tbe opprobrium and villificatlon of the publio. I do again, and with deep sincerity, ask bis forgiveness But the case Is exceptional, aud what I do I do for a great purpose. Tho social world is in the very agony of its new birth, or, to rosumo the warlike simllo, the leaders of progress aro in the very act of storming the last fortress of bigotry and error. Somebody must be burled forward iuto tbe gap.

I have the power, I think, to compel Mr. Beecher to go forward and to do the duty for humanity from which lie shrinks and I should, myself, be false to the truth if I were to shrink from compelling liira. Whether he sinks or swims iu the fiery trial, the agitation by which truth Is envolved will have been promoted. And I bo« lieve that he will uot only survive, but that when forced to the encounter ho will rise to the full height of the great enterprise, and will astound aud convince the world of tho new gospel of freedom, and by tho depth ot liis experiences and the force of his argument.

The wotld, it seems, will never learu not to crucify it Chrlsts, and not to compel the retraction of its Galileos. Mr. Beecher lies lacked the courage to be a martyr, but like Galileo, while retracting, or concealing and evnding, he has known in bis heart that the world stilt movcn and I venture to prophesy, as I have indeed full faith, that he aud tho other parties to this social drama will yet live to be overwhelmed with gratitude to me for hav.ingcompelled them to this publicity. The age Is pregnant with great events, and (his may be the very one which shall be, as it were, (he crack of doom to our old and worn out, false aud hypocritical" social institutions. When the few first waves of public indignation shall havo broken over him, when the nine days wonder and the astonished clamor of Mrs. Grundy shall have done their worst, and when tho pious ejaculations of the sanctimonious sluill have been expended, and he finds that he still lives, and that that there aro brave souls who stand by him, he will, I believe, rise In his power and utter the whole truth. I believe I see clearly and prophetically for ltim in the future a work a hundred times greater than all he has accomplished in the past. I believe, as I have said, a wise Providence, or as I term It, and believe it to be, the conscious and well-calcula-ted interference of tbe spirit world, these very has forecast and irt great social revolution

I preparec

events as a

art or the drama of this revolution. Of all the

centers of influence on the great broad planet, the destiny that shapes our ends, bent on breakiug up an old civilization and ushering iu new one, could have found no such spot for Its vantage ground as Plymouth Church, uo such man for the hero 6f the plot as its reverend pastor, and, it may be, no such heroine as the g-entle cultured, and, perhaps, hereafter to bo the sainted wife of Plymouth Church's most distinguished layman. Indeed, I think that Mrs. Tiiton has had, at least at times, a clearer intuition guiding ber, a better sense ot right and more courage than her revereud lover for, on oue occassion, Mr. Tiiton told me that he took homo to her oue of my threatening uotices, and told her tbat that meant her and Mr. Beccber, aud that the exposure must aud would come and he added thatsbecalmly replied "I am prepared for it. If tbe new social gospel must have its martyrs, and I must be one of them, I am prepared for It."

In conclusion, let us agaiu consider for a moment, the right and the wrong of this whole transaction.. Let us see whether the wroug is not. on the side where the public puts the right, and the right on tbe side where the public puta the wronj?. The immense physical potency of Mr. Beecber, and the indomitable urgency of bis great nature for the intimacy and the embraces of tbe noble and cultured women about him, instead of being a bad thing as the world thinks, or thinks that it thinks, or professes to think that it thinks, is one of the noblest and grandest of the endowments of this truly great and representative man. Tbe amative impulse is the physiological basil of character. It is this which emanates zest and magnetic power to his whole audience through tbe organism of the great preacher. Plymouth Church has lived and fed, and the healthy vigor of public opinion for the last quarter of a century, has been augmented and strengthened from the physical amativeness of Henry Ward Beecher. The scientific world know the physiological facts of this nature, but they have waited for a weak woman to have tbe moral courage to tell tbe world such truths. Passional starvation, enforced on such a nature,, so richly endowed, by the ignorance and prejudice of the past, is a horrid cruelty. The bigoted public, to which the great preacher ministered, while literally eating and drinking of his flesh and blood, condemned him, iu their ignorance, to live without food. Every great man of Mr. Beecher's type has had, in tbe past, and will ever have, the need for, and the' right to, the loving manifestations ol many women, and when the public graduates out of tbe ignorance anll prejudice of its childhood, it will recognize this necessity and its owu past injustice. Mr. Beecher's grand and amative nature is not, then, the bad element in the whole matter, but intrinsically a good thiug, and one of God's best gifts to the world. 80 again, the tender, loving, womanly concessiveness of Mrs. Tiiton, her susceptibility to tbe charm of the great preacher's magnetism, her love of loving and of being loved, none of these were the bad thing* which the world thinks them, or thinks that it thinks tbem, or professes to think that it thinks tbem to be. On the contrary, (hey are ail of them the best thiug—the best and most beautiful of things, the lovliest and most divine of things which belong to the patrimony 01 mankind.

So again, it was not (he comiug to-, getherof these two lovin? natures, in tbe most intimate embrace, nor was it that nature blessed that embrace with tbe natural fruits of love which was the bad element in this whole 'rhnw

Wtt9 tut? wau *A transaction. They, on the