Terre Haute Weekly Gazette, Volume 6, Number 8, Terre Haute, Vigo County, 20 August 1874 — Page 2

^crt[e Jjmtq (§azcttc.

"l LARGEST COUNTRY CIRCULATION Thursday, August 13,1874.

The DAILY GAZETTE IS published every afternoon, except Sunday, and sold by the carriers at 25c per fortnight. By mail 96. per year 93.00 lor 0 months for 8 raontbs, Tbe WEEKLY OAZBTTC is issued every

Thursday, and contains all the bent matter of the six dally Issues. The WKEKLY OAZKTTB is tbe largest paper printed in Terre Haute, an IH sold lor: Ono copy, per year, •1.00 six months,75cj three months, 40«3. All sabrcripiionsmust be paid for in advance. The paper will, invariably be discontinued at expiration of time. a Address all letters,

WM.

C.

BALL

& CO.,

GAZETTE, Terre Haute, Ind.

IF Goldsmith Maid pleases she may lot up now. Two fourteen and three-quarters is fast enough to rest on. She is queen of a turf of which there is no king, though Red Cloud is a pretty lively prince, and bids fair to succeed to the crown.

THERE is every reason to believe that the convention which will meet in Illinois and adopt the platform at tbe head of this column, will be grand success. The parties of tbe future must divide on this line.

MOULTON left Brooklyn on Satur day for the North. On Sunday he was'in Portland, Maine. He is supposed to be en route for the North Pole. The temperate zone is too hot

for blm. ^—mmmmmmmmmmm BEECHEB has thrown down the gauntlet to Tilton and Moulton and challenged them to work their worst Now, let Moulton cut the strings of his black letter-bag, of which he has vaunted so much, and the contents of which have seemed so much big", ger than they in all probability really are, as a distant mountain through the mists and fog grows greater on the eye. Moulton must tell all he knows. He has had bis brief day like many another dog, at strutting around in tbe eyes of the public, emitting vague and mys terious mutterings, about what things he might disclose if he only had a mind, and how the world would be shocked if he should expose to view sad secrets concerning public person ages, he has locked in his bosom The world is tired of having its wiiole Social fabric revolve around and depend upon this fellow Moulton. If, by the dis closure of certain awful and guilty secrets now locked in his breats, he can blow into atoms tbe character of Beecher, and destroy the world faith in moralsaud personal purity,In heaven's name let him do his work quickly. To live under is worse than to be killed by the sword of Damocles

But if this man Moulton is a mere braggart, who by knowing looks and mysterious mutterings, aims to persuade the world that it is wholy through liis magnamity that mundane

matters

e*l3t, It is high time

,•»«fttiat he was exposed. If he has anythig to say, he must say it at once, or judgement against him must go by default. «. As to Tilton, he has a herculeau task before him not in persuading people that Beecher was guilty of a criminal liason with his wife—for that, few if any now believe, since

Beecher's denial—but in convincing .the world that he believed him guilty "of auch criminal intercourse. Just at present the current of belief sets in tbe direction of conviction that Tilton never himself thought that Mr.

Beecher had undermined his wife's virtue indeed, that lie knew he had not, and that all this so-Btyled exposure of his is merely au attempt to drag into the mire with him&Jfd~'ct whose code of moraJaere

both lofty and ig

stant repr'""

CJNPKSS active steps are taken by Congresa to interfere with,audoppose the steady ilow of girls and gold from this country, we very much fear that with so heavy 'a balance of trade against us we will never be able to return to speoio payments.

There, for example, was NelTie Qrant.the giddy gosliug of our gander President, who married young Sartoris. She took a cool hundred thousand dollars f.om our shores to bustling Britain. And it was not in national bank notes, nor yet in greenbacks for the stupid Englishman will not take our dishonored promises to pay, even when tendered him by the fair hand of one whom the London Times declares to be the first lady in America, meaning there by, of course, our Nellie. The money Nellie took was mostly specie, and the remainder was gold-bearing interest bonds. How much her father, our President, will give her annually out of his hard-earned small salary we do not know, though, of course, he will not be niggardly with the "first lady" in America, aud she his daughter. But it was not so much of Nellie—fascinating subject though she is—we wished to write, as of another American girl that has captured a British sprig of nobility. Perhaps, in view of the character of the transaction, we should say bought, for about the marriage settlement which tbe noble Briton compelled his father-in-law to make there is a flavor of the shambles. Be it known, then, that in consideration of an annuity of $10,000 gold aud $125,000 to be paid to bioi in specie in the event ot his wife

dying

without is­

sue and of $250,000 in specie to bis heirs, Henry Spencer Churchill alias Lord Randolph has agreed to take unto him tor a wife, Matilda Jane, eldest aud only daughter of Leonard and Bridget Jerome. Tlie consideration moving Matilda to this marriage, is the possibility, in the event of certain deaths, that she may become the Duchess of Marlborough. This possibility would sustain and sooth Americans for the shipment of specie from our chores, though its tendeucy. .v is to everlastingly uusettle the balance of trade, aud postpone indefinitely the return to specie payments. In the meantime, however, while Mrs. Lord Randolph Henry

Speucer Churchill is praying for the death of those who stand between her and tbe Duchy of Marlborough, it would be pleasant to have a few kings and czars marry some of our American girls and settle down

TILT05'S THlilDESBOLT.

I a

Moulton Confirms Those Terrible Tell-Tale Letters,

.jo-

But he Persistently Eefusea to Open the Black Bag and A Tell All He Knows. I

NOT EQUAL TO THE EMERGENCY.

Mr. Beecher's Statement.

in

this country friendly and "social like," and draw ou the Bank of Eugland, or of Russia, for a few million

?'erliaps,

ounds to sustain their housekeeping, iu this happy land could be found some enterprising young man t?Whp would be willing to wed a princess or a queen, if she were heavily enough dowered. Col. Fred Grant is ^worthy of any princess, aud an —American Congress would gladly vote him an aunuiiy befitting his high rank and the distinguished fortunes of bis father.

He Makes a Frantic Endeavor to Explain Away Those Terrible Letters.

HE WROTE THEM TO SOOTHE THEODORE,

Who Was a Bad Man, and Hard to Soothe.

Moulton Wanted to "Shake" Beecher Which Almost Killed Him, and Then He Wrote the

'it# w®

Apology.

STILL HE TRUSTED MUTUAL FRIEND.

As Strong a Statement ou the Situation as Could be Made Under the Circumstances.

CHALLENGE TO MOIJL TON OB ANY OTHER MAN.

Will the Mutual Open ihe Big Black Bag and Let tbe Cat Clear Out

IF NOT HE IS A DEAD DUCK.

CiENTLEMEN OF THE COMMITTEE:

When

I

was iast before you

I

I

stated that

would at your request produce a statement of facts as liad come to my knowledge on the subject of your inquiry, I fully intended so to do, and have prepared my statement of facts as sustained oy documents and made an^ exhibition of all papers that have come in any way into my possession bearing on the controversy between the parties. That statement must of course bear with more or less

force

upon one or the other of them.

On mature reflection, aided by the advice of my most valued friends, I have reconldeted that determination and am obliged to say to you that I feel compelled from a sense of duty to the parties, and to my relation to their controversy, and to myself, neither to make the statement nor produce the documents. Wl.en

I

first

became a party to the unhappy controversy between Beecher and Tilton I had no personal knowledge nor any document in my possession which would^ affect either.' Everything lhat

I

tarily take|»rn gt

a

con-

myself and no other

I

know^is fact,

or have received of the papers C3come to me in the most sacred confluence, to be used for she purpose of compassing and Bottling all difficulties between them and of preventing, so far as possible, any knowledge of their private.affairs^ being brought to public

notice.

Tor this pur­

pose all their matters have been intrusted

to me,

and

for

"one other. If.

I

sh^

use them it would be noyo^to%Jun. of peace and reconcil--^^^

which

tQ renew

for

me to

of whatever of misconstruction and vituperation may come upon me, I must adhere to the dictates of my own judgment uid preserve at least my

own

self-respect.

fTcall attention again to the fact that yjjtirs is a mere voluntary tribunal, and fPOTiatever I do here is done by a voluntary, and not compelled wilt.ces whether before any tribunal having power to compel production of testimony and statement of facts, I shall ever produce these papers, or give any of these confidential statements, I reserve to myself to judge of emergency, which I hope may never come against my wish, as I never have been in sympathy with a renewal of this conflict. A part of these documents have been given to the public in so far, confidence in regard to them has ceased it is but just, therefore, and a duty of the party, that the whole of thosedocuiuentsportions only of which have been given, shall be put into your hands,

In response to this renewed reques of the committee, I have theret fore, copies of them which I produce here, and place in the hands of the committee, with the hope and request that after they have been examined by them, they may be returned to me. If any controversy shall arise as to the authenticity of copies or documents, on that point I shall hold myself open to speak, with this exception, except in the defense of my own honor, and the uprightness of ruy course in all this unfortunate and unhappy business, the purity and candor of which I appeal to the consciences of both parties to sustain. I do not propose to speak, and hope I may never be called upon hereafter to speak either as to facts, or produce any paper that I have received from either of the patties involved herein.

FRANCIS D. MOULTON

[The letters will appear in Mr. Beechen» statement, with an explanation df each cross exnmination.]

After reading this statement, Moulton was subjected to a brief cross examination as follows:

Mr. Winslow—Mr. Moulton, the committee desires to ask you some questions notwithstanding the position you take herein your written statement, you are well aware, as you show by the three invitations which the committee have sent you, are in good faith, pursuing an investigation you will remember that we were appointed by the pastor of Plymouth church, with a sanction and approval of the examining committee of that church, and to inquire into all these matters relating to the alledged grievances ot Mr. Tilton. The letter of authority that comes to us is not limited, and no restiictions are put upon us of any kind. We are invited 'to examine all sources of evidence. We have waited some two or three weeks to get your testimony and I am sure I express the feeling oi the committee when I express a sense of disappointment at the position you take. Of course we know that we are not a court with conipulsery power. We are, as yow state, a mere voluntary tribunal. You ca» do exactly as you pi east, we want your pleasure, but. what 1 desire to know is in behalf of the committee whether you have si .deliberately formed this purpose as to make it beyond recall as things now stand.

Mr. Moulton: In reply to what you have said, and with reference to my appearance here so far as vou are concerned in this committee, I call your attention to the language of your own invitation, namely: "We earnestly request that vou bring all letters and docuiuents in your possession which are referred to l»y'Theodore Tilton in his statement before the couun.ittee," I comply with the request ofs this committee, aud produce copies of the letteis referred to by Mr. Tilton, the authenticity of which I am reaHy, within a moment.-', to e§tab'Hl* sAM&t

Q. Do yon mean to have ua understand, Mr. Moulton, that you have per-

sonally compared the originals with these copies, so that you ki|qrw of your own knowledge that they ar^tsorrect?

A. I mean to state exactly what I have stated, Mr. Winslow. You have not stated anything on that poiot, Mr. Moulton.

A. Yes, I stated that these are copies of letters which you requested referred to in Mr. Tilton's documents.

Q. Do you state of your own personal knowledge that they are copies, or have you trusted to somebody else to make copies and confptre them?

A. I beg pardon, sir, I am willing to authenticate these copies whenever yon wish that they should be authenticated.

Cannot you new be induced, Mr. Moulton, to go on notwithstanding what has passed and give us a full statement of ali your knowledge in these matters?

A. I stand upon the communication which have made to you to-day, sir. Q. And that you do not mean to change?

A. Net without sufficient reason. Q. Of course I am referring to the present moment?

A. Yes sir. Mr. Winslow—There is another point that I would like to ask you about, Mr Moulton, considering the great importance of these letters I submit to you whether it would not be fair and proper that the originals be produced, notwithstanding your readiness to authenticate thecopies. You know that in court the copies would not be received where the original* could be produced, and would you not be willing to produce them long •nough to have them looked at and examined.

Answer—In answer to that question I will say that I have not any desire now, nor have I ever had aay desire to withheld these originals from you, and lam willing now or within a few moments to

Eer

roduce them. You may send any memof the committee to see them if you doubt my authenticity.

Mr. Winslow—I do not put it on the

fround

THI

of doubt, but on the ground of uMRSSS-like regularity. Mr. Moulton—Pardon me, I call your attention to the languaee of this statement which I have made. If the authen ticity by either party of these documents is doubted, I hold myself ready to prove their authenticity.

Mr, Winslow—I do not feel called upon to put it on any ground of doubt because there is no occasion of doing it,

Mr. Moulton—I do not think there is

Mr. Winslow—It is merely a matter of customary business regularity. Moulton—I have in good faith come here and have presented to you copies of the original documents if you doubt.

Mr. Winslow—Do not put it in that way, please. Mr. Moulton—Pardon me, I referred to my communication. If there is any doubt I will remove the doubt.

Mr. Winslow—You were about to say something of your willingness to send for them while you are here and let us see them.

Mr. Moulton—Oh, well you won doubt them I think. Q. If we should conclude that we wanted to see them at some other time, would you send for them?

A. Certainly sir. Q. Within the present week? A. Certainly, I am willing to go with all the members of your present com mittee, or any one that you may select some time during the present week, anc show to any accredited member of this committee the original documents. Is that a fair answer to that question?

Mr. Winslow: That is satisfactory. Mr. Hall: Perhaps that question could be determined so far as the com mittee are concerned at the present mo ment.

Mr. Moulton—I want action in refer ence to these documents determined ac cording to the expiesaion of the docu ment which I have submitted to you.

Mr. Winslow—Well, if for any reason we want to see the originals, I understand you to say. there is no objection.

Mr. Moulton assented. Mr. White. I want to inquire whether your objection to giving a

fuller

have

between

ji'JvXselves. How faithfully, earnestly and honestly 1 have labored to do my duty to the parties for peace, they both know. The question

eettle for

is

now, ought

I

to

do anything to aid either party in a renewed controversy by use of that which I received and have used only to promote harmony. On my honor arid conscience

think I ought, not and at the risk

state'

ment is based on the wording of the let ters, which seem, on one construction^ to limit it to bringing with you theori^inals of the letters or papers refe^ in Mr Tilton's committee, Miie«

acquiesced, just now, in the

request of your chairman, and that all the reasons for the non-production of facts or the non-exhibition of documents is given in the communicatien which I have in at rand to you.

Mr. White—Well, as I understand it, the first request antedating all of these called upon you to come before us, and give your testimony in regard to any charges which might affect the character and christian standing of Mr. Beecher, in the letter referred to, of Theo Tilton, to Dr. Bacon.

Mr. Moulton:—Your original letter did not say any such thing. Q. Have you a copy here, that we may see what it did say.

A. I presented to you at the beginning of this interview, the letters from your chairman with refererence to which I appear, and as it is a fact that I have fully answered these thrice repeated requests, I submit that this answer is sufficient.

Mr. Sage.—Allow me to ask you one question, Mr. Moulton. Mr. Moulton—Certainly.

Mr. Sage.—One letter of mine which is before me, contains a request to bring with you the originals of all the letters and papers referred to in Mr. Tilton's statement to the committee.

Mr. Winslow.—He has covered that by his agreement. Mr. Moulton—If you doubt or question or if you require them you shall have them.

Mr. Sage—When shall we? Mr. Moulton—My dear sir you da'h go with me altogether to my house if you want to.

Mr. Sage—The answer is unequivocal, but can we have possession. A. Not that you can have possession but that you can see them.

Q. Well, do you mean possession long enough to examine them. A. Yes sir, in accordance with my statement.

Mr. White: The letters that are referred to, whioh are produced by you here, three in number, each of them refer to a request before made, to appear and give your evidence. I desire, as one of the committee, to state that its my understanding that they cover the same thing that was in the statement in request of, early in July that you appear and give your testimony in regard to the matter involved in Tilton's letter to Mr. Bacon, and as they refer to that again, I claim it as my understanding, as one of the committee, that request is net limited to the simple production of progress, but it does include in it a request to give your testimony in regard to all matters. That is what I have been trying t» make appear here.

Mr. Moulton—I repeat again tbat I have answered fully in my interview with you the request of the chairman of your committee.

In answer to a question put by Mr. Tracy, Moulton replied: ''I have Btated explicitly in my conversation to this committee, the grounds upon which I deny to this committee the statement of facts and the exhibition of documents that have come into my possession in confidence.

Gen. Tracy—Then you don't mean to put that refusal on the form of the committee's invitation to you?

A. No, sir. On motion of Mr. Cleveland, it was voted that Winslow be authorized to go with Moulton, and examine and verify documents.

Alter some informal conversation in regard to the publicatien of the proceedings of .the session, Mr. Moulton retired.

The committee remained in consultation till 7 o'clock and then adjourned, to meet on Tuesday evening, the 11th inSt., at 8 o'clock.

Mr. Beecher's Statement 'f GENTLEMEN OF THE COMMITTEE: In a statement addressed to the public on the 22d of July last, I gave an explicit, comprehensive and solemn denial,to the charges made by Theodore-Tilton against toe. That denial I now repeat ind reaffirm. I also stated in thai communication that shor!d appear before your committee with a n. re detailed statement and explanation of facts.

Four years ago, Theodore Tiltoa fell from one of the proudesUeditOrial chairs in America, where he represented the

cause of religion, humanity and prosperity, and in a few months thereafter bet came the associate and representative of Victoria WoodhuiU and friends of her stripe. By his follies he became baakrupt in reputation in occupation and in reMjgrces. The interior history of which I am now about to give a brief outline, is the history of his attempts to so employ me to reinstate him into business, restore his reputation and place him., again upon the eminence lrom which he had fallen. *t is a sad 4 faistory to the full meaning of which have but recently awakened entangled in a wilderness of complications, I fol* lowed until lately a false theory and a delusive hope, believing that the friend who assured me of his determination to control the passionate vagaries of Tilton to restore his household, to rebuild his fortunes, and to vindicate me would be equal to that promise His self-confessed failure has made clear to me what fora long time I didn't suspect a single standpoint only as regaids my opinion of Tilton. It begins at my cordial intimacy with him in his earlier career show my lamentations and sorrowful bat hopeful affection for him during the period of his initial wandering8 from truth and virtue it describes my repentance over the evils befallin him, of which I was made to believe was the cause. My persevering and friendly, despairing efforts to save him and his family by any sacrifice of myself, not absolutely dishonorable, and my

Slollies

howing conviction that his perpetual and blunders rendered his recovery impossible. I can now see that he is, and has been from the beginning of this difficulty, a selfish and reckless schemer, pursuing a plan of mingled good and hatred, and weaving about me a net work of suspicious misunderstandings, plots and lies to which my own in nocent words and acts, nay even my thoughts of kindneaa towards him hare been made to contribute these successive views of him must be kept in view to explain my cause, througn the last four years that I was blind, so long as the real motive of intrigue was going on it was partly to my own public enjoyments, partly te my complete surrender ot this affair, and all the papers snd questions connected with it into the hands of Mr. Moulton, who was intensely confident that he could arrange it successfully, suffered, but I required little. Mr, Moulton was chary to me of Mr. Tilton's confidences to him, re porting to me occasionally in a general way, Mr. Tilton's words and outbreaks of passion only as elements of trouble which he was able to control and as addi tional proof of the wisdom of leaving it to him. His command of the situattion seemed to me at the time complete, immersed as I was in incessant care and duties and only too glad to be relieved frcm considering the detail of and wretch ed complication of the origin and fact of which remain in spite of all friendly intention, a perpetual burden to my soul I would not read in the papers about it, I would not talk about it. made Moulton for a long time my confi dent and my only channel of information From time to time suspicions were aroused in me by indications that Tilton was acting the part of an enemy, but my suspicions were allayed by his own behavior toward me, or in other words, by assurances of Mr. Moulton who ascribed circumstances to misunderstanding, or to malice on the part of others. It isplain until Tilton

to me now, that it was not had fallen into disgraceand lost hissala ry, that he thought it necessary to assail me with charges which he pretended to have had in his mind for 6 months, The domestic which he alleges was very quickly and easily put aside, but yet in such away as to keep my feelings stirred up, in order that I might, through my friends be used to extract from Mr, Bowen seven thousand dollars, the amount of a claim in a dispute^ between them, the check for that sum-' in hand Mr. Tilton signed an agreement jf peace and concord, not drawn by me but accented by me as sincere. The Golden 1. ..A 1 I Age had been started, he had the P"'NITAL.

sure tMl he wa»

anotj,er eXp]ana-

f-Jia8 on which certainly was the urTJerstanding of the committee. Mr. Moulton. Yes sir, I will answer your question. I wish to say and do say that I

bors confininj meals in famil\ year to year I

p_01

ere*

on lor a

to.

social revolution nAunuog.prosperity bo apparently no griefs which „au'ld not be covered by his signature to the aitides of peace. Yet the changes in that covenant made by him, before signing it, and represented to me as necessary to relieve him from the imputation of having originated it, and that his complete restoration to public standing and household happiness, was a reparation justly required of me, and the only one which I could make, but with a peculiar genius for blunders, he fell at almost every step into new complications and difficulties, and in every

Buch

instance it

was his policy to bring coercion to bear upon my konor,._my. conscience and my affections for the purpose of procuring his extrication at my expense. Theodore Tilton knew me well and he has said again and again to his friendB hey wished to gain any influence over me the must work upon the sympathetic side of my nature to thiB he has addressed himself steadily for four years, using as a lever, without scruple, of my attachment to my friends, to my family, to his own household and to even my old affection for himself, and circulated certain old and shameless slanders about me, which were really made, as it now appears, to leave him free for future operations on me and against me so long as lie was, or thought he was, on the road to a new success. His conduct towards me was as friendly when on. the appearance of the first open attack from Tilton, I immediately, without consulting Moulton, called for thorough investigation with a committee of my church. I am not responsible for the delay, ^he publicity, or the details of that investigation. All the harm which I have so long dreaded and have so earnestly striven to avoid has come to pass I could not further prevent it without a full surrender of honor and trtUh. The time has arrived when I can freely speak in vindication of myself, I labor under great disadvantages in making a statement, my memory of status of mind is clear and tenacious, belter than my memory of dates and details durinng four years, in all of which I have been -singularly burdened "with public labor, haying established and conducted the Christian Union, delivered a course of lectures before the Theological seminary, Yale seminary, written the life of Christ, and all these duties with the care of the great church and its out lying schools, chapels and miscellaneous business which falls upon a clergyman more than upon any other pHblic man, I have kept in regard, and now with the necessity of explaining actions and letters resulting from complex influences, apparent at the time, I find myself in a position where I know my innocence without being able to prove it, save with detached explanations, am one upon whom trouble works inwardly, making it outwardly silent, but reverberating in the chambers of my soul, and when al length I do speak it is a pent up flood and pours without measure or moderation. 1 inherit a tendency to sadness, the remains in me of a positive hypochondria of my father and grandfather and in certain moods of reaction, the world becomes black and I see very desparingly. If I were in such mood to speak as I feel I should give false color and exaggerated proportions to every thing. This manifestation is in such contrast to the hopefulness and courage which I experienced in ordinary times, that none but those intimate with we would suspect me so full of spirit and eager gladsonieness to have within him a care of gloom. Some of ray letters to Moulton reflect this morbid feeling he understood it and at times earnestly reproved me for indugiitgin it.

With this preliminary review I pro ceed te my narative. Mr. T. was first known to me as a reporter of ray fermens, then a youth just from school and work ing on the New York Observor,and from this paper he passed to the Independent, and became a great favorite with Bowen. When, about 1861, Drs. Bacon, Storrs and Thompson resigned their places I became editor of tho Independent, to which I had been from its start a contributor, one of the'inducements held cut to me was tbat Tilton should be my assistant and relieve me wholly from .the routine oi office work. In this relation 1 became very much attached to him. We us^d to stn-Il to galleries and print shops and dine often together. His mind was opening freshly and with enthusiasm on all questions. I used to pour out my ideas of civil affairs, public policy, religion and philanthropy, of this he has often spoken with grateful appreciation, and mourned at a late day oyer its ceaxalion. August, was my vacation month, but my family repaired to my farm in June and remained there during September and October, my la-.-v..-.,-.-''

jj^ends||fcnd

from

so flwiiliar with that I

Hit daily, almost 1'dwn .House. Mr.

Tilt*n, often alluded to this habit, and nrged me to do the same by his house. He would often speak in extravagant terms of Lis wife's esteem for me. He urged ma to bring my papefs down there* snd (fee l^s Andy to* db my 'writuig in^ as it was not pleasant to write at the office^ the Independent. W hwriHriB* to England, in 1863, Mr. Tilton took temrary charge of the Independent. On my return I paved the way for him to take sole charge of it, my name remaining for a year, and then he becoming responsible as he knew how to make it- His assumption of superiority and magnanimity, and his patronizing manner were trifles at which I eould afford to^ smile, and which 1 bore with the greatest humility ever since, I still retained the profound impression upon me, as explained in the following narrative that I had been a cause of overwhelming disaster to him, nor blind to his faults, bat. resolved to look oa him as favorably and hopefully as possible, and ignorant of his deeper malice, I labored earnestly, even desperately for his Balvation. For four years I have been trying to feed the insatiable egotism, to make the myi as great as he con ceived himself to be, to restore prosperity and public confidence to one who in the midst of my efforts, on his behalf, patronized disreputable people and doctrines, refnBed when I besought him to separate himself from theirs, and ascribed to my agency the increasing ruin which he was persistently bringing on himself and which I was doing my utmost to avert. It was hard to do anything for such a man, 1 might as well have tried to fill a seive with water. In latter stages of the history he actually incited and created difficulties apparently for no other purpose than to drive me to fresh exertions. I refused to endorse his wild views and associates*,* the best I could do was to speak well of him, and mention those good qualities and abilities which I still believe him to possess in IUB higher moods, and keeping silence concerning: the evil things which I was assured ancl believed had been greatly exaggerated by public report. I couldn't think him so bad as my friends did. I trusted to the genius of good which I thought still lived in him, to Mr. Moulton'H apparent power over him and the power of my persistent self -sacrifice.

Mr. Moulton came to me first as schoolmate and a friend of Tilton's determined to reconcile him. I al ways suspected without regard to my own interests, but on farther acquaintance with me, understood and promised to serve his friend without doing wrong to me. He saw clearly how this was to be done so as restore peace and harmony to Mr. Tilton's home, and bring a happy end to all my misunderstandings. Many things which he counselled I absolutely refused to do, but I never doubted his professed friendship for me after friendship had grown up between us, and whatever he wished me to do I did, unless it seemed to me wrong. My confidence in him was the only element that seemed secure in this confusion of tormenting perplexities. To him I wrote freely in this troublous time, while I felt that secret machinations were going on around me, and echoes of the vilest slan ders concerning me were heard in unex pected quarters, when some of my near relations were set against me and the tattle of a crowd rf malicious women,hos' tile to us on other grounds, was borne to my ears, when I had lost the last remnant of faith in Theodore, or hope for him, when 1 heard with unspeakable re morse that everything I had done to stay his destruction, had made matters w®r8e and worse, and that my atte»»P? to

him from a pub»-

Keep

irl?\

involving

such a flo". vandal as has now i"»en loose, had been

umed

by him to bring up new

troubles, that MB unhappy wife was under his dictation, signing papers and recantations and I know not what, that in short every thiBg was breaking up and the destruction from which I had sought to save my family was likely to be em ptled on other families, the church, the community, with infinite horrors of woefor me that my own innocence was bur ried under heaps and heaps of rubbish and nobody but my professed friend if even he could save us. To his assurances that he could still do so gave at least so much faith aa to maintain me under these terrible trials, the Bilence which he enjoined not till Mr. Tilton, having attempted through Frank Carpenter to raise Jmoney from my friends and openly assailed me in bitter words to Dr. Bacon, did I break that silence save by Blmple denial orstfie slanderous rumors against me a year ago. editor, friendly relations continued till 1866, when violent assaults were madfe on me by Tilton in the Independent on account of my Cleveland letter and temporary discontinuation of publication of my sermons in that paper broke off my connection with it, although Mr. Tilton and I remained personally on good terms, yet there was a coolness between us on all matters of politics, our social relations were very kindly, and as late as 1868-9, at his request, 1 sat to Page some fifty times for^a portrait it was here that I first met and talked with Moulton, whose wife was a member of Plymouth church though he was not a member. Daring this whole period I never re ceived from Mr. Tilton or any member of his family the slightest hint that there was any dissatisfaction with my familiar relations to his household. As late as 1869, when going upon an extended lecturing tour he said,"I wish you would look in after and see that Libby is not lonesome or does not want anything," or words to that effect. Never Jby sign or word did Mr. Tilton complain of my visits in his family until after he began to feel that the Independent would be taken foom him, nor did he break out into violence till on the eve of the dispossession from both papers, the Independent and the Brooklyn Union, owned by Mr. Bowen. During these years of intimacy in Tilton's family 1 was treated as a father or elder brother. Children were born, children died they learned to love me, and to frolic with me as if I was one of themselves. I love them, and-1 had for Mrs. Tilton a true and honest regard. She seemed to me an affectionate mother, a devoted wife, looking up to her husband as one far above the common race of men, and turning to me with artless familiarity, and with entire confidence childish in appearance, she was childlike in nature, and I would as soon have mis conceived the confidence of the little girls as the unstudied affection which she showed me. Delicate in health, with self-cheerful air, she was boundless in her sympathy for those In trouble, and labored beyond her strength for the poor. She had the charge at one time of the married wo men's class at the Bethel Mission school,, and they perfectly worshipped her. There I gave Mrs. Tilton copies of my. books when published. I sometimes sent down from mv farm flowers to be distributed among a "dozen or more fami lies, and she occasionally shared them. The only present of value I ever gave her was on my return from Europe in '64, whea I distributed soverneirs of my journey to some 50 or-more persons, and to her leave a. simple brooche of no intrinsie value. So far from stippos-'' ing that my presence and influence was alieneatinsr Mrs. Tilton from her family relations, I thought on the contrary it was giving her strength and encouraging her to hold fast npon a man who was evidently sliding into dangerous associations, and liable to be reversed by unaxampled self-conceit. I regarded Tilton as in a very critical period of his life, and used to think it fortunate that* he had such good home influences about him. During the late years of our friendship, Mrs. Tilton spoke mournfully, to me about the tendencies of ber husband to a great laxity of doctrines in religion and morals. She gave me understand that he denied tha divinity of Christ and most articles oi orthodox faith, while his views as

propriety between a brother and siabetween a father and child, or belaaff ofiloBbr aid ih« wife of hSl fer^id||nyfiiing happen wh|k

Jthoughvwas wrong. Cf ears before any open trouble Slto»*»d myseUy^ns deetomes

as set forth in the leaders of the' Independent aroused a storm of indignation among representative Congregationalists ili the west, .and as tbe paper was still! very largfely supposed to be my organ, I was written to any sd^ect.' JLS reply^ fndignantly disclaimed all responsibility for the views expwssed by Tilton. My Brother Edward, then living in Illinois, was

Str.Bowen.concerningthecourse

rominent in remonstrances addressed to of hiB paper under Mr. Tilton's management. It was understood tbat Bowen that in consequence of the

en agreed

quence of tbe proceedings

arising out of this remonstrance, to reTilton or move Tilton or suppress his peculiar views. But instead of that, Theodore seemed firmer in hia saddle than before, and his loose notions of marriage and divorce began to be shadowed editorially. This led to the starting of the Advance, in Chicago, to supercede the Independent in the northwest, and Mr. Bowen was made to feel tbat Mr. Tilton's management was serioufly injuring business, and Tilton may have felt that his position was being undermined by opponents of his views, with whom he subsequently pretended to believe I was leagued Vague intimations of his feeling hard towards me, 1 ascribed to this misconception. I had really taken no steps to harm him.

After Mrs. Tilton's return from the west, in December of 1870, a young girl who Mrs. Tilton had taken into the family, educated and treated like an own child. Her testimony, understand, is before the committee, and was sent to me with an urgent request that I would visit Mrs. Tilton at her mother's, she said Mrs. Tilton had left her home and gone te her mother's, in consequence of ill-treatment of her husband. She then gave an account of what she had seen of cruelty and abuse ob the part of ber husband that shocked me, and yet more when with a downcast look she said that Mr. Tilton had visited her chamber hi the night and Bought her consent to his wishes. I immediately visited Mrs. Tilton at her mother's, and received an account of her home life of despotism of her husband, and of the management of a woman he had made housekeeper, which seems like a night mare dream. The question was, whether she would go back, or separate forever from her husband, tasked permission to bring my wife to see them, whose judgment in all domestic relations I thought better than my own, and accordingly a second visit was made the result of the interview was that my wife was extremely indignant toward Mr. Tilton, and declared that no consideration on earth could induce her to remain an hour with a man who had treated her with one hundreth part of such insult and cruelty. I felt as strongly as she did, but hesitated as I always do at giving advice in favor of a separation. It was agreed that my wife should give her final advice an at over visit the next day when ready to go, she wished a final word, but there was company and the children were present, and I wrote upon a piece of paper, "I incline te think that your view is right and lhat a separation and a settlement of support will be wisest"^_and that in his present desperate state her presence near him as far mote like to prCduce hatred than her absence. Mrs Tilton didn't tell me that my presence had.anything to do with this trouble, n*"' did she let me know that oj»/beJ"1y previous that he had e*t°rte5

r?m

a confession of «*°e88ive

affection for

on the evening of December 27, 1870, Mr. Bowen on his way home called at my house and handed me a letter from Mr. Tilton. It was, as nearly as I can remember, in the following terms.

Henry Ward Beecher: For reasons which you explicitly know and which forbear to state, I demand that you with draw from the pulpit and quit Brooklyn as a residence. [Sighned.] THEO. TILTON.

I read it over twice and then turned to Bowen and said, "This man is zrazy, This shows insanity," and other like words. Mr. Bowen professed to be igj norant of .its contents, and I handed him the letter to read. He at once fell into conversation about Mr. Tilion. He gave me some account of the reason why he had reduced him from the editorship of the Independent to the subordinate pe 8ition of contributor, viz: That Mr. Tilton's religious and social views were ruining the paper. But he said that as soon as it was known that he had so far broken with Tilton there came pouring Jja jHUon him/aq, many. «toriea of Mr. Tiltons private life and habits that he was overwhaftned, and that lie was now nsideriy Whether he could con sistefftfy retain him on the Brooklyn Union or as chief contributor to the Independent. He narrated the story of the af fair at Winsted, Conn., some like stories from the northwest, and the. charges brought against Tilton in his own office. Without doubt be believed these allegations, and so did the other facts previously stated to me second a full corroboration. We conversed some .time. Mr. Bowen wishing opinion, it was frankly given. I didn't see how he could maintain former rela tions with Mr. Tilton. The substance of the full conversation was that Tilton's inordinate variety, his fatal facility for blundering, for which he had a genius, and ostentatious independence in his own opinions and general ijnpracticableness, would keep the Union at a disadvantage with the political party for whose ser vice it was published, and now added to all tbe revelations of these promiscuous immoralists would make his connection with either paper fatal to its interests. I spoke strongly and emphatically under the great provocation of his threatening to me, and the revelation I bad just had concerning- his domestic affairs. Mr. Bowen derided the letter of Tilton which he had brought to me and said earnestly that if trouble come of it, I might rely on his friendship. I learned afterward of further quarrel, ending in Tilton's peremptory expulsion from Bowen's service that his conversation was told to Tilton I believe that Bowen had an interview and received some fuither information about Tilton from my wife, to whom I had referred him, although I have no doubt that Tilton would have lost bis place, at any rate. 1 have also no dbubt that my influence was decisive, and precipitated his final overthrow. When I came to think it all over I felt very unhappy at the contemplation of Tilton's impending disaster I had loved him much, and at one time he seemed like a son to roe. My influence had come just at the time of his first unfolding, and hiH much to do with his early develop­

ment.1

to

the sanctity of

marriage relations were undergoing a constant change In Iffe direction of free Jove. In the Tatter part of July 1870, ^Irs. Tilton was sick and at her request I visited: her she seemed mneh depressed, bat gave me no hint of any trouble having reference to me. I cheered and prayed with her jaa* Jftfore leaving.

This WHS our last interview before trouble broke out in the family. I describe it because it was the last and has a bearing on the latter part ot my story. Concerning my other visits, it is sufficient to say tbatat.no interview which ever took place did anything o«5ur which might not ha7e occurred with perfect

I had aided him externally to

bring him before the public. We had been together iu great controversies of the day until afterward our social intercourse had been intimate. It is true that his nature always exaggerated his own excellencies, when he was but a boy he looked up to me irilh affectionate admiration, and after some years he felt himself my equal and was very companionable, and when he had subgrown me and reached the position of the first man of the age he still was kind and patronizirg. I had alwava smiled at these Weaknesses of vanity and had believed that a longer experience with some knocks among strange men and by sorrows that temper tbe soule, he would yet fulfil a useful and brilliant career, but now all looked dark he was to be cast forth from his eminent position and his affairs didn't promise that sympathy, and strength which makes ones house as mine has been in times of adversity. A refuge from the storm, and a tower in defence. Besides a generous suffering I should have had a selfish reason for sueh if I had dreamed that I was about to become he instrument by which Tilton meant to fight his way back to the prosperity which he had forfeited. He now appears that on the 29th of December, 1870, Mr. Tilton having learned that I replied to his threatening letter by expressing such an opinion of him as to set Mr. Bowen against him and -bring him faee to face with ruin, extorted from his wife, then suffering from severe illness, a document incriminating me, and prepared an elaborate,attack on me, on December, 1870. F, Meal ton called at my hoase, and with intense earnestne»,«aid, "I wish you to go with me to sea Mr. Tilton." I replied that I- cobld not then, as I was just going to my prayer meeting. With most positive manner, he said, "You must go. Somebody else will take care of the meeting." I went with him,not knowing what trouble had agitated him, but vaguely thinking? might now learn the

solutioqjff a recently threatening letter. On the way I asked what waa the reason of this visit, to which he replied that Tilton would inform me, or words to that efieet. On ottering his house, Mr. Moulton locked the door, saying something about net being interrupted. He requested me to go into the front chamber, over the parlor. I was under the impressian that Mr. Tilton was going to pour out on me again for colleaguing with Bowen, and for the advice of separation given his wife. I wished Mr. Moulton to be with me as a witness, but ha in* sisted that I shauld go by myself. Mr. T. received me coldly, but calmly after word or two, standing in front of me with a memorandum in his hand, he began an oration. He, in an unfriendly spirit, hold me that I had sought his downfall had spread injurious rumors about him was using my place aud influence to undermine him, and much more that I can't remember. He then declared tbat I had injured him in his family relatione had joined with his mother-in-law in producing discord in his house and advised a separation had alienated his wife's affection from bim had led her to love me mere than any living being had corrupted her moral natnre and led her to be incensed, lying and hypocritical, and ended by charging lhat I had made wicked proposals to her. Until he said this I had listened with some contempt, under the impression that newaa attempting to bully me, but with tbe laat charge he produced a paper purporting to be a certified statement of a previous confession made to him by his wife of her love for me and that I had made proposals to her of an improper nature. He said that this confession had been made to him in

July,

Bix

months previous, but that

his sense of honor aBd affection would not permit any such document to remain in existence that he had burned the original and should now destroy the only copy and then tore the paper into small pieces. If I had been shocked at such a statement I was absolutely thunderstruck when he closed the interview by requesting me to repair at once to his house where he said Elizabeth waS waiting for me and learn from her Hps the truth of the stories. This fell like a thunderbolt en me could it be possible that his wife should have made such false statements, and yet if she had not, how weuld he dare to send me to her for confirmation of his charges. I went forth like* sleep-walker, while clouds were flying in the sky. There had been a snow storm which was breaking away the winds were out and whistling through leafless trees, but all this was peace compared to my mood. I believe that Moulton went to the door of Tilton's house—the housekeeper, the Bame woman whom Mr. Tilton had complained— scented to have been instructed by bim •for she evidently expected me and showed me up to Mrs. Tilton's room. Mrs. Tilton lay on her bed, white as marble, as if in a trance, and with her hands on her bosom palm lo palm like one in prayer as I look back on this picture is some form carved, on marble that I have seen in liurope. She made no sign of recognition of my presence. I sat down near her, and said, Elizabeth, Theodore has been making very serious charges against me, and sends me to you jor confirmation. She made no reply or sign, yet it was plain that she was conscious and listening. I repeated som« °J his statement, that I bad brought descord te his family and had^i«na^ted her from him, and had -ought to break up his familv a» usurped his influence, and th*n, as well as I could, I added that be said I had made improper suggestions to her, and to that she admitted this last July. I said Elizabeth, have you made Buch statements to him? She made no answer. I repeated the question tears ran down her cheeks, and she very slight ly bowed her head in acquiescence. I said, you cannot mean that you have stated all he haB charged? She opened her eyes and began in a slow and feeble* way to explain bow sick she had been, how wearied out with importunities, that he had confessed his own alien loves and said that he could not bear to think that she was better than he, and that she might win hira to reformation if she would confess that she had loved me more than him, and that they would repent and go on with further concord, can't give her language, but only the tenor of her representations. I received them impatiently, I spoke to her in the strongest languase of her course, I said to her, have I ever made improper advances to you she said no. Then I asked why did you say so to UyOvtr husband, she seemed deeply distressed My friend—by that designation she almoBt always called me —I am sorry, but I could not help it what^an I do? -I told her she could state in irriting what sli« had now told me, She beconed for her writing materials which I handed her, standing near by^ and she sat up in bed and wrote a brief counter-statement.

In a sort of postscript she denied explicitly that I had ever offered any im proper solicitation to her, that being the only charge made ag»Inst me by Mr. Tilton, or sustained the statement about the coril* Asi 13 ivhich he had read to me. I dreamt, of no worse charge at tbat time. Tnai waa horrible enougb. The mere thought that he could make it and could have extorted any evidence on which to base it, was enougn to taks away iny senses. Neither uiy consciousness of its utter falsity nor Mrs. Tilton's retraction of her part in it, could remove tbe shock from my heart. Indeed, her admission that she had Btated under any circum stances to her hnsband so wicked 1 falsehood was the crowning blow of all. It seemed to one as if she was going to die, that her mind was over thrown and that I was in some dreadful way mixed up in it, and might be left,"by ber death, with this terrible accusation hanging over me. I returned like one in a dream to Mr. Moulton's hcuie, where I said very little, and soon went home. It has been said that I confessed my guilt and expressed remorse. This is utterly false. Is it likely tbat with Mrs. Tilton's retraction in my pocfe et I should have thus stultified myself? Ontqe next day, at evening Mr. Moulton called at my house and came up into my bed-room He said that Mrs. Tilton/on her husband's return, to her after our interview, had informed him what she bad done, that I had her retraction. Moulton expostulated with tne, and said that retraction under the circumstances, would not mend matters, but only make fresh discord between husband and wife, and do great injury to Mrs. Tilton, without Uelping me. Mrs. Tilton, be said, bad already recanted in writing the retraction made to me, and of course there might be no end to such contradicting. Meanwhile, Mr. Tilton had destroyed bis wife's first letter acknowledging the confession, and Moulton claimed that bad taken tbe mean advantage and made dishonorable use of Theodore's request that I sbonld visit her in obtaining her written contradiction to a document not in existence. He said tbat all the difficulties could be settled without any snch paper, and I ought to give it np. He was under no verbal threats, but be opened his overcoat, and with some emphatic remarks, showed a pistol, which afterward hp took out and laid on the bureau nea^* which he stood. I gave the paper to him, and after a few moments' talk, he left. Within a day or two after this, Mr. Moulton made me the third visit, and this time we repaired to my study in the third story of my houae. Before speaking of this interview, it is right tbat I should allude to tbe suffering through which I had gone during tbe previous day, the cause of which was the strange change in Mrs. Tilton. Nothing had seemed more certain during all my acquaintance with ber than that she was singularly simple, truthful and honorable. Deceit seemed absolutely foreign to her nature. She had stated to her hnsband these strange and awful falsehoods. She had not, when daily I called-and prayea with her, given me the slightest hint. I will not say of such accusations a bit even that there was any serious family difficulties. She had suddenly, in December, called me and my wife to a consultation as to a possible separation from ber busband, still leaving me ignorant tbat she bad put into bis hands such a weapon against me. I was bewildered with a doable consciousness of a «aintly woman communicating a very needless treachery to her friend and pastor my distress was boundless. I did not for a moment leel, however, that she was to be blamed tor this, as would ordinarily be thought, but supposed that she had been overcome by weakness, and in inind until she scarcely knew wbat she did, and was no longer responsible for her acts. My soifl went out to her in pity blamed myself for want of prudence and foresight, but I thought

all this had been the result of her undue affection for me. I had a profound feeling that I would bear any blame and take any punistiment, If that poor child could only emerge from that olo'ud and be pat back into the happiness, from which I had been, as I thought, if not the cause of tbe occasion of withdrawing her. If my own daughter had been in a similar case, my grief at her calamity could scarcely have been greater. Moreover, from the anger aud fury of Mr. Tilton, I apprehended that this charge was made by him, &od supported by' the accusation of his wife, was to be at once publicly pressed against me, and if it was, I bad nothing but my single *ordao denial to interpose agains it. In my then mobid condition of mind I thought thauthis charge, although entirely untrue, might resuli in great disaster, it not in absolute ruin to the great intereats whioh are entirely dependent on me, the church'which I had built up, tbe book which I was writing, my own immediate family, my brother's name now engaged in tbe ministry,my sister, the name which I had hoped might live after me and be iti some slight degree a source of strength and encouragement to those who should succeed me and, above all, the cause for whioh I bad devoted all my life work, was to end abruptly and in disaster, my desire to avoid a public accusation, and the ends which must necessarily flow from it and which now have resulted from it has been one of the leading motives that must have induced my action.

It was in such a sore and distressing condition that Mr. Moulton found me. His manner was kind and conciliatory.

He seemed, however, to be convinced that I had been seeking Tilton's downfall that I had leagued with Mr. Bowen against him, and that I had, by advice, come near destroying his family. I did not need any argument or permission to induce me to do and say anything which would remedy the injury which I then believed I had been the occasion of, not the active cause but Moulton urged that having wronged Tilton so, the wrong meant his means of support suddenly taken away,

hiB

reputation gone,

HIS FAMILY DESTROYED,

and that I had done it. He assured me, of his own knowledge, that the stories which I had heard of Mr. Tilton^ impurities of life, and which I had believed and repeated to Bowen, were all false, and that Tilton had always been faithful to his wife. I was persecuted into the belief of what he said, and felt convinced of the slander in its meanest form. He drew the picture of "Jilton wronged in reputation, in position, ehAttfired in his family would otherwise have fouad and at the same time looking upon me out of his deep distress, while I was aheunding in friends the most popular and with ample means, he drew that picture. My property overflowing and abounding, and Tilton's utter degradation. I was most intensely excited. Indeed, I felt that my mind was in danger of giving away. I walked up and down the room, pouring forth my heart in the most unrestrained grief and bitterness of self-accusuatioi-Telling what my ideas were of the obligation of friendship, and of the sacred

nesB

of household, denying however, an intentional wrong, seeing that if I had the cause, however remotely, of that which I then beheld, I never could forgive myself, and heaping all the blame on my head. The case, as it then appear ed to my eyes, was Btrongly against me. My old and valued fellow-workers had been dispossessed of his eminent place and influeence, and I had canceled it. His family had well-nigh been broken up, and I had advised it. His wife had been long sick and broken in health and body, aud, as I fully believed that I had been the cause of all this, by considering that blind heedlessness and friendship which had beguiled her heart, and had aroused her husband into a fury of jealousy, although not caused by any intentional act of mine, and should I coldly defend myself, should Ipour indignation upon this lady, should I hold her open to contempt as having thrust her affections upon me unsought, upon the man and his household in their great adversity, I gave vent to my feelings without measure. I disclaimed with thegreatest earnestness any attempt to harm Theodore in his home or his business, and with inexplicable sorrow, both blamed and defended Mrs. Tilton in one breath.

Mr. Moulton was apparently affected with my soliloquy, for it was that rather than a conversation. He said that if Til ton could really be persuaded of the friendlinesb of my feelings toward him he was sure that there would be no trouble in procuring a reconciliation,

Sslings.

ve him leave to state to Theodore my He proposed that I should write 1 letter. I declined, but said that he could report our interview. He then prepared to make a memorandum of the talk, and sat down at my table, and took down,as I supposed, a condensed report of my talk for I went on still pouring out my wounded feelings for tbs great desolation in Tilton's family. It wa* not a dictation of sentence after sentence, he being a mere amanuemis, and I com posing for him. Mr. Moulton was putting 2nto his own shape parts of that which 1 was saying in my own manner, with profuse explanations. This paper oi Moulton's was a mere memorandum of points to be used by him in Betting forth my feelings. That it contains matter and points derived from me, is without doubt but tbey were put with sentences by him and expressed as he understood them, not as my words, but as hints of my figures and letters to be used by him in conversing with Tilton. He did not read the

faper

to me nor did I read it, nor have ever seen it or heard it read, that I re member, until the publication of

TILTON'S RECENT DOCUMNETS. And now reading it, I see in it thoughts that point to the matter of my discourse, but it is not in my paper, nor are these my sentences, nor is it a correct report ot what I said. It is a mere string of hints, hastily made by an unpracticed writer, as helps to

hiB

memory in representing

to Tilton how I felt towards his family. If more than this be claimed if it be set forth as in any proper sense my letter, I then disown and denounce it. Someol its sentences, and particularly that in which I am made to say that 1 had obtrined Mrs. Tilton's forgiveness, I never could have said, even in substance, I hau not obtained, nor asked any forgiveness from her, and nobody pretended that I had said so. Neither could I ever have said that I humbed myself before Tilton as before God, except in asense that both to Ged and to the man I thought I had deeply injured, I humbled myself, as certainly did. But it is useless to analyze a paper prepared as this was. The remainder of my plain statement concerning it will be its best comment. This document was written upon three separate half-sheets of large letter paper. After it was finished Moulton asked me if I would sign it. I said.no it was not my letter. He replied that it

Would

have more weight, if I would in some wayiindicate that he was authorized to explain my sentiments. 1 took my pen, and at some distance below the writing, and upon a lower margin,I indicated that I had committed the document in trust to Moulten, and I signed the line thus written by me. A few words more as to its fate. Mr. Moulton, of his own accord, said that after using it he would, in two or three days, bring the memorandum back tome, and he cautioned me about disclosing in anyway that there waa a DIFFICULTY BETWEEN MB. TILTON AND

ME,

As it would be injurious to Tilton to have it known tbat I had quarreled with him, as well as to me to have rumors set afloat. I did not trouble myself about it until more than a year afterward when Tilton began to write up his case, of which hereafter, and was looking np documents. I wondered what was in the old memorandum and desired to see to see it for greater certainty, so one day I suddenly aBked Moulton for that memorandum, and said: "You promised to return it to me." He seemed confused for a moment and said. "Did I?" "Certainly," I answered. He replied that tbe paper had been destroyed. On my putting the question again, he said that the paper was burned up long ago, and daring the next two yiars, various conversations, of his accord jo spoke of it a* destroyed. I had never axked for nor authorized the destruction of his paper, bnt I was not alltwed to know lhat tbe docoment was in existence until a distinguished editor of New York, within four weeks past, assured me that Mr. Moulton had shown him the original, and that he had examined my signature to be sure of its genuineness. know that there was a

copy of it since this statement was in preparation. While I reject this memorandum as nay work, or an accurate condensation of my statement, it does undoubtedly correctly represent that I was in profound sorrow, and tbat I blamed myself with great severity for the disasters of the Tilton family. I had not then the light tbat I now have.. There was much then tbat weighed heavily upon my heart and conscience which now weighs only on my heart. I did not have the light which annalyses and discriminated things'. By one blow there opened before me a revelation full of light, an agonized family whose inmates h**e been my friends, greatly beloved. The htwband ruined in wordly prospects, the household crumbling to pieces, the woman by ldbg sickness and suffering either corrupted to deceit as ,4 '. HKK HUSBAND ALLEGED, 6r so broken in mind as to be irresponsible, and either way it washer enthusiasm for her pastor, as I was made to believe, that waa the germ and beginning of the trouble. It was for me to have foretoled and prevented that mischief. My age experience in the world should have put me more on my guard. I could not at that time tell what was true and what not true. Of all the considerations urged upon me by Tilton and Moulten, there was a grief before me in which lay those who had been warm friends, and they alleged lhat I had helned to plunge th»m therein. That seemeu enough to fill my soul with sorrow and anguish, No mother who has lost a child but will understand wild self-accusation that grief produced against all reason blamingherself for what fhe neglected to do, charging upon herself her neglect or heedlessness to the death of her child, while ordinarily every one knew that she had worn herself out with her assiduities. Soon after thisl met Mr. Tilton at Mr.

Moulton's house. Either Mr. Moulton was sick or was very late in rising for he was in bed. The subject of my feelings and conduct toward Tilton was introduced. I made a statement of the motives under which I had acted in counselling Bowen of my feelings in regard to Tilton's family, disclaiming with nor* ror the thought of doing wrong, and expressing a desire to do whatever lay in human power to remedy any evil 1 had occasioned, and to re-unite his family. Tilton was silent and sullen. He played the part of an injured man, but Moulton said to Tilton, with intense emphasis: "That is all that a gentleman can say, and you ought to accept it," as our honorable basis of reconciliation, be repeated two or three times, and Tilton's countenance cheered up under Moulton's strong talk. We shook hands and parted in a friendly way. Not very long afterward. Tilton asked me to his house, and said he should be glad to have the good old times renewed. 1 do not remember whether I took a meal after that

UNDER HIS ROOF,

But I certainly was invited by him to renew my visits as formerly, never resumed my intimacy with the family, but once or twice I went there, soon after my reconciliation with Tilton, and at his request. I particularly remember a scene which took place at his house when he talked about his wife and me in a very gracious mood. He hegan by bemoaning his sorrows. He'was very desolate. The future seemed f*uite dark. After impressing us with his great patience, he grew generous, praised me to his wife, saying that I had taken upon myself all the blame of the past troubles, and had honorably exculpated her, and telling me that his wife likewise had behaved very magnanimously, had blamed herself and declared that I was blameless, and he closed his remarks with increasing hope and cheerfulness

Baying

that deep as was

his misery he did not know but that it would mark out in future a more cheerful borne than he hnd before. I restrained my smiles at the absurdity of the thing,well content lo have it evaporate so and even thinking he was generous in his way. This seemed to me the end of the troubles with a sensitive aud honorble man, who had no ulterior designs to accomplish. I supposed Tilton had given up the idea of intentional wrong on my part, and fergiven my unintentional wrong. I plainly understand now wbat I did not then suspect that my trouble of mind was to be kept alive and nourished so that I might be used to act on my friend in securing from Bowen the money which Tilton claimed due as compensation for his expulsion from the two newspapers. Mr. Moulton and Mr. Tilton both strove to obliterate from my mind all belief in the rumors tbat bad been circulated about Tilton. There was much going on in silencing, explaining, arranging, etc., that I aid not understand as well then as now but of one thing I was convinced, that Tilton had the highest sense of

MARITAL PURITY

And that he had never strayed from the path of virtue.-which preservation he owed, as he told me laVlTSffltaffB uf^ life, to a very solemn scene with his father who, on the evening of his leaving home, pointed out to him the nature of amorous temptations, snares and evils to be dreaded from unlawful practices. He declared that he had always been kept spotless by the memory of that scene. I was glad to believe it true, and felt how hard it was that he should be m»4e to suffer by evil and slanderous foes. I could not explain some of the testimony which h^l been laid before me, but said: "There is, undeubtedly, some misunderstanding, and if 1 knew the whole I should find Theodore, though with obvious faults, at least sound and good." These views I often expressed to intimate friends in spite of their manifest incredulity, what, in the light of facts, I must call their well deserved ridicule. Moulton lost no occasion of presenting to me the kindest view of Tilton's character and conduct. On the other hand, he complained that Mrs. Tilton did net trust her hnsband, or him. and did not assist him in his effort to help Theodore. I knew that she distrusted Moulton and felt bitterly hurt by the trestment of her husband. 1 was urged to use my influence with her, to inspire confidence in Moulton, and lead her to takes kinder view of Theodore. Accordingly at tbe instance yf Moulton, three letters were written on the same day. February 17,1871, on one common purpose to be

Bhown

to Mrs.

Tilton, and to reconcile her to her husband, and my letter to her of tbat date was designed to effect the further or collateral purpose of giving her confidence in Mr. Moulton. This will be obvious from the reading of the letter.

The following is the full text of MY LETTER of that date from a copy verified by one of your committee, for have not to this hour been permitted to see the originals, either of them or of any other papers which I had deposited with Moulton for safe-keeping.

This will be obvious from the reading of the letters. The following is the full tex4 nf my letters of that date, from a copy verified by ono of our committee, for I have not to thia our been permitted to see tbe originals, either of them or any other papers which I bad deposited with Moulton for safe keeping: (Hereare inserted the

date. In my letter to Mrs. Tilton I alluded to the fact tbat I did not expect, Vben I saw her last,

TO BE ALIVE MANY DAYS.

That statement stands connected witha series of symptoms which I first exerienced in 1866. I went through the remont campaign, speaking in tbe open air tbree hours at a time, three days in tbe week. On renewing my literary labors I felt tbat I must have given way. I was going to have apoplexy, or paralysis, or something of the kind. On two or three occasions wbiie preaching I should have fellen. in the pulpit if I had not held onto the table. Very often came near falling in tbe streets. During the last fifteen years I have gone into the pnlpit, I, suppose a hundred times, with si, very strong impression that I should^ never come out of it alive.# I have preached more serious tban anyi-. human being would believe, when IP1 feel all tbe while that whatever I had? got to say to my people I must say itthen or I never would have jnother^ chance to use it. If I had consulted a| pbyBician, His first advice would have? jeen "you must stop work," but I was: iu such a situation tbat I could not stop work. I read tbe best medical books' on the symptoms of nervous prostration and overwork, and paralysis and formed my own judgment of my case. The tbree points I marked were: I must have good digestion, rfood sleep, and I must go on working. These three things were to be reconciled and in regard to my diet and stimulants and medicines I made a most thorough and searching trial, and as a result, managed my body so that I could get the