Brooklyn, N.Y., November, 1852
. . . We reached Norwich at nine and took the steamer; and here, better
still, appeared Henry Ward Beecher. I sat by him and read “Bleak House” in the
cabin, and at last, when he moved to go to bed, I introduced or recalled myself
to him. “Oh, yes,” said he heartily, “bless your soul, I remember you”;
and so we talked until twelve o'clock: chiefly about Wasson and churches
generally. He defended pews (to be rented, not owned) and said some very
sensible things in their defence, of which I had never thought before. He was
very cordial — wished me to know Reverend Mr. Storrs of Brooklyn, his associate
in the “Independent,” and said I must come to tea with him on Monday and Mr. S.
should come also. . . .
[Charles] Dana was at his office, much changed from his former brown
and robust self, pale, thin, and bearded; but seemed very content, though
rather tired; said he could endure much more labor in that way than any other.
He had a good deal of his old dogmatism. . . . Mr. Ripley was there, fat and
uninteresting.
George Curtis pleased me far better. He seemed very cordial and not at
all foppish. His voice and manner are extremely like Mr. Bowen (Reverend C.
J.). . . . The likeness kept recurring to me as I sat in his pretty study, full
of books and engravings. . . . He has written two perfectly charming essays on
Emerson and Hawthorne for the lovely illustrated “Homes of American Authors”; a
most racy and charming picture of Concord and its peculiar life. I read these
at the bookstore afterward with great delight.
. . . I learned one good fact; that the arms of the Wentworths are three
cats' heads, which explains my tendencies [fondness for milk].
This evening I have been to H. W. Beecher's church. It is wonderful —
an immense church and every seat crowded — far beyond Theodore Parker's. Double
rows of chairs in the aisles and such attention. He preached almost entirely
extempore and it was like his lectures; no eloquence of thought, or little, but
much eloquence of feeling; intense, simple earnestness; no grace, no condensation;
no moderation or taste in delivery; and very little to remember. I do not think
I should go to hear him often, or it would be more for the magnetism of the
congregation than anything else. I think him far less impressive intellectually
than Mr. Parker, with whom one naturally compares him.
SOURCE: Mary Potter Thacher Higginson, Editor, Letters and
Journals of Thomas Wentworth Higginson, 1846-1906, p. 45-6
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