Staunton vindicator. [volume] (Staunton, Va.) 1860-1896, 1874-07-31
THE LESSON OFTO-DAY.

The hot July sun seems to have blister
ed the country WITH church scandals, and
peaceful parsons, instead of their usual
pleasuring at the watering places, are at
home in the sultry cities, wrestling in the
tolls Of investigating committees under
the bright glare of popular Indignation,
but slightly tempered by the refreshing
shade of the sympathy of personal friends.
AS faithful chronicler of the times, and
not being among the moral sniysllers who
are afraid to look the age in which they
live in the face, we have given full his
tory of them. If these things are without
their lesson, then the Great Scandals in
the Bible, greater than any OF our day are
there without purpose, a proposition
that we think will find few advocates
among sane people. About the Beecher-
Tilton case. we confess to being sorely
puzzled. 1t is so out of the usual way. All
the parties to it have such a vein of mental
kinship running through all they think
and say and do, making them all so like
each other and so unlike the rest Of the
world-such haze of higher law sentl-
mentalism enveloping them all, that it
gives common people a sense of unftness
to sit OH the jury which is to judge them;/
If it were those people we meet every day
in life there would be no trouble aboutthe
verdict with the evidence before U.S. Mr..
Reecher's life has not been against him.
THE greatest popular preacher in the
world, of fine personal appearance, fiatter-
ed by men aaad>adored by women from his
i, first appearance in the pulpit a-quarter OF
a-century ago, he has passed sixty years OF
age before the breath OF scandal has DIM
med the bright surface of his reputation.
Just now it may be the fashion to say that
he has always been wolf in sleeps cloth
ing. If he has been, then all the out
ward signs of Christianity fail. No man
who has read his sermons-we do not
mean the garbled extracts prefaced by I'M
friendly comments generally published III
the South, but his sermons entire, is like
" to believe that he has been hypocrite.
That he may have fallen is bitter and
sorrowful probability, but that his has
been life of hypocricy is hardlya apos-
sibility. The evidence in the case is not
in his favor. Somehow the world, which
has accorded many privileges to men of
his profession demands, that their acquittal
when even suspected, shall be triumphant.
Mr. Beecher has not been fortunate
enough, if innocent, to secure this. Time,
that true friend of the innocent, may
bring him some reinforcement, but to-day,
in the light of the facts, he stands undone
so far as his usefulness and peace, and he
hopes of his friends are concerned. How
much this undoing has cost him nc man
save himself can tell. Could there be
greater agony than he thus portrays in Il
letter to Moulton Pm othing can posi-
bly, be so bad as the power of great dark
ness in which / spend much of nay time
I look upon death as sweeter far than any
friend have in the world. Life would be
pleasant if I could see that rebuilt which
is shattered. But to live on the sharp and
ragged edge Of anxiety, remorse, fear, de-
spair, and yet to put on an appearance OF
serenity and happiness. cannot be endured
much longer' And then hear him paint
that have church Oh my hands is sim
ple enough, but to have the hundreds and
thousands of men pressing me, each one
with his keen suspicion or anxiety OF zeal;
to see the tendencies which if not stopped,
would break out into ruinous defense OF
me to stop them without seeming to dc
it; to prevent any one questioning me; to
meet and allay prejudices against L. which
had their beginnings years before ; to keep
serene as if [ was not alarmed and dis
turbed; to be cheerful at home and among
friends when | was suffering the torments
of the damned to pass sleepless nights
often, and yet to come up fresh and fair
for Sunday-all this may be talked about,
but the real thing cannot be understood
from the outside, nor it's wearing and
grinding on the nervous system. -
How true it is that no man is so utterly
alone as he whose only companion is Il
guilty conscience, He might well call
death friend.
OF Theodore Tilton there is little to say;
he has said so much for himself. II he is
not insane then he las, after mature prep
aration and dressing for his part, come up
on the stage in character for which the
world has not words adequate to express
it's contempt. That lie is not Kissed off is
rather because the audience are curious to
see how the play will end, than that they
are not disguised with the action of the
player. And yet though he has turned the
stomach OF the world, he still stands speak
ing his higher law lines, utterly uncon-
scious of the effect he has produced.
For the Delilah who has shorn this pull
pit Sampson of his locks we have yet to
see one word of sympathy. A woman of
strong intellect, cultivated mind, used to
fashionable society, which has never yet
been accounted guileless, past the impul
sive period of youth and the mother OF
children. she has none Of the excuses with
which men, with maudlin chivalry, hasten
to palliate the sins Of lustful women, and
she has excited the angry Indignation of
the world rather than its pity. The
moral which stands out most prominently
in her history is that: the married woman
who transfers the secrets of her heart
from her husband to any other man, con-
nected with her only by official ties, for
mediation OF arbitration has taken her
first step toward the court of Cleopatra,
and will not have long to wait the coming
of an Antony.
The whole story teaches an impress ;ive
lesson. 1t is vivid flash of warning
across the paths of all who may be drag
ging their anchors in the harbor of a viz
tuous life, showing that outside, on the