The Portland daily press., 1874-08-14

and keeping silence concerning the evil things
which was assured and believed had been
greatly exaggerated by public report l could
| not think him so bad as my friends did /
trusted to the germs of good which thought
| still lived in him-to Mr.. Moulton's apparent
power over him, and the power of my persis-
| tent self-sacrihce.
Mr.. Moulton came to me at first as the school
| mate and friend of Mr.. Tit0n, determined to
reinstate him. 1 always suspected without re-
care to my interests, bat on further acqnaint-
ance with me, undertook and promised to serve
MS friend without doing wrong to me. He
| said he saw clearly how this was TO be done SO
as TO restore pc ace and harmony to MIR. Tiltons
nome and bring happy end of all misunder-
standing Many things which he cohnseled L
| absolutely refused but l never doubted his
professed friendship for me. After the friend
| snip had grown up between US, and whatever
| he wished me to do did unless it seemed to
me wrong My confidence in him was the on
| ~ element that seemed secure in that confusion
| OF tormenting perplexities To him L wrote
freely in this troubous time when | felt that
secret Vaccinations were going ON around me-
and echoes of the vilest ISLANDERS concerning
me were heard in unexpected quarters
WI hen some OF my near relatives were set
against me and that tattle of crowd of ma
liclous women, hostile to me on other grounds
were borne to my ears-when l had lost the
last remnant of faith in Theodore or hope for
him-when heard with unspeakable remorse
that everything had done to stay his destruc-
my attempt to keep him from public trial
Involving such flow of scandal as had now
been let loose, had been used by him to bring
up new troubles-that his unhappy wife was
under his dictation signing papers and recanta-
lions and L know not what-that in short
everything was breaking up and the desIruc-
ton from which l had sought to save the
family, was likely to be implied on other fami-
lies, the church and community with inf ute
horror and woe for me-that my own inno-
cence was buried under heaps and heaps of
rubbish and nobody but my professed friend,
ii even he could save his, to his assurances that
he could still do so much faith as to maintain
under these terrible trials, the silence which he
enjoyed
Not until Tilton having accepted, through
Frank Carpenter, the offer to raise money from
many friends, openly assaied me in my letter
to DR.. Bacon, did break that silence, save by
simple denial of the scandalous rumors
against me year before.
When, on the appearance of the first open
attack from Tilton, | Immediately, without
consulting Moulton, called for thorough in
vestlgation with committee of my church. l
am not responsible for the delay, the publicity
OF the details of that investigation All the
harm which have so long dreaded and have
50 earnestly striven to avoid, has come to pass.
could not further prevent it without a full
surrender of honor and truth.
The time has arrived when I can freely
speak in vindcation of myself. labor under
great disadvantages in making statement.
MY memory of the status of the mind is clear
and tenacious, better than my memory of dates
and details.
During four troubled years, in all of which
have been singularly burdened with public
labor, having established and conducted the
Christian Uniou, delivered courses of lectures
/ before the Theological Seminary of Yale Col
lege, written the Life of Christ, delivered
lyceum lectures in all the North and West,-all
these duties, with the care of great church
and ITS outlying schools and chapels and the
miscellaneous business which falls upon
Clergyman more than upon any other public
man.
have never Kept details in regard to this
matter and now with the necessity of explain.
ing actions and letters resulting from the com
pick influences apparent at the time find
myself In position where | know my inno-
cence without being able to prove it with
detailed explanations.
am one upon whom trouble works inward
ly, making me outwardly silent, but reverber
atIng in the chambers of my saul, aud when at
length l do speak, it is a pent up flood and
p0urs with measure or moderation. inherit a
tendency to feeling that remains in me of a
positive hypochondiae as in my father and
grandfather and in certain moods of reaction.
the world becomes black aud L see very de-
pIeSSingly.
If were in such moods to speak as feel, L
should give false colors and exaggerated pro-
portions to everything. This manifestation is
III such contrast to the hopefulness which ex.
perienced in ordinary times that none but those
intimate with me would suspect one SO full of
OVERLOOKING spirit and eager gladsomeness to
have within him source of gloom. Some of
my letters to Mr. Moulton reflect this morbid
feeling. He understood it and at times earn
estly reprOved me for INDUCING in it With
this preliminary review, proceed with my mar
ratve.
Mr. Tilton was first known to me as re-
porter OF my sermons He was then youth I
just from school aud working en- the New York
observer. From this paper he passed to the
!ndepenpent and became great favorito with
Mr.. Bowen. When, about 1861, Das. Bacon,
Storrs and Thompson resigned their places, /
became editor of the independent to which l
had been from the start contributor.
One of the inducements held out to me was
that Mr.. Tilton should be my assistant and re-
lieve me wholly from routine office work. In |
this relation L became very much attached to |
him. We used to stroll together to print shops |
aud dine often together. His mind was open
ing freshly and with enthusiasm upon all |
questions; used to pour olt my ideas of civil |
affairs, public policy, religion and philanthropy
VI this he has often spoken with grateful ap- |
probation and mourned at later day over its |
ceS 5atior.
August was my vacation month, but nv |
family repaired to my farm in June and July, |
ana remained there during September and |
October, my labors co1fning me to the city. l |
took my meals in families of friends, and from
year to year became so familiar with their |
children and houses that went in and out daily |
to this habit and urged me to do the same bv |
his house. -
He would often speak in extravaganza terms |
OF his wltes estee n and affection for me. At |
ter began to visit his house he sought to make |
1T attractive. He urged me to bring my pa
peIs down there to use his study to do my |
writing in it as it was not pleasant to write at |
the office of the Independent.
When went to England in 1868 Mr.. Triton |
took temporary charge of the sIndepcndent |
On my return found the way for him to take |
the whole charge of it, my name remaining |
for year and then he becoming the response |
editor.
Friendly relations continued till 1856. when |
the violent assaults m ade upon me by Tilton |
in the Independent on account of my Cleye- |
land letter and the temporary discrimination |
OF the publication of my sermons in that paper |
broke OFF my continuation with it, although |
Mr.. Hilton remained personally on good terms |
yet there was GOODNESS between us in all mat |
tiers of politics. |
Our Sc cial relations were very kindly, and as |
late 1869 at his request, sat to Page some 30
met and talked with Mouton, whose wife was |
member of Plymouth Church, though he |
was not member even a regular atten- |
dant. During this whole period L never |
of his family the slightest hint that there was |
any dissatisfaction with my familiarity with |
his household as late, L think, as the winter of |
1869, when going upon an extended lecturIng |
tour he said, Il wish you would look in and |
see that Liobey is not lonesome or does want |
anything" or words to that effect.
[Forewarned that Mr. Beechers statement |
would be sent to the press last night, we made |
arrangements to place before our readers as |
large part of the interesting disclosure as
was received at Boston, but partly on account |
OF the storm, but mainly on account of an in
efficient operator at Boston, we are unable to |
present but small part of what we would had |
not the delay been beyond our control.-ED.1