The Republican., 1892-10-14
HENRY WARD BEECHER.
How the Great Preacher Read His 81
tors "Uncie Toms Cabin"


How the Great Preacher Read His Sis
ter's "Uncie Toms Cabin"
was talking with Mrs. Henry Ward.
Beecher a few evenings ago, says a
writer, and the conversation happened
to turn on Uncle Toms Cabin" 1,
asked her if Mr.. Beecher had ever ex-,
pressed an opinion of his sisters famous
book. and she told me this interesting
story of how the famous preacher read
the story:
''When the story was first published
in the National Era, in chapters, all
our family, except Mr.. Beecher, looked
impatiently for it's appearance each.
week. But, try as we might, we could
not persuade Mr.. Beecher to read it or
let us tell him anything about it
"'It's folly for you to be kept in con-
slant excitement week after week. he
would say. i shall wait till the work
is completed, and take it all at one
dose
"When the work was finished the
book came to Mr.. Beecher on the morn
ing of a day when he had a meeting on
hand for the afternoon and speech to
make in the evening. The book was
quietly laid one side, for he always
scrupulously avoided everything that
could interfere with or retard work he
was expected to do. But the next day
was free day. Mr.. Beecher rose even
earlier than usual and as soon as dressed
began to read Uncle Toms Cabin
When breakfast was ready he took the
book with him to the table, and reading
and eating went on together but speak
ing never word. After morning
prayer he threw himself on the sofa,
forgot everything but his book, and
read uninterruptedly till dinner time.
Though evidently beginning to be in
tensely interested, for long time he
controlled any marked indication of it;
but before noon / knew the storm was
gathering that would conquer self-con-
troll, as it had done with us all. He
frequently gave way to his pocket
handkerchief to use one of his old
humorous remarks, in most vigorous
manner. could not refrain in return
for his teasing me for reading the work
weekly, from saying demurely, as l
passed him once: You seem to have a
severe cold. How could you have taken
it?' But what did l gain? Not even a
half annoyed shake of the head, or q
semblance of smile. might as well
have spoken to the Sphinx.
when reminded that the dinner bell
had rung he rose and went to the table,
still with his book in his hand. He
cly al ha r,,h
voice, which showed the intense excite
ment under which he was la boring. We
were alone at the table and nothing to
abstract his thoughts. He drank his
coffee, ate but little, and returned to
his reading, with no thought in indulg-
ing in his usual afternoon nap. Evil
dences of almost uncomfortable excite
ment in the form of half-suppressed
sobs were frequent.
"Mr. Beecher was never rapid
reader was getting uneasy over the
marks of great feeling and excitement,
and longed to have him finish the book.
Icould see that he entered into the whole
story, every scene, as if it was being
acted right before him, and he himself
was the sufferer He had always been
a pronounced abolitionist, and the story
he was reading reused all he had felt on
that subject intensely.
''The night came on. 1t was growing
late, and felt compelled to urge him
to retire. Without raising his eyes
from the book he replied:
Soon, soon; you go, I'll come soon.'
''Closing the house l went to our
room, but not to sleep. The clock
struck 12, l, 2, 8, and then, to my great
relief, heard Mr.. Beecher coming up
stairs. AS he entered he threw Uncle
Toms Cabin on the table, exclaiming:
There; I've done it! But if Harriet
Stowe ever writes anything more like
that Tll-well, she has nearly killed
me, anyhow!
"And he never picked up the book
from that day. Weekly Journalist.