Connecticut western news., 1902-04-17
GREAT SERMONS AT SEVENTY.


 intellectual vigor so long. Even those
 who knew him best coul1 detect no diminution in the force of his elo- quence and no dimming of the luster of his splendid periods though he had turned seventy. His last sermons were every whit as brilliant as those he con- posed when in his prime. His eye was as clear his voice as flexible and reso
 nant and his step as elastic as though
 he were not nearing that border land where burdens are laid down" Those
 last few golden years were in some re
 spects the happiest of his life. Though
 they were busy years, they still left
 him some leisure. In the summer
 which he usually passed at his beauti-
 full country home at Easthampton, N.
 Y., he did an immense amount of liter
 ary work. He was a most agreeable
 host and could recall with photograph ic fidelity scenes and events long pass
 ed, delighting his guests with such
 "reminiscences. He was the personal
 friend of many leading Americans of the preceding half century, and his rec ollections of presidents, statesmen, au-
 thors and other eminent people were
 full of interest. Few men possessed
 the ability to tell story so entertain ingly. He had the keenest sense of hu-
 nor and frequently set his audience in roar by his droll wit and comic mim- icry. But 1t was always good humored,
 and his wit, like a buttoned foil, had a
 point that hurt nobody. A master of
 invective, he was kindly at heart and
 never Quarrelsome. Once when he was
 asked why he allowed attacks upon
 him to pass unheeded he answered
 with a characteristic story:
 THE FATE OF THE FLY.
 When I was preaching my first ser
 mon, on hot summer Sunday, I had
 just given out the text and had hardly opened my mouth for the first sen-
 tence of my discourse when In popped hy. could hear him hopping around in my mouth and buzzing like all pos
 sessed. A cold sweat broke out all
 over me. felt him back in my throat.
 I glared at the audience. They were
 looking at me expectantly. felt that the crisis of my life had arrived and that l must act at once. Through my hot brain flashed the thought, Shall gag and spit out the intruder and make a spectacle of myself before these peo- pie who are waiting for the sermon and thus very likely spoil the effect of 1t and ruin my reputation at the out set of my career or shall take the fel- low down and wrest victory from the enemy? My mind was made up on the instant. I gulped. Down went MT. Fly, to be converted into flesh and bone and muscle, and I plunged into my sermon and went through 1t with such zest and earnestness that the rows of people wh, met me at the door to shake hands declared it was the best sermon they lad ever listened to. And I've been sVs flowing flies ever since" '" he added, vi,h a droll twinkle of the eye. "Whenuver one attacks in the paper or ela,Vhere, simply say to my self: 'Here'S another fly. I'll take him down And down he goes. find it the come trifii1g obstacles which would
 only be matnified by opposition"
 TNsPIREH FROM LID TO LID."
 Dr. Talmage's doctrine was of the old fashioned orthodox type, but it fell with new attractions from his eloquent lips He believed in Bible inspired from lid to lid," and many times during
 his career he came to the front as a de fender of the integrity of the book of
 books. He repudiated the ''higher criti-
 eism' as q menace to the old religion and denounced as impious the doubts concerning miracles and inspiration. His famous attack on Ingersoll created something of sensation twenty years ago. He scored the brilliant agnostic in a series of sermons full of vigorous philippics. Often he chose as a target for his oratorical batteries the foibles and besetting sins of society, and he never spared his ammunition. He pour
 ed out broadsides on Wan street, ths | saloons, gamblers, low politicians anC | ell who came within the range of hi! | criticism. His forceful denunciation o1 | popular vices was equaled only by hii ability to move his audience to tears oi sympathy when he chose to appeal t(
 the emotions. No preacher in century | could describe in such moving Ian l guage the charms of home, the moth | CTS love for a wayward child, the de | lights of rural life or the simple faitf | of the believer in Christ and heaven He was unquestionably within a cer tain wide range the most vivid and pic | turesque speaker the American pulpit
 has ever known, and his sermons an6 writings alike were Turneresque in lit erary color and expression. His religion was the old satisfying "corn and wine | of the gospel, which the multitudes ap
 preciated. He was always In his best | vein when facing a miscellaneous as l semblage In the great cities. He has frequently spoken before 10000 per | sons, and his great audiences at the | Academy of Music, New York; in tht | Chicago Auditorium and in London Liverpool and Glasgow have rarely
 been equaled in point of numbers. Hs | delighted, too, in an audience of farm
 CTS. Such gatherings never failed tc
 comprehend his homely doctrines.
 He used to say that he had long since lived down" the frills and nonessen.
 tials of religion. "At twenty" he would
 explain, T believed several hundred
 things; at fifty believed about a score
 but now, with clearer vision, as grow older and come nearer the close of the | journey, I hold only to three things as | vital-that God our Father loves us far better than we know, that Jesus Christ his Son, is our Redeemer and Saviour | and that I am sinner, enriched by his grace, though all unworthy"
 FOND OF RELIGIOUS LITERATURE. All his life he was inordinately fond
 of religious literature. Even in child. hood he would read Scott's Commenta.
 rles, a bulky volume. when he was too
 small to sit upon a chair and had to
 use a stool instead. If he could have
 mastered even a single foreign lan-
 guage, he would probably have become | missionary like his brothers. but he