The New York Herald Newspaper, August 14, 1874, Page 4

4 —$—$—$—$— and that he had never strayed from the ‘of virtue, Which preservation he Cy he | me in @ narrative 01 his life, to & vel an | ne with bis iather, Whe, on eae br ear | home, pointed out to amo: temptations and snares, the evils to | San S ON unli wa) 4 scene. I was glad to a tert how hard it was that he sho 22 aut doe testimony whieh had. been some mor oe bat there is undoub! to Jaianaee | Sag aes a Cee = reduuity, and Wi e of the ay Ld call their well devervedridicule, rr N DI9/ BUSTING THEODORE AND MOULTON. ( Mr. Moalton lost no occasion of presenting to i me the kindest view of Mr. Tilton’s character and | ‘conduct. On the other hand, he complained that | ‘Mra, Tiiton did not trust ber husband or ant id not assist Nim in his great effort to help Theo- dore. 1 knew that she distrusted Moulton, and | fei¢ bitterly) burt by the treatment of husband, I was urged to ler view of Theodore. Accordingly, at the jnetance of Mr, Moulton, three letters were writ- en on she same day, February 17, 1871, on one joommon purpose—to be snown io Mrs. Tilton and to ‘reconcile her to her husband—and my letter to her | “ that Gate was designed to effect the further or | lateral pur} of giving her confidence in Mr. | Moulton. will be obvious from the reading of | time fn pul NEW YORK HERALD, FRIDAY, AUGUST 14, 1874.—TRIPLE SHEET, ip 80 doing orgreaty e assent to her doctrines, copectany to the marriage relation, upon Ww. point she was beg! to be more explicit, in opposition to the views which 1, in common with ali Christian men, entertained; bat it was plausibly urged that 1 couid preside at her lecture, and introduce her ar the ample ground of advocatiug tree speech and liberty of debate. HE ABHORS FERE LOVE. But as I understood that she was about to avow Goctrines which I abhor, 1 would not be induced by this plausible argument to give her public coun- Tenance, and, after continuing to urge me up to | the very day of the meeting without any distiact | threats, but with the obvious intimation that my personal safety would be better secured by taking this advice, Mr, Tilton himself went over to New York and presided at the meeting, where Mrs. Woodhull gave vent, as Funderstand, for the burst to @ {all exposition of her free love doctrines. TILTON AND MOULTON HUMILIATE HIM. ‘The very thought that J should have been asked, under any circumstances and upon any excuse, to preside or be present at such a meeting was inex- pressibly galling to me. Whatever astonisl Ment might have been at the motive of Mr, Tilton and Mr, Moulton in asking such a thing (as to | which I had not at the time so clear @ perception as now have), the request waa, nevertheless, & humiliating one. AN UNCLEAN OTRCLE. At about the same time I found that the circle of which Mra. Woodbull formed @ part was the centre of loathsome scandals, organized, classi- fled and Py dene with @ greedy and unciean appetite for everything tiat was {oul and vile. THE FREE LOVERS AND KEFORMEBS. { @he letters, The iollowing is the full text of my Jevters of that date from a copy verified by one of | our committee, for I have not to this hour been Permitted to see the originals either of them or of any other papers which | had deposited with Moul- von for aaie keeping :— .. TILTON. BEECHER TO MRS. TH aaa KLYN, My Dean Wns. Tror—When I saw you las I did not ‘expect ever to see you again, or to be alive many days. | God was kinder to me than were my own thoughts ‘ihe | fiend whom God sent to me—Mr. Moulton—has proved Ree eee ene enerevacy.cl my ity. nanteaa | D me In this terrible emergenc 4 it was that hed-ap the storm that was ready to burst jon our hea When not the less disposed to. trust him, from finding hat he has your welinre. most deeply and tenderly at | Wart” You have no friend (Theodore excepted) wito has at in his power to serve you so vitally and who willdo | uue so much delicacy and honor. 1 ecb of you, | if my wishes have yet any influence, let _my deliberate uugment in this matter weigh with you. it does iy fore heart good to vee in Me.» Moulton an unfeigned re | syoat and homor for you. Tt would kill me if’he thought erwise. He will be as true a friend to vour honor and happiness asa brother would be to 4 sister. | in hun we Bave a common ground. You und I may | Yneet in kim, ‘The past is ended. Butis there no tuare— | holier futuret’ May not this iriend priest in the new, sanctuary of reconeiliation | fe apd bless you, Theodore and. ty most un- happy Do not let my earnestness full of its end. You belicve in my Judgment. 1 have put inyself wholly and gisdiyin Moulton's hands, and there 1 must mect ou, with Theotore’s consent, but he has not you return it to me, by bis bands? jor all our sakes, igueh a letter ought pot to be subjécted to even a chan ol miscarriage. unhappy i. W. BEECHER, | BEECHER TO MOULTOY, | fsenvany 7, "71. | Bir pean Mn. Mocttom—I.am glad to send you & book | “whieh you will re! which @ man ol sick be ought to relish, Twish T bad more like at and that 1} could sena you one every day, not as & repayment of | This is sont adi. Will Tam very earnest in this wish, ‘our great kindness to me, for tnat can never | id, not even by love, which I give you many triends ‘has God raised’ up | ‘eely. ry 10 me; but te bo one of them has he ever given the op- pf and the wisiom so to serve me as you have. | trast in you is implicit. You have also proved sel Theodufe’s friend. and Elzaveth’s. Does God look down from heaven on three unhappy creatures that more need a triend than theser Is it Dot an intimation of God’s intent of mercy to all that each one of these ip nk and = proved —triend, | only im you are we three united. | ‘Ould to (od, who orders all hearts, that by your media: | dion Theodore, Blizabeth and I could be made frienas again! Theodore will have the hardest task in such a has he not proved himself capable of the Elizabeth knows how generously he has «carried toward me. Of course I can never speak with her again, except with his permission, and | 1 do not know that even then it would be’ best. ‘My earnest longing is, to see her in the fuil sympathy ef ner uature, atrest ig him, and to see him once more trusting her and loving her with even @better than the | old love. 1 aim always sad im such thonghts, es oc citi a HENRY WARD BEECHER, | BEECHER’S THEORY OF HIS SUDDEN DEATH. | I have no recollection of seeing or hea read the letter to Mr. Tilton of the same date, In my letter 10 Mra. Tilton | aliuded to the fact that I did not expect when | saw her last to be alive many davs. That statement stands connected With a series Of symptoms which I first experienced in 1856, 1 went through the Fremont campaign, speaking ip the open air three hours at a time three daysin the week. On renewing my liter- ary labors 1 felt I m have Ping way, | and 1 very seriously ent it 1 was | going to have apoplexy or paralysis, or something of tue kind. On two or three occasions while reaching I should have fallen in the pulpit li 1 Pea not held to the table. Very often I came near | failing tu the streets, During the last fifteen years Thave gone into the pulpit I suppose 100 times with a very strong impression that I should never come out o/ It alive. Ihave preached more ser- mons than any human being would believe, when | Itett ali the while that whatever I had got to say | to my people I must say it then, or I never would | bave another chance to ase it, | Ii If bad consulted a physician ms first | advice would have been, “You must stop | work.” But I was in such a@ situation I_ could not stop work. I read the best medica! books on symptoms of nervous pros- | tration and overwork and paralysis, and formed my own judgment of my case. The three points 1 marked were—l mast have good digestion, good | sleep, and | must go on werking. These three | uhings were to be reconciled; and in regard to my | diet and stimulants and medicines I made the most thorough and searching trial, and, as the re- sult, managed my body so that I could get the | most work out o1 it without essentially impairing | it. if 1 had said a word about this to my family it would have brought snch distress and anxiety on the part of my wite as I could not bear. | J have for many years so steadily taxed wy mind | to the utmost that there have been periods when 1 could not afford to have people express even sym. | patby with me. To have my wife or friends Anxious about it, and showing it te me would be | ust the drop too much. In 1863 I came again into | he same condition just pefore going to England, i and it was one of those reasons why I was willing togo, The war was at its height. Icarried my | country in my heart. [ had the in | charge, and was working, preaching and lecturing | continuaily. 1 knew J was likely to be prostrated again. THE SHOCK OF THR TROUBLE. | In vecember, 1870, the sudden shock of these | troubles vrougbt on again these symptoms in a | more violent iorm. | I was very wuch depressed in mind, and afl the more because it Was one of those things that 1 coaid not say anything about; I was silent with everybody. During the last four years these symp- toms had been repeatedly brought on by my | intense work, carried lorward on We underlying basis of 30 mach sorrow and trouble. My Sriends | will bear witness that in the puipit I have very | irequently alluded to my expectation of sudden death. I feel that I have more than once already | een near a stroke that would have killed or paralyzed me, and i carry with me pow, as I have #0 often carried in years velore this trouble began, the daily thought of death, as a door which might oven jor mé at any moment out o1 all cares and labors into more Welcome rest. | VERY ANXIOUS DURING 1871, | Daring the whole of the year 18711 was kept in | & state O/ suspense and doubt, not only as w the | future of the family jor the reunion and happiness of which | had striven so earnestly, but aiso a8 to the degree to which | might personally be subject | to attack and misconstruction and the troublegive | brought into the chorch and magnified by pub- | Hetty. ‘The officers of the church sougpt to inves- ugal Mr. Titton’s reitgious views and moral couduct, ana on the latter point I had been ae- | f ceived into a belief that he was not in fault. As to the religious views, I still hoped for a change for | the better, as it was proposed to drop tim from | ‘the list of members for non-attendance, and as he asserted to me bis withdrawal, this migat have | been done ; but his wife still attended tne church and noped for his restoration. 1 recollect having with | him @ conversation in which he dimly intimated | to me that he thought it not unlikely that he might go back into his old position. He seemed tobe in @ mood to regret the past. And so, when | I was urged by the Examining Committee to take iteps, ‘{ said I am not without hopes that, by nce and kindness, Triton will come back in into his old charch work and be one of us azain.”’ I therefore delayed a decision upon this point tor &long time. Many of our members were anxious ana impatient, and there were many tokens of trouble from this quarter. Meanwhile | one wing of the female sui party had got nold of the story in a distorted and exesgerated ley uch as had never been intimated to me by | Mr. Titon or his iriends. aid not | tuen suspect what I now know, that | these atrociously false rumors originated with Mr. Tilton himself. I oply saw the evil grow- lng, instead of diminishing, and perceived that whue I was fone ony to silence and, therefore, could not speak in my own defence, some one was lorever persevering in faisehood, growing conuina- y in dimensions, and these difficulties were im- tensely increased by the aMliation of Mr, Tilton | 2 qith the Woodhall clique. MRS. WOODHULL COMRS ON THE SCENR. Tn May, 1871, Mrs. Woodhull advertised a forth- coming article, shadowing an account of the dis- | turbance in MF. Tilton’s amily, but witnows asi ames. It was delayed ostensibly by Mr. ‘Tiiton’s jafuence with Mrs, Woodhull until Novemeer, 1872. During this suspension of her puvlication she be- Came the heroine of Mr. Moulton and Mr. Tilton, Bhe was made welcome to both houses, with the @oleration but not the cordial consent of their wives. I heard the most extravagant eulogies in her. Bhe was represented as 4 genius, born reared among be ood Insvences, but only ed to be surrounded by refined sogted to id not though my iinpressions | re untevorable, character was not then | known to the world, I met ner three times. At | Eretons, &$ the second | a have at the third sh 16 Wi ranvanian, eh 1 had peremptory re. itu Be orn died oo to | ve at Stem wi i. 0 mos! and Mr Me forte , Tilton and Mr, Moolton | seh ean to presiae at lectare | noble and commending nature. wei mach about her, and ber real | graves of their friends, were raked over to furnisn | | me. Whenever he met rebufls and was in pe- | cuntary trouble he scowled thr: | the nope which you breathe | church on my hands is simples enough, | hundreds and thousands of men pressing { ye with his keen suspic! jamin | np tresh’ ai The moment that any one, whether man or | woman, became noted as a reformer or attained auy degree of eminence oaone the advocates of liberal sentiments, it seemed as if those who clatmed a monopoly of reform selected such per- sons as the special victims of charges and filthy sianders. I was by no means the only clergyman who was made the text for their private gossip, while 1 seemed as if no woman otf any distinction in the land was left out of this pool of adal, All the history of their past lives, and even the material and pretext for their loathsome Ialse- | hoods. It was inexpressively disgusting to me, end I would not associate with these | people. Yet Mr. Tilton and Mr. Moulton had some strange theory concerning the management of this particular affair, which always made it, in their | judgment, necessary tor them to maintain iriendly | relations with the group of human hyenas. From this circie, and from Mr, Tilton’s intimate associa- tions with it, many ramors and suspictons arose among my Own congregation, which led them to press me with questions and to originate Investi- | gations, especially into the affairs of Mr. Tilton, from whom alone, as they generally believed, the | rumors against me originated. in this | was constantly and venementiy assured by Mr. Moul- | ton that they were mistaken, and yet their zeal in my delence made them impatient of my silence and anxious to deal in a summary manner with Mr. Tilton. Had I allowed them to do this, it was | obvious that Mr. Tilton would have been greatly | enraged ; that all nis former unjust suspicions of me would tave been confirmed and that he would | have had every motive which was necessary to in- duce him to break up the peace between us and to Make some such public attack upon me as ne has finally made. < against bim; that I was allowing him to be traduced without coming generously to the front to defend him, and that bs 4 | friends were working against him; to which replied that, unless the laws of mind were changed, not Almighty God himself could lift lim into favor if these women must be lifted with him. Nevertheless, I sought in every way to restore | peace end concord to the tamily, which I was made to feel had been injured by me, and was de- pendent on my influence for recovery. TILTON’S GARBLED BXTRACTS OF LETTERS. But one thing was constant and apparrent. | When Theodore, by lecturing or otherwise, was prosperous he was very genial and affectionate to BEECHEB'S | teningly upon me as the author of bis troubles, And Moulton himself seemed at t1mes to accuse me of inail- ference to Tilton’s misfortunes. though it may pe that a part of these events ha! pened shortly afterward, that in a thoroughly | worried and depressed mood, discouraged by the apparent hopelessness of extracting Lilton from hus diMcnities, or of saving his family trom the bugnt which he has since fastened upon it, with even more destructive ct upon its members than I then teared, I wrote a letter to Mr. Moulton, of which Mr. Tilton has given extracts, even more wickedly garbied than his | other quotations; tor he has represented two ex- tracts from this ietter as constituting points of | two separate letters, and has artially given the | impression that they Were written in or alter June, a) whereas this letter was dated February 6, 8 He further says that this letter was written for ‘the purpose of being shown to him. I had no idea of such @ thtug being done, as the letcer shows | Plainly enough upon its face, and did not autho- Tize apy Buch use Of that letter, which was sup- posed by me to be written and received most | sacredly. This letter was as follows, as 1am now | iniormed:—‘‘An inspection of the original would | coubtiess refresh my memory concerning the cir- cumstances; but this Mr. Moulton denies to me.’’ | | scandalous accusations pate my Western trip, where I may be alone with bim, exceedingly. THE TRIPARTITE AGREEMENT, I now come in my narrative to give an it of the origin of the somewhat famous tripartite agreement. Shortly after the foregoing letter was written Mr. Tilton returned to the oi! discouraged with the result of his leotariag ‘The Golden Age, which had then been establisned for about tweive months, had not succeeded and ‘was understood to be losing AnST: is pecaniary ovligations were beooune. although bis claim against Bowen tor the violation of fis two contracts had a year previously been put under the exclusive control of Moulton, with @ view of settlement, bad not as yet been effected, THE BOWEN CHARGES. About this time Mr. Moulton, who was aick, sent for me and showed me & galiey proof of an article prepared by Mr, Tuton for the ‘Age (and Which has since been published in the Brooklyn Papers), in which he embodiea a copy of a letter written by him to Mr. Bowen, dated January 1, 1871, im which he Charged Mr. Bowen with making jainst my moral char- acter. ‘This was the first time that I had ever seen these charges, aud | had never heard of them, ex- cept by mere rumor, Mr, Bowen never having at any time said @ word to me on the subject. | was amazed at tus proposed publication. I aid not pee understand the real object of giving circu- ation 40 such slanders. My first impression was that Mr. Tilton designed, under cover oi an attack upon me in the name of another, to open the way for @ pablication of bis own pretended personal rievances, 1 protested against the publication in ‘he strongest terms, but was iniorjed that it was not intended asa hostile act to myself but to Mr. Bowen, 1 did not any the less insist upon my protest against this publication. On its bein, showed to Bowen, he was pocrougaay alarmed, @nd speedily consented to the appointment of arbitrators to bring avout an amicable settlement. ‘The resalt of this proceeding was that Mr. Bowen paid Mr. Tilton over $7,000, and that a writtea a@greement Was entered into by Bowen, Tilton aud mysell 01 amnesty, concord and jut peace. It was agreed that the offensive article, the pubitca- tion ol which had produced such an effect upon Mr. Bowen and secured a happy settlement, should be destroyed without seeing light. It was an aot of treachery, peculiarly baye, that this article was lagen to get into hands which would ensure 6 publication, and hat it was published. I was assured that avery vestige of it had heen de. etroyed. Nor until a comparatively recent period did | understand bow Mr, Tilton secured ite pub- lication without seeming to be himself responsible jor the deed. TILTON AND THE WOODHULL WOMEN, Finally, alter vainly attempting to obtain money both from mysel! and my, wife ag the price of its suppression, the oohnil women pub- Mshed their version of the Tilton scandal in November of 1872. The details given by them were 80 minute, though so dis:orted, that suspicion was universally directed toward MF. Tilton ag tne real author of this which he so justly calls “a wicked and horrible scandal,’ though it 1 not a whit more horrible than tbat which he has now fathered, and not half so wicked, because those onge of the falsity of taeir story, ag Mr. Tilcon bas of TILTON'S TRUE STATEMENT. To rid bimseli of this incubus, Mr. Tilton drew up @ voluminous paper caled “a statement,” but which was familiarly called **Lilton’s case.” Inad some knowledge of its composition, baving heard much oi it read, but some documents are only referred to as on fle and others had not yet been manwactured. Tilton’s fever for compiling statements was one of my familiar annoyances. Moulton used to tell me that the only ‘way $0 manage Theodore was to let him work off his periodical passion on some such document and then to pounce on the document and at, particular ‘true statement” was @ special _ to abatement of the prejudices excited by his Wood- hull partnership, it was a muddle of garbled statements, manufactured documents and down- right 1alsehoods. in this paper—which I know he read to many, snd I am told shat he read it to not less than filty persons—he did not pretend to charge criminality upon bis wie; on the contrary, he explicitly denied it and asserted her parity, but charged me with improper overtures to ner, It was this paper which he read to Dr. Storrs and poisoned therewith his mind, thus leading to the attempt to prosecate Tilton in Plymouth church, the interterence of neighboring churches and the Calling of the Congregational Council. Alter the Woodhull story was published and while Mr. Til- ton seemed really desirous ior a short time of pro- tecting his wile, I sent, through him, tne following letter to her:— My Deas Mas. Tintor.—I hi that ‘would be snioided trom the knowledge ot the great, WrouE thet has been done to you, and through you to universal womanhood. I can lardly bear to speak of it ee allude to @ matter than which nothing can imagined more painiul to = pure and Womanly nature. I pray dally for you “hat ‘our fail fail not.” You yourselt know the way and the pewer of prayer. has been your Feluge in many sorrows before. He will now hold vou in His pavilion unul storm be ove: ‘+ The rain that beats down the flower to the ear! pass at length; and, the stem %, but ‘not broken, will rise again and blossom as before. very pure woman on earth eels that this wanton and un provoked axsauit y to universal womanhood. Meantime your dear children will love you with doable tenderness, and iheodot whom the shafts are huried, will bide you in his heart ot hears 1am gia that revelation trom the pit has given him a sighto! ibe danger that was before hidden by Cape appearances and promises of usefulness. Mi ce Ag 4 BEECHER TO MOULTON. | Monpay, Feb. 5, 1872. My Dean Frixwp—I leave town to-day and expect to pass through irom Philadelphia to New Haven. shall not de here until Friday. About three weeks ago I met T— in the cars, going to | —. be was kind. We taixed mach. At the end he | told me to go on with my work without the least anxi- ety. in so far as his feelings and actions were the occa- sn of apprehension. | On returning home from New Haven, where I am | three days in the week, delivering a course of lectures to the theological students, I found « note trom E., say- | ing that T. felt hard toward me and was going to vee or | write to Detore leaving for the West. She | kindly added :—“Do not be cast down; I hear this almost always, but the God in whom we trust will deliver us all suiely.’ 1 know you do and are willing abundansiy to help him, and | also know your embassassments,” These | were added words ot warning, but also of consolation, | for I belteve loved ot God, and that her prayers } for me are sooner heard than mige tor myselt or for her. | Bat it seems that a change has come to T. since I saw him in the cara Indeed, even since he has folt | more entirety the iorce of feeling in society andthe humi liations which environ his enterp: he has growingly telt that I had a power to help which I did not devel and 1 believe that you have participated in this feeling. Itis natural you should. T. is dearer to you than I cau | be. He is with yon —all ‘his trials lie open to your e: daily. But {see you but reidom, and my personal rela- | tions, endironments, necessities, limitations dangers | and perplexities you cannot see nor imagine. 111 had not | gone through this great year ot sorrow, | would not have | believed. th: yy one could pass through my experi- or sane. Ihave been the centre of three distinct circles, each each of which requires clear-mindedness aud peculiarly inventive or originatinfi power, viz.:— | 1. ‘The great church. | 2 The newspapers. | $. The book. The first i could neither get out of nor slight. The sensitiveness of so many ot ny people would have made any appearance of trouble, of any remission of force, an Occasion of alarm and notice, and have excited. where | | was important that rumors should die and everything be quieted. The newspaper I did roll | but litle except give general off," doiug directions. and in so doing 1 was continually spurred and exhorted those in interest. It could not be | helped. “The Late ot Christ,” long delayed, had locked up the capital of the firm, and was not likely to suit | them, Finished it must be. Was evér book born of such” sorrow. as that was? The interior history | or will never be written. Durmg all this ume you lite- rally were all my stay and coin/ort. | shouid have tallen on the way but tor the courage which you inspired ang ‘My vacation Was profitable. Icame back, hoping that | the’ bitterness of death was passed, but~1's troubie | brought back the cloud, with even’ severer suffering. | For, ali this tall and winter I have felt that you did not Jee) satistied with me, and that 1 seemed both to you and T. as cortenting myself with @ cautious or tiuggish | policy—wiliing to, save | mveeil bat not to risk anything for T—. 1 have in and ain probed my heart to see whether I was truly liable | toauen feeling, and the response is unequivocal that I am not. No mim can gee the aifficuities them environ | me unless he stands wi Ido, Toray that I h Ct to do it; to pre ai ecainst Theod 1 r7 ‘« before this; to keep seren, as it I was not siarmed or disturbed to be cheertully at home, and | ong Iriendf, when | was suffering the torments of the i to pam sleeplons nights offen and vet to come nd full for Sunday. All this may be talkea | thing eannot be understood trom the | aring and grinding on the nervous bout, but the ouside, nor its system. Ged ‘knows that I have brought more thought and jnagment and earnest demre into ny efforts to prepare - me for T. and &. thanever I did for myself a hondre: 01 (A, To the outside public T have never lost an opportu. nity to soren prejudices, to refute falsehoods and to ex- Cte # Kiudly awong all whom I met; J am thrown | among clergymen, public men and’ generally the Makers of ‘public opinion, and 1 have uskd ‘every Tational endeavor to repair the evils which have been | Visited upon ‘ilton, and with incre seccess, But the roots of this prejudice . The catas- trophe which precipitated him from his place cnly dis. Closed ieelings that had existed long. Neither he, por You, can be aware of the feelings of classes im society on | other grounds than late rumors. I mention this io ex- plain why I know witu absolute certainty that no mere statement, letter, testimony or affirmation will reach the root of affairs and retustate them, Time ai will, But chronic evils require chronic remedi Af my destruction would place him ali right, that Not stand in the way. T am willing to, step down and out. No one can offer more than that. I do offer. Sacrifice me without hesitation if yon can clearly see pinens and safety thereby, I do not | if Would be gained by it. I should be lestroyed but he would not be saved, and the children would have their futare clouded, In one point of view T could desire the snerifice on any in powibly be so bad as the horror of | i which 1 spend mueh of my | wpon death as sweeterfaced than | any friend I have in the world. Life would be Pleasant it cyuld see that rebuilt which is Shattered; bot to live on the sharp and rnzged edge nxzlety, remorse, fear, despair, and yet to pat on | serenity and happiness cannot be ir. i nigh discouraged. If you too. cease to trast meio Jove - am alone, [have hot another person | in the world to whom I could go. Well—to God | commit ail—whatever it may be here, it shall be well there, with dncere gtatitude for your heroic friendship and ‘with sincere affection, even though you love me not. Tam yours (taough unknowa to you), 4 The letter of Mrs. Tilton, which is hero partly | quoted i as follows: FUReDAY. Tleave for the West Monday next, Now glad I was to learn you were your own self sunday moraine! Theo dore's mind nab been hard toward you of late, mud T think he proposes an intorview with you ly Word Or note | Devore leaving home. It go be not casi down, Tear this almost always; but the God in whom we trust will deliver us ai) satel If publicly with Mra. Wood. +6 enn) Dresedted 10 me that { need Bot I | ture, im in courage in the ardvous straggie whieh he wages adversity, «nd bring him out, though | much like’ gold seven times fined. have not spoken of — myself No words could express sorrow in your oehalt, God walks in the fire by'the side of those He loves, and in heaven neither you nor Theodore nor 1 -dhali. regret the | discipline) how | hard toever it may seem now. May He restrain and turn those poor creatures who © been given over to do atl this sorrowiai harm by those who have deserved Do such treatment at their hands. I commend you to my mother’s God, iny gear friend. May His smiles bring light in darkness and tis love be a perpetual summer to you. Very truly yours, HENRY WARD BEBCHER, TILTON APTRR THE WOODHULL OUTBREAK. ‘The whole series of events, beginning with the outbreak of the Woodhall story, repeatedly brought me a terrible accumulation of anxieties and perils. Every thing that had threatened beiore now started up again with new violence, Tilton’s be- havior was once inexplicable and uncontroliable. His card to “a complaining friend’ did not pro- duce the effect he pretended to expect from It of convincing the public of his great magnanimity, Tnen his infamous article and letter to Mr. Bowen made its appearance in the Eagle It hada been suggested that the pub- lication —_of tois tripartite covenant’ would have a effect in counteracting the slanderous stories about Mrs. Tilton and myself, which Theodore projessed to disregard, but which his foolish card and the publication of that article | had done so mach to revive and render mischiev- ous. Mr. Moulton urged me to get from the gentie- men who hela the tripartite covenant @ copy of it for us, when suddenly Mr. Wilkeson came out with {ton his own responsibility. this manner I made strenuous but unavailing efforts to prevent. He had originally kepta iy of it (Everybody in this business seems have copies of everything except se!) On the appearance of that paper Theodore went into @ rage. It put him, he said, in & ‘alse position” betore the public, and he | said he would pubiisn another card giving @ state- ment something \ike what he afterwards wrote to Dr. Bacon—that is, a8 1 recollect the matver, de- ciaring that I had committed an offence and that he had been the magnanimons party in the bual- oe. It was necessary to decide what to do with him, onerating Theodore (as I could honestly ao) irom the authorship of the particular scandals detatled in his article to Mr. Bowen, and alluded to ia the govenant. THE ALARM SOUNDED. I said 1 would think it over and perhaps write something, covenant appeared on Friday mornirg, and the alarm Was sounded on me twmediately that Theo- dore would do something dreadful if not re- strained. On Sunday 1 had made up my mind to write to Mr. Mouiton the following letter, garbled extracts of which are given in Mr, Tilton’s statement :— DRRCHER TO MOULTON. Sonpay Moxnine, Jane 1, 1878. My Dwar Fraxe:—The whole oorth is tranquil and the heaven is serene, as Leute one Why has about finished bi» world Iie. T could do nothing on Saturday, My head was con- fused. But a good sleep tax made it like crystal. I have determined to make no more resistance. ‘Theodore’s temperament — is that fo- even if temporarily earned, wonld be absolutely worthless, filled with sorupt charges and ren- Gering me liable at any hour or day to be obliged to stal- | tity all the devices by which we saved ourselves. it is only fair that he should know that the publication of the card which he proposes would leave him fer worse off than berore. The agreement was made aiter my letter, through you, was written. He had had isa yoar. Ho had con- Goned bis wife's fault. He had enioiied upon me with the utmost earnestaes and solemuity not to be his wile nor ve nis children to @ flight. hed honestly and, earnestly joined the | pure Port them: this serdement w: je and signed by him. it was not my mak Part so that it should whol stood unquestioned and unble:ne: then {t was puplisned. Nothing but that. he did in private, when made public, excited fury, and he charges me with mai graclously pardoned by me! it act with which he was perfectly ¢ Mt, and then he cha grevions wrong home om me. ‘My mind is clear ot ti haste. Pahall welt for the public a statement that will bear the the Judgment day. God will take care of me and mine, hen J look on earth, itis deep night. When 1 look, to the heavens shove. ] see the morning breaking. Bnt ob that 1 could pot in goluen letters my seep sense of your faithful, earnest, undying fidelity. Your diainterested triendstiip. Your’ whole life, too, been to me one of God's comforters. }t is such as she that re- news a wat faiih wowanhood. No’ ik, 1 Would not have vou waste any more energy om Lopes With ench & man There is no possible for any that d pon him. Win Mawure he t know how 10 undercurrent that rales bim |; sel. With ardent afec- ‘ govern it with generous impulses, tions, he cannot iove loug him With admiration and praise; with a stro nature, he is constantly imposed ipon with the tion, A great stroke, a coup d'eau, isthe way to snccrss. sides there he hasa hundred ood things about hia, but these named waite wake him absolutely umreliabie, Theretore there is no use iv further trying Tbave s atre ig feeling tou me, and (t brings greet pamee with last Suits bin, my lant Seay and presahing iy that T am spendin my last sermon. Di am. indeed, begin the pain of life ts but lasting emai bieak ing giory, © Rood God, my beloved Frank! LOX PEN, ANA forevor hold fellowstip wie vee, jook WACK And siaiie at We Yous ving, wp “WORRIED ODT," EVEN UNTO DRATH, 1 know you do, and are willing abandantly io help him. and 1 alg know your embarraasmeaia Lanticts | There are iniimations a che beginning and end Of (hia Jetter that ft imi, the aoproach of death. sbandoned women did not have personal knowi- | | could never tree With regard to that, T refer to my previous statement cot symptoms, aud add that on this leit symptoms upon me. ‘The mata point ts I was worried out with the whole business an been to by death, of which I long tied utte dread, but Geain to the accumulation resolved to stop short and waste T conta see no of torvare ‘i but no More time Im making mateers worse. | ielt that Mr. Moulton had bester avop, and let the whole thing come ont. I determined then tomake a full and true statement, which I'now make, to leave the result with God. NOT To BRTRAY THE WOMAN. Mr. Tilton had repeatedly urged = as stated in my letter, nos to beiray his and I felt bound by every senge of honor in case jould be pressed by inquiries from my church or family as to the foundations of rumors which might reach them to keep this promise. By tus promise | meant only that I would betray the excessive affection which nis wife, as I had been told, had conceived for me and had confessed to him. It certainly did nat reler to adultery. If there had been such & fact to existence its betrayal would bave ruined me as well as her, and @ pledge not to betray my- self would have been too absurd to be mentioned in this letter. In re} to this poe which was rather than gloomy, Mr, Mot hat day, a letter of three an half sheets of copy paper. He began as Lollows:— ‘MR, MOULTON’S LETTER, My Duan Frinnp—Yon know I haye never been in sympathy with the mood ont of whieh you have oiten spoken, As you have written this morning. If the trath moust be spoxen, let it be, 1 know you can stand tf the whole case was published to-morrow, and in my opinion it shows a selfish taith in God. Having proceeded thus far Mr. Moulton seemsto have perceived that the tone of this letter was rather likely to determine me in my determina- tuon Lio nos the whole case than otherwise, and as this was opposed to the whole hne of his policy, be o1 Out, With one dash of the pencil, the whole of this and commenced. anew, writing the following iewwer:— FYRANK TO BEBOHER. Sunday, Jumo 1, 1873, Nx pean Facexo—Yoor letter maken is det sabbath of summer dark and cold, like # vault. You have nevei inspired me with courage or pone, and tt I bad listene: toyou alone my hands would have dropped helpless You in the danger to-day faced ee many times before. It y on the Ln} ic will cower and slink fou know that I have never been in aym- th absolutely abhor the unmaniy m 4 which your letter of this morning came. ‘This mood ts a reservoir of mildew. You can stand if the whole case were hed to-morrow. Ln my opin- fon it shows only a se! faith in God to go whining into heaven ii you could, with a pan tha: you are no! courageous enough with God’s help and faith in Ge to try to live on earth You know that I love you and because | dol shall and try wr in th Past. You are mistaken when you say that enaemenzen with manne him appear as one ataualy by you.” He ssid the form in which it was publishea in some of the papers made it so appear, and {t was froim this that he asked relie, Ido not think it Imposslble to trame a letier, which will cover the case, May bless you. I know He wiil protect ae ead In the haste of writing Mr. Moulton apparently failed to perceive what he had written, in the first instance, ou one aide of a half sheet or paper, and used the clean side of that half sheet for the purpose of tue letter, which he sent in the shape he had given. But it will be seen that he de- hberately and twice in succession reatirmed his main statement that there was nothing in the whole case on which I could not safely stand. He treated my resolution as borne of such morbid despair aa he had oiten reproached me for, and w1 me strongly to maintain bed faithin bim. Tilton yielded to his persuasion an graciously allowed himseif to be soothed by the publication of a card exonerating him from the authorship of the base lies to which the trip- artite covenant referred. So opce more, and this time against my calmer judgment, I patcned ‘up @ hollow peace with him. {ILTON'S BLACKMAILING. ‘The fall trath of this history requires that one more fact should be told, especially as Mr. Tilton has invited it. Money has been obtained irom me 10 she course of these affairs in considerable sume, but I did not at first Jook upou the suggestions that I should contribute to Mr. Tilton’s pecuniary ‘wants, as savoring of blackmail This did not occur to me until I had paid perhaps $2,000, Aiter- contributed, at one time, $5,000. after the money had been paid over in five $1,000 bills—to raise which 1 mortgaged the house I ilve in—I sett very much dissatisied with myself about it. Pinally 9 square demand and a threat were made to me by my confidential friend tnat if $5,000 more Were not paid Tilton’s charges would be laid before the puolic, This 1 saw at once was biack- mail in its baldest form, and I never paid a cent of it, but challenged and requested the fallest ex- osure. But after the summer of 1873 I became wardly sausfied that Tilton was, inherently and inevitably, a ruined man. I no longer trusted either his word or his honor. I came to feel that his-Kindness waa but a snare and his projessions of triendsbip treacherous. He did not mean well by me nor by bis own household; but I suf- Jered all the more on this account, As he bad grown up ander my influence and im my churoh I self from a certain degree of Fompensibutty for bil latuer for ®@ wrongdomg son, Bod, 1u times of great mental depression, tbis Gesperate eforts to restrain tim from overwhelm- ing himself, bis family, myself, the church and the whole community with the Mood of scandal which he had by time accumulated, were those counected Its publication in | Moulton strangely urged a card from me ex- | ‘This was Friday or Saturday. - The | with the charges of Mr. West and the subsequent proceedings of tne, Examining Committee of the church. The prosecution of Mr. Tilton I felt bound to prevent. Ib any iorm I would strive to prevent the belcuing forth of a scandal, but in that form it was pecaiiarly distasteful, it presented no square issues upon whicu my guilt or innocence could be tried. 1t was a roundabout issae, on which Mr. Tilton could have escaped possibly by showing that he believed the stories he toia about me, or that he had not “circulated” them, or by the mere fail- ‘ure on the other side to prove that he had done 80, Or by the decision that he was a monomaniac and not responsible. Any such haliway decision would leave me ia the attitude ef overthrow and yer no party to the case. More- over, I felt that Mr. Tilton thought I was ek my church against bim, and } was bound he shou) not think that; tor uit had not been for me he would have been dropped two years before for non-attendance and jor his distinct notice to me that he was out of the church. I had got tne Ex- amining Committee to postpone the usual action, because he was letting his wife still attend the church, and I thought that would gradually infu- ence him for good. Indeed he had deluded moe with hopes that he would give up bis bad women associates and reform his life, BEECHER READY TO RESIGN. I felt that we had no right to claim him asa member under the circumstances, for the sole pur- pose of his public trial. Mr. Mouiton insisted thas everything must be dune to prevent that trial as the Examining Committee was likely to be equally divided whether the facts sustained Mr. Tilton’s plea, whetuer he was out of the church or not. I ‘was sv determined to carry out my pledges to Mr. Moulton for bim and jo all in human power to save him even from bimself, that I was ready to Tesign if tuat would stop the scandal. | wrote letter Of resignation, not referring to charges jt me, but deciaring that I bad striven ior years to maintain the secresy concerning a scan- dal affecting a family in the church, and that as I jaiied I herewith resigned. ‘Tus letter was hever sent. A little calmer thought showed me bow futile it would be to stop the ‘rouble—a mere useless self-sacrifice ; but I showed it to Mr. Moulton; ossibly he copied it Ihave found the original of tin my house. it I could at the moment remem- ber apy Of the other jetters which | have written to Mr. Moulton, I would do so. ff he has pre- served ail my effusions of feeling, he must have a large collection. I wished him to bring them beiore the committee. I should have been glad to and fair publication, for though they would doubt. less make a sad exposure of my weakness, grief end despondency, they do not contain a ine con- feasing such guilt as has been charged upon me or @ word inconsistent with my innocence nor other spirit than that of @ generous remorse over @ great and more and more irreparable evil. But however intense and numerous may be these ex- pressions of grief they cannot possibly over- state the anxiety which | constan Telt for the iuture (the perils of which it is now ciear J did not exaggerate), nor the sorrow and remorse which | seit originally on account of the injury Which I supposed i had unwittingly done to @ oe jJoved family, and afterwards for the preater in- jury which 1 became satisfied [ had done by my unwise, blind and use) efforts to remedy that Anjury, only, a6 it proved, at the expense of my own name, the happiness of my own famiiy and the peace of my own church. BRECHER TO THE COMMITTEE—NOW OR NEVER, GxwTLEMxN OF Tax Commrtee—In the note requesting your appointment [ asked that you should make full in- Vestigauvn of all sources of iniorination. You are wit esses thas | have in no way influenced or intertered with your proceedings or duties. I have wished the in- vestigation to be so searching that nothing could un- settle its results, T have no\ung to gain by any policy of suypresson or compromise. ears I have borne and suffered enough, and will not fa ‘ar ta Iwill not go a step further. I will be free. walk under arod or yoke. if any man wili do me a vor, let hii tell ali ne knows now. Tt to lay down tie law of honor in use of other person's conilden- "i jones; but in se far as my own writings coucerned, there 1s not jetier Dor document which | am afrald to have exhibited, and Tauthorize any ona cali upon any living person to pro- Giice and print iorhwith whatever writing they have of any source whatsoever, Jt ig time for the sake of decency an@ of puviic morals that this matter should be brongii to an end. it is ao opea pool of sorrapiion, exhaling deadly ‘vapors. v six weeks the nation has risen up and ta: own upoe scandal. Not a groat war nor a revolutieg could more have filled the newspapers than this auestion of domesiic trouble, magMiied a thousand fold, and, like a fore spot in the lumin body, drawing to itself every morbid hawor in the blood. Whoever ts buried with if, tt is time that (tix abomina- tio by buried below ail touch or power of resurrection. HENRY WARD BELOUER, BEECHER’S CROSS-EXAMINATION. nena By Mr. Storrs—Q. You spoke of Mr. Tilton being areportor for the Obserwr, was it not for tue Tunes? A. Tho Observer never had a reporter in the sonse tu Which we now have or in the senge tn which we now use thet term, but he was a | worker—a maa of all work—in the editorial aad | i i | Publishing departmenta of tpe Observer; | know Rothing about bis connection with the Timea, By Mr. 5, I would like,to inquire how Mr, Moulton frst entered this and how he came to be your confidant? Mr. Moniton Ww: sohootmat a te and friend of Mr.» ‘Tilton’s, and Mr, Tilton, when hig ‘various ‘complicated troubles of camnh him, in connec! with Mr. Bowe! went to Mr. Moni! mand aaa the his adviser anc helper. That is came into the cage. BEECHER’S LETTER OF PESPONDENCY. Q Can you tell ashow yom came to write that letter of despendency dated Februsry 6, 1372, to Mr, Moulton! A. I would come back ‘rom a whole week's lecturing and would.be. periectly lagged out, and the first thing on getting home there would be some confounded development opening on me, In this state of mina, in which I had no longer @ny reliancy or rebound im me, 4 would work the whole week out, And that is the way it happbned time and time and tine again, On vne of these eocasiona I went to Mr, Moulton’s store, Mr, Moultom ‘haa always treated me with the greatest personal’ kindness. He never had refused by day or by night seo me or to listen to me. I never saw him out of mood toward me after the first few months, He treated me a8 if hey loved me. On this Occasion I went down to the store to see him and his face was cold toward me, I proposed to walk with him, and he walked with me in such a way that it seemed to me as though it was irksome to him to Dave me with him and as thougn he wanted to shake me off. Now anything like thas ell but kills me, {don’t wish to push myself apon egnybody: to feel that I: fave paosned myself upon any human being who does not want me is enou to kill me, and to be treated so by him at that time made it seem to me a though the end of the world had come. For be was the-only man on the globe that I could tale with on this subject. I was shut up to every ha. man being. 1 could not go to my wife; 1 could not go to my children; I could not go to my brothers and sisters; 1 could not go tomy church. He was tbe only one person: to ‘whom i could talk, and when I got tnat rebuff from him it seemed as though it would kill me and the letter was the pro- duct of that mood into which | was thrown. MOULTON'3 PISTOL INTERVIEW. By Mr. Sage—When was this interview witb | the pistol? A. The first interview. was at Moulton’s house December 30, and’ the next was at my own on the next day. Q. Did you consider the: interview at Mr. Moul- ton’s house a threatening interview—! have heard from some source that the door was locked? A. ‘That is stated in my statement. - Cs What was your impression from that act of locl the door? A. I did not think anything avout it, I only remem- bered it afterward, 19 family was away visit- | ing, and he was aione for several days; and when he came in he not only locked the door, | bat he took the Key out and putit in iis pocket. T must have noticed it or it would not have come tomy memory. He said something about not be- ing interrupted in.any way. The servant girl was 1 the house, | think, Q Then Mr. Tilton locked the door when you went into the room with bim? A. Not that [ re ea M Tilton at that ti ak barge id Mr. n at me make any oc! of adultery? A. No, sir, Q What was Mr. Mouiton's manner at the time when he demanded the retraction of Mrs, Til- ton’s—threatening? A. I should describe it as being exceedingly one of intense excitement. Q. Did it inners you witn any sense of personal Ganger? A. No, sir. Was it the result of that evening’s conversa- tion, and full and iree expression ‘rom you, that he came to be your confidant, and that he seemed to sympathize with you? A. No, air; that was the result probably of some other intercourse. Sy Mr. Clafiin.—Do you etd ged that you or the community would bave heard anything of these troubles of Mr. Tilton with his family had he been g@ successiul man? A. { am morally certain that the thing would have been deeper buried than tae bottom of the sea it Mr..Tilton nad gone right on | to @ prosperous career, and he had had the food which he had been a med to; but Mr. Tilton is a man that starves Want of flattery, and no power on God’s earth can ever make him happy When he is not receiving some incense. By Mr. Winslow—I understand by your state- ment that you first met Mr. Mouiton at Mr. Page's Studio; 1s thascorrect?, A. My first meeting with Mr. Mou!ton that ever led mo to know him, to think of him as distinct from a thousand other men, about it nor care a sna: | Misdoings such as visits a | feeling sometimes | smvunted almost to @ mania. Among the jast | | | { | | | | ( et euch hints as they may contain Te- resh my recoliection of facts and 4&e- | quences. I have no fear of their fall \ ' j | | | | | | Was that; [ had undoubtedly met him beiore, but not in a way that made any tmpression upon me; I date my knowledge of the man trom that time; he was having his portrait painted at the same time, nd we met there occasionally ; i remember that on one occasion we walked trom Page’s studio clear down to his door, or to Fulton ferry, and taiked of public matters all the way, and! recollect being impressed with the that he was an acute (eilow, and that he arya literary tastes, as he has, Q. Had you ever visited hts house in a social | Way, prior to his cai] at your house on this busi- | Bess? A. Never. Q. Then you had no intimate personal relations with bimt’ A. None. @ So that when ne came to you he came rather pete Tilton’s (riend than otuerwise? A. Alto- gether. Q. When did you come to believe that that rela- tion was becoming one of mutuai friendship? A. 1 cannot tell you, but it was some time alter wards; the transition was made during the vonsultations which they held as to bow Mr. Bowen snouid be managed 80 as tO do, a8 they said, justice to Mr. Tilton: once or twice le said w me, when | told him something, “There, that is the rignt thing;” I Tecoilect tuaton one occasion | made & confidential statement to him about some matier that they never could have found ont otherwise, and he said (I don’t recollect the words, 1 only nave a Tecollection of the impression that was made on my mind), that I never should regret putting con- fidence in him, It sprung trom some statement that Thad made. He gave token of his pleasure at my trust in bim as ii to encourage, as it were, full trust, and he sald that i never should regret having put confidence in him—which I shall regret to the day of my death. Q In the course oi your conversation when the so-called apology was Written did he Say anythil to you to the effect that there was nothing abou the case but woat an apology might cover? A, He made the oF pi on my mind not only that Mr. Tilton had been greatly injured, but that Mr. Tilton had been saturated with the conviction that I was using my whole power against him. When my disclosure of my real feeiings was made to him, he listened with a kind of incredulity, asi | was Le | apart. But when 1 sued tears and my voice bruke aad I walked up and down the room with unteigned distress, he seemed to be touched, and finally he said, “Now, if that is the way you feel, tf Mr. Tilton couid be made to see tt, this wuole thing could be settuied.”” Q Ifyou used the words, “He would have been: a better man in my circumstances than I have been,” what did you mean by them? A. I do not know, I’m sure; the conversation ran on hypo- thetically in respect to the betrayal of a trien an hour of emergency, in respect to undermining Mr, Tilton just at the time when Mr. Bowen and ali tue world were leaving him—in respect to ® want of fidelity; and there is one thing that you are to bear in mind—a thing that 1 have never before mentioned to avy ot yo and that had a very strong influence upon me. "t never can forget @ kindness done tome. When the war broke out my son went into a aiter being seven in @ camp at Washington, he series of pranks on some of the id got himself into great trouble, and Colonel Adama recommended him to resign, and | he came to me. Weil, it broke my beart. { bad | but one boy that was old enough to go that I could offer to my country, and I told Theodore, who was m the office with me, He mauve the case iis Brooklyn regiment, and, months own. Mr, Tilton has a great deal in! bis = Opper nature, if he could be cut im two and bis lower nature could be separated irom the upper, there is @ great deal in his upper na | ture that is capable of great sweetness and beauty, | Av any rate, he took up my cause, He suggested himself that the thing to do would be to get him transierred into the regular army. He said that he knew Sam Wilkeson, & corre- dent of the fribune, who was at that time in Washington, und had great influence, and that he would go right on that very night and secure this thing. He did, witnout @ moment's delay, start and go to Washington, and he secured, through Samuel Wilkeson, from Simon Cameron, then Secretary of War, the appointment of Henry | a8 @ second lieutenant in the Fourth Artillery service, I have felt ever since that in the doin, of that thing he the most royal service. I ve felt it exquisitely; and there has not been s time when I bave done anything that hurt Tilton that that thing has not come back to me; and when it seemed as though 1 had in an hour of his need and trouble steppea aside, and even helped to push him down, I felt it very acutely, Gbare are three letters written on February 7, 1871, I am not quite sure whether I understood you correctly in saying that you did not see Theo- Gore's letter to Moulton of that date? A. Ihave no remembrance of 1t; 1 oniy know that there was @n arrangement made among us to bring an influ- ence to bear upon Kilzabeth, conse. quence of her state of mind; I used fo say to him, “Mouton, | am @ man walking in the open air and mil of work, aod Theodore is loose and cae what he pleut and we can come down and taik to you and have counsel; but What human betng has Blizabeth Tilton to talk Wita her in uer trouble? She is shut up at home, Sick and uube/mended, and it 18 not generous for Us to let Ler go unthought of and uncared for.” I ‘Was always saying that there ought to be some- body who shouid think of her, @ In your letter of the game date to Mr. Moul- ton this occurs:—“Would to God, who ordera all hearts, ana py His Kind mediation, Theodore, Kilt zaveth wat Lt could be made friends again, Theodore will have the hardest task in such case.” Precisely what did ng meant Why Chat last sentence? A. It 1s alle muddie to me, as | don’t recall tae precwe working of my mind 1 have no vivid recollection of the maktog up O! the letter or of the precise moods under which I wrote; | cannot give the reason or the lewepeer | of that sentence; lonly know the geuerai dri whion we were on, q I call your attention to it because criticism is made in certam quarvers that it referred to Mr. Tuton’s marital trouble growing out of your oftence? A, Well. ont gees isn’t tha going hack | “yes” or no,’ zn to friendship? isn’t tt the restoration of the fam- ? that you three snowid be for is ncueatinie ask tore Ves; tant we snould all dis again? A. ‘And you say that Theodore will have the hardent task? A, There was a lamily that oy cir- cumstances haa been brought to the bitterest antegonisms at a time of the most profound adversity, wheo Mr. Tiltom had ad to struggle ‘for bis livelinood, for 18 Mame, jor his position and for his household. Everything put together, he was in ® situation ia which he nad got to exert himself in every way for restoration in every manner, and the point was that she should a cae 9 with him, as well as with bis friends, she had her sorrow ¢o bear as home he had his too, ‘That is what J think it unely, aap | have sug- gested those words; at don't say that itis, becouse I don’t remember; Elisabeth, hey know, was at times immensely bitter against eodore, and felt that she had been the aggrieved ne, aud] had been led to suppose that se had not been anything like so much aggrieved as I OW sup) sbe has been. Q. In the same letter of February 7 you say, “Of course 1 can never speak with her again withous his permission, and I don’t know that even them it would be best;"? why did you say that? A. Be- cause either at the time of that letter from Mr. Bowen or in its immediate victnity Mr. Tilton, as $072 the te ae now, sent word by Mr, jowen (though I cannot be sure of that) for- bidding me even to enter his house again. 4, Woen was that? A. It was in the vicinity of that whole business; butin what. way it came or what tbe precise date of it was I cannot tell; I only know that the message was conveyed to me from him; but by whom. or how, or when, | have forgotten ; it was @ distinct thing in my memory, and afterwards he, on one or. two occasions, took pains to revoke it after he had become reconcilied. Q. In the same letter occurred the words (whica Mr. Tilton in his statement makes appear to come trom another letter, but which, in fact, are trom the same letter), “Wuen [saw you lastI did not expect ever to see you again ‘or be alive many days.” What was in gd mind when you wrote fhem? A. Just what I have stated in my atate- ment already. . Q. Nothing else? A. No, I know f frequentiy said, “I wish | was dead,” and Theodore Tiiton came in and said he wished he was dead, and Mr. Moulton was irequently in a state im which he wished he was deed, aud Mrs. Moulton sai “I am living among friends every one of whom wishes he was dead,” or something like that; 1 do not know but it was smarter than that, but she pur is iu a way that was very ludicrous; every one of us used to be echoing that expression; we wore vexed and plagued together, and 1 used the familiar purase, “4 wish I was dead.” Q. The outside gossip is that you referred in that ime to contemplated suicide, Mr. Beecher—How do you proposé to cure the goosip? Mr, Winslow—I cannot say; but I want to know if anything Of that kind was in your mind, A. ‘was not ;:My general purpose ip toe matter ol thus whole thing was this—an Kept it as the motto of my lile—by patient con- tinvance in welldoing. to put to shame those who falsely accuse me, I meant to put dowa and preach down tha trouble, Of course, in my | dismal moods, I felt as though the earth had come | to an end. Now, in interpreting these special letters, everyooay is irresis‘ibly tempted to sap- pose that everything said was said narrowly in regard to their text, instead of considering the foregone state of my mind; whereas my utterances were Jargely to be interpreted by the past as weil as by the present or the future. I cannot inter- pret them precisely as ican a note of hand or ® check, A Man that is poetical, a man that wm oftentimes extravagant, ® man that is sabject to moods such as wake me what l am, cannot narrowly measure bis words. And yot, from the writing of over tour years, in every conceivable condition, in this large correspondence, proceed- ing from a mind speaking to liyperbolical moods, and in all manner of states, about everybody and everything, out of this mass tuey have got only these few equivocal things. “devices” did not refer to me, but to him—his whole styie of acting. Q Theodore said he was born for war and Moul- ton probably boru tor diplomacy? A. Yes. By Mr. Clearcland—Were the pian and method by which from time to time these things were Managed by your suggestion or by Mr. Moulton & A. L made suggestions from time to time gener Without any effect, and the essential course of af- fairs, 80 far as it has not been forced-upoa us irom outside influences, bas been of bis (Moulton’™ procnring. Q, He managed this whole matter with Mr. ‘Titoa? A. Yes; he represented nimself always as having all tae reins in bis hands, as having in nis hands such power that if worst should come to worst he could compel a settiement; be intimated to me time and again tnat he had such materials in his haod respecting Theodore that as he said once, “Ir 'heodure does not do asi say I'll grind | him to powaer. By Mr. WinsLow—Q, The “earning the future,” understand, was to procure the silence and the ourial of the scandal? A. No, it wasn’teither; tt reierred to plans by which Tilton was to get something to do, and do it and get some praise for 1t and be content. Q. The ‘devices,’ Aid that reler to all the places and arrangements and steps that had been takon? A. It reierred to this—If 1 had been left to manage this matter simply myself I should have said ‘that would have been the whole ‘ot it; bnt instead of that the matter went into Moulton’s hahds, and Moul- ton 18 @ man_ that loves intrigue in Such & way that, as Lady Montague said of some- boas “He would not carve a cabbage unless a8 could steal init from behind and do it by a de- vice," aud the smaliest things an the lainest he lMked to do in the sharpest way. le was consulting with parties here and there and elsewhere, and a great deal of whispering was taking place, and finally, it would turn out that something was not going be done, that he bad said he would do and he did not teil me why, andi had to guess. There was this wide circuit of various influences througe What ‘ou mean by this? A, Condone has a legal meaning and a general meaning, but the general mean‘ng of condoned 1s to pass over, to make peace, to overlook, and I nse the word as a literary mand Would use 1%, not as a lawyer. If [ used it ia ‘@ legal pnrase the wsrd would have been “offence,” Dot “fault.” Q. In asing the word “fanit,” do you refer to some particular act of Mra. Tiltouy A. I refer te the complaints he made in general in respect te her; you know periectly well wiat was the im- pression conveyed to me from the beginning to the end, and that was that I had stolen into his house and that [had taken advantage of the simpitcity of his wife to steal her aifection to myself and away from him. Q And do you mean to say you had that in your clo you used the word ‘fault?’ A. [sup- Q. You say tn the same letter that he had “en- forced apon you most earnestly and solemnly not to betray his wife’’—in what respect? A. Not to betray this whole difficulty mto which his house- hold have been cast. sider how it Meek appeal to every sensitive man and cultival nature in the worla if any greater evil can befal thau to have ® woman, & wile anda , Which he was moving all the time. | tt 2 He had candoned “his wite’s fault.’ ad | mother made the subject of even investigation as it respects her moral character. For no ater harm can befal a woman than to be talked sbout trom house to house witn discussions as to the grade vf offence, and the probable nature oi the offence and the cause of the offence and everyching about it, Next to staoving a woman dead is to talk about her virtue, and if the public sappose that in order to interpret those lecters [ must refer to a vulgar, physical, gross indignity, them they are living on a plane where I do not live. You must remember that Pwas aware that in addition to the trouble involving my name, Mr. Tilton had also, in fits of jealousy, accused his wife of criminal intercourse with severat gentlemen of whom I was not one, and hed as- serted in the presence of witnesses that ail her children, except the rst, were the children of those gedtiemen respectively. moods he wns very anxious to have such accusations unknown to the work the mere ramor of them would an meffaceable biight apon his ohildren. Nothing would have induced me to make tuls ex- Planation but that Mr, Tilton has deiiberat chosen to cast a blight of precisely the same kin upon those very children by his subsequent course, And ail that is left to me is the power to speak of of this abominable accusation with ecorn which such @ horrible falsehood deserves, You can refer to some points which have al- ready been considered for a moment:—*I have & eer feeling upon me, that. am spending my last Sunday and preaching my last sermon.” Do you refer to the same condition of health and mind that you have described? A. I refer to the tact simply that that was my state of mind; during this great. trouble, although it you were to collect all the lan; Ihave used at Various times, it might prodace an impression that I had wallowed in a sea of w) ee ack dia- and have satfered tress. I have had stormy da) more from this than probably all other causes in my life put together; yet, taking the four years Togsins; I have had more religions ce and more profound insight into the suifer- of nen since I have become acquainted with trouble al lespair; 1 have had an experience in the bigher regions of Christian lite that is worth all the sorrow and suffering tuat 1 have had to go through to get to it. Q. Is it dr mot true that in the course of these matters Mr. THton expressed a strong desire that the secrete of hie family should not be kuownt A, Always; at least, taat was lis mood except when he fell into a strange mania at times; there were times in Which it was very evident that he rfectly longed to be obliged to bring out, or to Rove somebody bring out, a scandalous story on Dis family, tn order that he might have the credis with the world as to be 80 magnanimous as still to stay at home and }ive with his wile, You mind is clear. I am notin haste. J write for the public a statement that will b ‘the light of tie jadgmenv day.” A. 1 have done it, You didn’t do {t, however, then. Had you any present purpose of doing it then? I I thought I would a good many times; that I had better sit down before my memory sailed me and make & Momorandam o1 the course, events and the reason of my condact; but { was so busy I Pig not do it, and every year 11 became jess pos- Q, Here comes a clause tn which you express & prefonnd conudence in Moniton’s fidelity. Does that correctly represent your own tecliugs? A, It does, although Mr. Moulton was not the man Abe 1 shoud gelect ss an ideal man 1 \noumat