leader. And be it said to his
honor, he usually gave due credit, and in various ways helped the cause
of Plymouth Church by booming the reputation of its pastor.

Tilton was possessed of a deal of intellectual nervous force. His mind
was receptive, active, versatile. His all-round newspaper experience had
given him an education, and he could express himself acceptably on any
theme. He wrote children's stories, threw off poetry in idle hours,
penned essays, skimmed the surface of philosophy, and dived occasionally
into theology. But his theology and his philosophy were strictly the
goods put out by Beecher, distilled through the Tilton cosmos. He
occasionally made addresses at social gatherings, and evolved into an
orator whose reputation extended to Staten Island.

Beecher's big, boyish heart went out to this bright and intelligent
young man--they were much in each other's company. People said they
looked alike; although one was tall and slender and the other was
inclined to be stout. Beecher wore his hair long, and now Tilton wore
his long, too. Beecher affected a wide-brimmed slouch-hat; Tilton wore
one of similar style, with brim a trifle wider. Beecher wore a large,
blue cloak; Tilton wrapped himself 'round with a cloak one shade more
ultramarine than Beecher's.

Tilton's wife was very much like Tilton--both were intellectual,
nervous, artistic. They were so much alike that they give us a hint of
what a hell this world would be if all mankind were made in one mold.
But there was this difference between them: Mrs. Tilton was proud, while
Tilton was vain. They were only civil toward each other because they had
vowed they would be. They did not throw crockery, because to do so would
have been bad form.

Beecher was a great joker--hilarious, laughing, and both witty and
humorous. I was going to say he was wise, but that isn't the word.
Tilton lacked wit--he never bubbled except as a matter of duty. Both Mr.
and Mrs. Tilton greatly enjoyed the society of Beecher, for, besides
being a great intellectual force, his presence was an antiseptic 'gainst
jaundice and introspection. And Beecher loved them both, because they
loved him, and because he loved everybody. They supplied him a foil for
his wit, a receptacle for his overflow of spirit, a flint on which to
strike his steel. Mrs. Tilton admired Beecher a little more than her
husband did--she was a woman. Tilton was glad that his wife liked
Beecher--it brought Beecher t