ring those who were opposed to slavery,
while the South sought to strengthen the slave-holding element. The
result was a constant clashing, resulting in what came to be known as
the Border Ruffian War, in which John Brown first appeared as a national
figure. In the difficulty of provisioning such a new country, all sorts
of supplies were rushed in, including ammunition and Bibles. Mr. Beecher
told his congregation that just then a Sharps rifle was as good a
missionary to send as a Bible. Accordingly the church purchased and
boxed up several cases of rifles and Bibles and sent them out. These
rifles were afterwards called Beecher Bibles.

The events that followed, leading up to the War of the Rebellion, were
all part of Plymouth Church life. It seemed sometimes as if Mr. Beecher
was everywhere and nothing could be done without him. At the time when
Senator Brooks in the United States Senate made his unprovoked attack on
Charles Sumner, the whole country was wild with indignation. Meetings
were held on every hand to protest against the outrage. Every item of
news from Mr. Sumner's bedside was watched for with intense solicitude,
and for a time it seemed as if the fate of war or peace hung upon the
life of the Senator. Among the meetings was one called to take place in
front of City Hall, Brooklyn, and, as so often was the case, Mr. Beecher
was the speaker. The Square was packed, and as he came out on the steps
of the City Hall to speak a great cheer went up, a cheer not merely of
sympathy for Mr. Sumner, but of faith in and regard for the speaker. Mr.
Beecher, with his marvellous power, raised his voice so that it could be
heard all over the Square, and for an hour he held the audience
spellbound with his arraignment of the slave power of the South, and the
wrongs it was committing, while he affirmed his conviction that the
conflict would result in a storm of civil war. It was a wonderful
illustration of the inspiration that made him great.

A very different, yet not less characteristic, scene was that in the
lecture room of the church one Friday evening, when the news of the
death of John Brown had come. Looking back over the years it is easy to
see that his attempt with a mere handful of men to free the slaves of
the South was a most foolish thing. Yet at that time so keen was the
realisation of the wrongs that slavery had committed and so hearty the
respect for the nobility of his purpose and of his character, that fro