the possibilities of
temporal welfare in a minister's life, provided he works hard and is
faithful to the tremendous trusts of his calling.

A man's industry is the whole of that man, just as his laziness is the
end of him. I always believed heartily, profoundly, in the equality of a
man's salvation with a man's self-respect in temporal affairs. I am sure
that whoever keeps the books in Heaven credits the account of a new
arrival with the exact amount of salvation he or she has achieved,
making a due allowance for the amounts earned and paid over to the
causes of charity, kindliness, and mercy.

I always believed in the business and the religious method of the
Salvation Army, because it was an effort to discipline salvation on a
working basis. When the Salvation Army first began its meetings in
Brooklyn its members were hooted and insulted in the streets to an
extent that rendered their meetings almost impossible. I was requested
to present a petition to Mayor Whitney asking protection for them in the
streets of the city. People residing near the Salvation headquarters
were in constant danger of annoyance from the mobs that gathered about
them. It was the fault of the Brooklyn ruffianism. I demanded that the
Salvation Army be permitted to hold meetings and march in processions
unmolested. No one was ever killed by a street hosannah, no one was ever
hurt by hearing a hallelujah. The more inspiring the music the more
virile the optimism we can show, the more good we can do each other in
the climb to Paradise. A minister's duty in his own community, and in
all other communities in which he may find himself, is to make the great
men of his time understand him and like him.

A minister who could adapt himself to the lights and shadows of human
character in men of prominence enjoyed many opportunities that were
enlightening. One met them, these men of many talents, at their best at
dinners and banquets. It was then they were in their splendour.

Those dinners at the Press Club in 1888, what treat they were! In the
days of John A. Cockerill, the handsome, dashing "Colonel," as he was
called, of Mayor Grant the suave, Chauncey M. Depew the wit, of Charles
Emory Smith the conservative journalist, of Henry George the Socialist,
Moses P. Handy the "Major," of Roswell P. Flower, of Judge Henry Hilton,
of General Felix Agnus--and of Hermann, the original, the great, the
magic wonder-maker of the times. They were the leading spiri