enthusiasm of the place. He had his head full of railroads long before
the first spike was driven for an iron pathway to the village. We were
much together and ardently attached; went fishing together on long
summer days, he catching the fish, and I watching the process. When we
dedicated the first Brooklyn Tabernacle, he was present, and gave the
money for building a baptistry in the pulpit, and gave besides $100 for
his wife and each one of his children. When we parted from each other at
Oxford, England, he to go to Geneva, Switzerland, to die, and I to come
back to America, much of sweet acquaintanceship and complete confidence
ended for this world, only to be taken up under celestial auspices.

But time and space would fail to tell of the noble men and women that
stood around me in those early years of my ministry. They are all gone,
and their personality makes up a large part of my anticipation of the
world to come.




THE THIRD MILESTONE

1856-1862


My first sermons were to me the most tremendous endeavours of my life,
because I felt the awful responsibility of standing in a pulpit, knowing
that a great many people would be influenced by what I said concerning
God, or the soul, or the great future.

When I first began to preach, I was very cautious lest I should be