. T. DeWitt Talmage : his life and work : biographical edition . the crowd aroundhim and the walls of the sanctuary, and saw instead the old homestead and thepeaceful country scenes which he had almost forgotten. Many a family groupin a distant village was gladdened by a letter from one long silent, who hadbeen stirred up to write by a few impressive words uttered at the a dissipated life was cleansed by the sharp contrast that was presentedbetween the scenes of country purity and godliness and the moral mire and filth 3i 32 T. DE WITT TALMAGE—HIS LIFE AND WORK of the city dive
. T. DeWitt Talmage : his life and work : biographical edition . the crowd aroundhim and the walls of the sanctuary, and saw instead the old homestead and thepeaceful country scenes which he had almost forgotten. Many a family groupin a distant village was gladdened by a letter from one long silent, who hadbeen stirred up to write by a few impressive words uttered at the a dissipated life was cleansed by the sharp contrast that was presentedbetween the scenes of country purity and godliness and the moral mire and filth 3i 32 T. DE WITT TALMAGE—HIS LIFE AND WORK of the city dive. It is all true, the hearer would say, my boyhood homewas just like that, and he would hang his head in shame when, as if personallyaddressing him, the preacher asked: Young man, where were you last night ?Have you forgotten the obligations of that home where your mother and sistersand your aged father are? Amid all the triumphs of his manhood, through all the adulation that waslavished on him, in spite of the spectacle of eager throngs struggling to enter. THE FIRST REFORMED CHURCH, BOUNDBROOK, N. Which Dr. Talmage Made His Public Confession of Faith any building in which he was announced to preach, and though he was consciousof the millions who read his sermons week by week, the old home, with the fatherand mother at the head and the brothers and sisters who were his companions, BOYHOOD REMINISCENCES 33 was the picture that to the last was clearest in his mind, on which he dwelt withtender, reverent affection. Some time ago, he said in a thrilling discourse, in an express train, I shot past that old homestead. I looked out of the window,and tried to peer through the darkness. While I was doing so, one of my oldschoolmates, whom I had not seen for many years, tapped me on the shoulder,and said: DeWitt, I see you are looking out at the scenes of your boyhood. Oh, yes, I replied. I was looking out at the old place where my mother livedand died. That night, in the cars, t
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